Free The Sometime Bride by Blair Bancroft Page A

seldom invaded the mild climate of Lisbon, the high plateaus and mountains, even in summer, could be bitterly cold. Don Alejo was well cloaked, but the Blas who roamed the night had been too busy to notice how cold he was. Until now, when he suddenly recognized there were times he had damn near frozen to death.
    He was half way across the floor to Cat’s room when he recalled there would be no maid or valet bringing morning coffee. No third person. No margin of safety. Blas paused on the balls of his bare feet, thoughtfully tightening the sash on his black velvet banyan. To hell with it! His Cat had given him a very special gift and deserved to be thanked.
    A mistake. She was still asleep, her golden-red hair tumbled about the lace-trimmed white pillowcase, the colorful quilted bedcover pulled up to her chin. She lay on her side, her soft youthful profile turned slightly away from him, a slight smile on her lips as if her dreams were full of joy.
    Blas swallowed hard and bent to kiss her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Cat.” Her eyes flew open. The look that suddenly blazed from them was so full of love that he bounded back off the bed, clutching the tall bedpost in panic. “I–I came to say thank you. For the jacket,” Blas stammered, horribly embarrassed she might notice his intense physical reaction to the intimacy of the moment.
    He swallowed, tried again. “It’s just what I’ve needed.” She was staring at him, breathing hard, obviously not quite sure why the tension was so strong between them. “And, Cat, I have your father’s Christmas gift here.” He fished in the pocket of his robe, and produced a small key. “He said now you are married, you would have need it. That you would know what it was.”
    Catarina seized the key with relief. Later she would puzzle out what had just happened, but for now her father’s gift was a welcome distraction. She turned the key over as if she had never seen it before, then raised her eyes to Blas. “He has given me mother’s jewels,” she explained. “The case is kept in the secret room under the study.” She stared at the key in some awe. “I did not expect to have this for many years.”
    “ Then get dressed and let’s go on a treasure hunt,” said Blas briskly. “For jewels and breakfast as well.”
    She smiled at him so glowingly, so trustingly, that he cursed himself for nearly giving in to his baser instincts. They spent the rest of the day in peaceful pursuits, admiring Elspeth Audley’s surprisingly fine collection of jewels, catching up on the paperwork which kept Thomas Audley’s underground network running. They made what they hoped were safe plans for Mario Cardoso’s return, played a few desultory games of chess. Desultory because as nighttime approached, neither could keep their minds on the game.
    As the servants began to return and Blas was certain the two strong guards were once more standing guard in front of the house, he abruptly discontinued the chess game, informing Cat he had work to do. Swiftly, as if the devil were after him, he changed into the clothes of Blas the Bastard. Adding the brown leather jacket over his peasant attire, he stalked out through the small door set into the carriage gates.
    Catarina, who had aged a month for every one of the past twenty-four hours, was not insulted by his departure. She was actually grateful Blas had had sense enough to run. With this Christmas Day came knowledge. Awareness. What she’d felt when she waked to his kiss, when she saw him sitting there so large and beautiful and nearly naked, his face poised above hers, was an emotion far too overwhelming for a girl of fourteen. She was excited. And terrified.
    She was too young.
    But, whispered the voice of reason, that first time . . . was one ever old enough?

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Androche Junot, Marshal of France, owed his high office to his father. A wealthy Burgundian farmer, the elder Junot saw to his son’s education so well that at age