Free Mistress of the Stone by Maria Zannini

tell her more.
    A bottle of rum and two glasses sat in front of him. In the center of the table was a small ivory box no bigger than the palm of her hand. He nodded to a chair. “Sit down, querida .”
    Querida. This meant either a lecture or a reprimand.
    “What’s wrong, Grayhair ? You’ve been awfully quiet since you dispatched that old biddy. What exactly did you see in her innards?”
    “The future, of course.”
    She frowned. “Riddles again, old man?”
    He paid her no mind, but mumbled something in his native tongue. He seemed to mumble a lot lately.
    “What was that, Paqua?”
    “I said Inácio would not appreciate you wearing a harlot’s powder.” He cast a glance her way and continued fondling the chicken foot.
    Luísa’s face turned hot. “It was just a little powder. All the nobles wear it. Even the men.”
    “Only to hide their ugliness, niña . You have no need of such things.”
    “Aye, well, if it makes you feel any better I spilled most of it on the floorboards. I’ll probably be sneezing from now until the second coming.”
    Paqua didn’t even have the kindness to keep from smiling. But at least he wore a smile. She’d not seen him fair-humored in a long time. And yesterday’s reading made him even more cheerless.
    Unlike his other performances with all their pomp and glory, this reading had been somber, even grim. That night after his reading, Paqua kept himself to his cabin and he neither drank nor ate his dinner. Whatever he saw in the entrails of that dead chicken scared the devil out of him.
    “Will you give me some answers now? Is Papa on the island?”
    He nodded. “ Sí . He is there.”
    She heaved a sigh of relief then jumped from her seat. “I’ll be back. I want the men to unfurl every sail. We might make it in two days more if the winds are willing.”
    He grabbed her by the arm. “Sit down, Luísa. There’s more.”
    His gaze drifted to a window. A lone gull sailed past it then disappeared, winging its way to land, searching for a perch for the night. “Do you remember where we were when your father ordered us to sail without him?”
    “Tortuga. We had stopped to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.”
    “Aye. Your father wanted to give you a special day.”
    Luísa’s brow crinkled. “Saint-Sauveur landed that day. I remember the messenger he sent to Papa, asking for parlay. Papa invited him to the banquet.”
    “Humph,” Paqua grunted. “That devil danced with you. Did he say anything strange?”
    “No. He…”
    She didn’t want to tell him how Saint-Sauveur grazed his fingers down her bare arm. She had worn a gown that day, one Papa had bought for her in Spain. Saint-Sauveur breathed in her scent like a man needing air. His vulgar desire smoldered openly and it had frightened her.
    “He said I looked pretty.”
    “Saint-Sauveur belies his priestly robes. He came to the feast to offer your father a deal.”
    Luísa peered over at him. “What sort of deal?”
    “A devil’s bargain. He offered Inácio ten thousand gold doubloons for your hand in marriage.”
    Luísa shot up from her seat. “Ten thousand! In gold? That can’t be. Papa said no such thing.”
    “He didn’t want you to know.”
    His fingers feathered across the top of the ivory case. He pulled it toward him and traced the carved outline of a gibbous moon. “Your father didn’t order us into African waters because of some bounty-hunter, Luísa. Saint-Sauveur is far more dangerous than that. The brigand offered many incentives. A huge bride price, and a guarantee that he would protect this ship from any French-owned court should we be caught and put on trial. It was a tempting offer.”
    “Papa would never have given me to the likes of him.”
    “Of course he wouldn’t.” He said it as if it were ludicrous to even bring it up. “That’s why he sent you away. That’s why he stayed. His plan was to dupe Saint-Sauveur into thinking you and he were still on the island. He hired a young