Free Wicked Whispers by Tina Donahue Page B

buttons on his doublet. “Who was the boy? Why were you with him instead of a woman? Unless he was a woman.” She tilted her head, studying him. “Tell me and I promise to keep your secret.”
    “There is none.” He pushed her hand away.
    She ignored the insult, her smile as shameless as ever. “Spend time with me today and I will make you forget everyone, man or—”
    “Enough.” He brushed past and went down several steps before he faced her. “Stay away from me.”
    Her smile finally faded into a ruthless glare. “Spurn me at your peril, Señor Don Enrique.”
    He laughed. “Are you actually threatening me?”
    “Advising. No man rejects Señorita Doña Luscinda.”
    He’d been wrong about her. She, not her mamá, was the one to take care with. “Perhaps the time has come to meet the first man immune to your charms. Stay away. I warn you.”
    He climbed the stairs two at a time, giving her no chance to retort. Luckily, guests who hadn’t drunk themselves senseless flowed down the staircase, greeting him and her, serving as a buffer and barrier. With so many about, he found it difficult to move more than a few feet before old friends and new acquaintances greeted him with a hearty good day, gaining his promise to visit their estates to hunt, fish, and discuss the political situation, including the Inquisition.
    “Mark my words,” an outspoken young man said. “If the tribunal can confiscate merchant treasures, they will surely come for the nobility next.”
    An older fellow scoffed, portly from too many years of fine food. “No one dares touch us.”
    Enrique said little, barely following the converse before finding a chance to excuse himself. Upon reaching Sancha’s floor, he had to wait at the other end of the hall for two señoras to pass. They smiled sweetly at him. He offered a small bow in return. The moment their footfalls faded, he rushed to the chamber.
    The room smelled of Sancha’s light fragrance.
    He selected her undergarments and a pale yellow gown that would complement her coloring beautifully. With the clothing in hand, he searched the area for a satchel or sack. Failing, he pulled the blanket from her bed, dropped her things in the center, including shoes, then tied the ends to carry the lot.
    Now all he had to do was dash through the corridors without running into anyone who might wonder what he was doing or ask if the blanket contained items for the boy he’d ridden with last night.
    Of all the rotten luck to have Luscinda see what no one should. He didn’t want to consider what she might say to the others. None of them would believe he preferred males as some men did. His friends knew his appetite for women, having seen him make moves on countless señoritas. However, they might speculate on who the boy was and perhaps wonder where Sancha had been while he’d also been gone.
    He’d yet to share one minute with her at his estate and already their time together seemed threatened.
    With the way clear, he recalled the tour Isabella had given him, the castle having seemed like a maze at the time. After a few false starts, he finally found the back way to the hidden door. Muted voices sounded in the next hall with this one still empty. Taking no chance on anyone seeing him, he pressed the seam quickly and slipped inside total darkness.
    Too late to return for a candle now and risk discovery.
    Feeling his way down the steps took far too long. At length, black brightened to murky brown, candlelight guiding him to the room where he’d left Sancha.
    “Forgive me for the delay.” He paused to catch a breath. “With everyone milling about wanting to speak, I had to—”
    He stopped and turned a complete circle. “Sancha?”
    She wasn’t in the shadows. He checked the other side of the table, thinking she might be on the chair, head down, fast asleep.
    Not there either, nor on the floor.
    “Sancha!”
    He searched everywhere, finding no hidden corridors other than the one he’d come