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There was a short silence. “I apologize. It is how my mother spoke of her. She was… envious.” Perlita laid a hand on Bella’s arm and said softly, “I’m sorry. I did not think.”

Bella forced herself to unclench her fists. She gave a curt little nod, accepting the apology. It was the first time Perlita had made any gesture toward her, and she wasn’t going to rebuff it.

Still, it outraged her that her father had discussed these things with his mistress in front of Perlita but never bothered to explain anything to her. No doubt because she was a plain little dab of a thing , too.

Perlita said, “All I know is that it galled Papa terribly that all he had was a daughter who would bring a fortune in marriage to some other man.”

Bella knew that. It was why Papa had planned to marry her to Felipe. Except Felipe had died, and the heir became Ramón. And that was a very different matter.

For the first time it occurred to her to wonder why Ramón was such an impossible match for her. Despite his crudeness and lack of polish, he was still the heir.

“Papa didn’t want me to marry Ramón,” she said. “When he knew Ramón would inherit, he sent a message to me to go to the convent in the mountains, to escape him. Now I’m wondering why.”

Perlita gave a cynical laugh. “Did you not know? They were on opposite sides, politically. Papa led his own band of guerilleros ; Ramón remained loyal to the Crown—”

“But the Crown was held by Napoleon’s brother!” Bella exclaimed, shocked. “He was a puppet!”

Perlita waved an indifferent hand. “Ramón does not care for politics. He did what he thought best for Valle Verde.”

And whatever Ramón did was obviously all right by Perlita, Bella thought. She was infatuated with the man. Why, she couldn’t imagine.

They strolled on, out past the pond that had once been filled with water lilies and was now choked with weeds, past the rosebushes that straggled, unpruned and neglected.

Bella tried not to think about how much of the beauty of her former home was being let go in favor of what was practical.

The orchards, fields, and kitchen garden were well tended and productive.

She might not like the choices Ramón had made, but it was becoming clear he did care a great deal for Valle Verde.

How much he cared for her sister was another matter.

“I didn’t come to Valle Verde for my pearls,” she told Perlita. “I came for you.”

Perlita stopped and swung around to face her. “You said that before, but still I do not believe you. Why would you come for me?”

Bella took a deep breath and made her confession for the second time. “Eight years ago, when I left Valle Verde to take refuge in the Convent of the Angels, it was on Papa’s orders.”

“So?”

“So I should have taken you and your mother with me. It was what he wanted. And I have always felt terrible that I disobeyed—”

“He told you to take my mother and me with you?” Perlita interrupted.

“Yes.”

“To a convent?”

“Yes, where you would be safe.”

“With nuns?”

“Of course, with nuns. My aunt was a nun there. She is now Mother Sup—”

Perlita burst out laughing. “Lord, I would have liked to see you try. Take Mama to a convent? She would rather have died.”

Bella blinked. It was the last reaction she’d expected.

“And me, I would have hated it, too.” Perlita spluttered with laughter. “The clothes for a start. And then there’s all that chanting and praying and kneeling.”

“And sewing,” Bella added balefully.

Perlita stopped laughing and eyed her shrewdly. “You hated it?”

“Every minute I was there,” Bella admitted. “And most of the praying I did was to be let out.” They both burst out laughing, and at the end they looked at each other with a new understanding.

“All this time, I’ve felt so guilty,” Bella confessed. “I was angry with Papa because he was more worried about you and your mother than me. I left you behind because I was so jealous of you. I have felt so guilty about it since.”

Perlita made a careless gesture. “We were children. I was jealous of you, too.”

“It is the only time I ever disobeyed my father.”

Perlita gave a little huff of laughter.“Nonsense.”

Bella gave her an indignant look. Perlita said, “You were often disobedient.”

“I was not!”

“What about the time you rode the black stallion bareback?”

“Oh.” She’d been severely beaten for that.

“And when your menses began and Papa told you that you had to ride sidesaddle and must learn to be a lady and the very next day you—”

“All right, I didn’t always obey Papa in every single little thing. But I still should have—”

Perlita shook her head. “What? Carried Mama and me—kicking and screaming—to a nunnery? And you a child of thirteen? The whole idea was ludicrous from the start. Forget about it, Isabella. Get on with your life.”

And with those matter-of-fact words, the burden of guilt and self-recrimination Bella had been carrying all these years lifted.

Yes, she did want to get on with her life. All those years of dreaming…

One of her dreams was to be part of a family again. She looked at her sister. Nineteen, ruined, and in Ramón’s clutches. And one day soon she’d be dumped for an heiress. It was no way for a beautiful young girl to live. Had Perlita even been away from Valle Verde?

She laid her hand on her sister’s arm and said, “Come to England with Luke and me. We’ll help you find a husband there.”

Perlita gave her an astonished look, and Bella hastily added, “Or if you prefer we could take you to Barcelona where your mother is, or Madrid.”

Perlita said nothing for a moment. She picked a sprig of rosemary and sniffed it, then crushed it in her elegant fingers. “Thank you. It is a generous offer. But I will stay here.”

“With Ramón?”

“With Ramón.”

Bella hesitated, then said, “A mistress, Perlita? Like your mother?”

“I love him,” Perlita said.

Bella recalled the raised fist. “He doesn’t hit you, does he?”

Perlita shook her head. “Never.” She could see Bella still had doubts and added with a little smile, “Ramón looks very fierce—and I think he would happily kill your husband in a fight—but most of the time he is all sound and fury. Truly, with me he is always gentle as a kitten, except in bed, when he is a lion.”

Bella tried not to blush at such frankness. “And when Ramón marries his heiress?”

“First he has to find a rich woman who will take him.” She gave a philosophical shrug. “Not so easy since the war. Heiresses are in short supply.”

“But with the title, he’ll find someone, and then where will you be? In the little pink house in the next valley?”

Perlita turned and looked out toward the hills. “I was born in that house. It’s not so bad.”

But she was nineteen years old, Bella thought. What nineteen-year-old dreamed of living in the same isolated cottage she was born in, in the same lonely position as her mother? Even her mother was married now and living in the city.

“I always thought your mother and you must be very lonely.”

Perlita said nothing.

“If you came with us—”

“No! I stay here.”

With Ramón, Bella saw. “He doesn’t deserve you,” she said quietly.

“He’s a good man, in his way,” Perlita almost whispered. “He is good to me.”

And that said it all, Bella thought. She loved him. And perhaps Ramón even loved Perlita. But he would marry a woman with money, just like Papa had. Making two women unhappy, just like Papa. And there was nothing she could do about it.

“Then if you are sure, we will leave in the morning. And if you ever change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

“If you do, the offer is always open.” Bella rose on her toes and for the first time in her life kissed her half sister on the cheek. “Sister.”

Perlita gave her an awkward, hurried hug and turned quickly away. Bella thought she saw the glitter of tears on her sister’s long lashes, but she couldn’t be sure because her own eyes were quite blurry, too.

“Do you think Ramón would mind if we rode out in Valle Verde? I would like to show my husband the place I grew up in.” She also wanted to bid it a proper good-bye.

When she’d fled, as a child, she hadn’t realized how final her leaving would be, hadn’t realized what a wrench it would be to leave this land she loved so much.

Perlita lifted an elegant shoulder. “Go where you will.” Her voice sounded husky.

“Would you like to ride out with us, Perlita?” If her sister wouldn’t leave Valle Verde, Bella wanted to make the most of every hour with her.

“I was never taught to ride.”

Bella blinked. “Not at all?”

“Papa said I had no need to learn, that I was the sort of woman who would always be driven in a fine carriage.”

A s Isabella and Luke rode up into the hills, she told him what Perlita had said. “It’s strange,” she concluded. “Papa trained me to manage the estate and to live as a guerrillera , off the land, and Perlita he taught to be a lady, to expect others to take care of her.”

“You are no less a lady for having unusual skills,” Luke told her. Her father had a lot to answer for.

She pulled a face. “But when it came to the crunch, Papa ordered me to a convent. But I don’t care,” she said as if continuing some argument in her head.

“I could never regret learning to ride. It’s one of the joys of life, and much better than being cooped up in a stuffy old carriage.

You have no idea how much I missed being able to do this when I was in the convent.

” And with a mischievous glance she set her horse galloping along the valley.

She took Luke all over the estate, pointing out how things had changed and commenting freely on Ramón’s management, which more and more she had to reluctantly approve.

The depth of her understanding of estate management surprised him. He knew no other woman who found such things interesting. As they paused to admire a vista from one of the hilltops, Luke told her so.

She laughed. “It would have been different if Mama had given Papa a son. I would then be as ignorant as a lady should be of such matters.”

“Your father must have been very proud of you.”

She considered that for a moment. “Papa was not much given to praise. The best thing he ever said of me was that I was wasted as a female.” There was such a look of desolation on her face as she stared across the range of hills, Luke couldn’t help himself.

“I don’t agree,” he said. “As a man, you’d be in no way remarkable. As a woman, believe me, you’re… unique.” And he leaned across and kissed her.

It was meant to be just a light kiss, a gesture of comfort, but she leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and returned the kiss with such feeling that they both forgot where they were and almost fell off when their horses moved apart.

They laughed, a little self-consciously, but her eyes clung to his, and her mouth was damp and beautiful and slightly swollen, and before he knew it Luke had dismounted and pulled her off her horse into his arms.

Laughing, still kissing him, she slid slowly down the length of his body, twining her limbs around him, an agonizing, delicious friction. Her body was soft and pliant, the taste of her intoxicating.

They slid to the ground, and the fragrance of crushed, new grass mingled with the scent and taste of her as he pressed her down beneath him, covering her with his body, devouring her with his mouth.

He pulled urgently at her clothing, eager to peel her out of it, to reveal her lithe body with the high, perfect little breasts, but she pushed his hands aside.

“You first,” she murmured, reaching for his neckcloth. She dragged it off, tossed it aside, and started on the ties on his shirt.

“No.” Luke pulled back abruptly.

She lay still, the grass against her back. “Why not?”

For answer he covered her mouth with his, trying to recapture the mindless passion of a few moments before. Her question lay between them. Luke ignored it. He reached for the fastenings of her bodice.

“No.” She caught his hands and stopped him. “Not until you take off your shirt.”