Page 14 of The Rogue’s Embrace

Time was of the essence. Getting Maria back to Spain was the highest priority for everyone.

More than anything, she wanted to go home and see her family. To let them know that she was alive and safe.

Two days after her rescue, Lisandro helped Maria into a small travel coach and then climbed aboard after her. Stephen and Gus were riding shotgun on the roof of the carriage. As a father-to-be, Lord Harry stayed behind in London with Toby. The boy had protested about being left out of the next exciting instalment of the rescue adventure, but Stephen was adamant he would not be exposed to any further danger.

Maria, wrapped in one of Gus's spare woolen coats, the shawl draped over her legs, settled into the corner of the coach. "How long will it take for us to reach Portsmouth?"

she asked.

"It's a good eighty miles, so a day or so at a fair clip. Stephen's estate is on the way and we can overnight there. Rest assured, everything that can be arranged to ensure your safety is being done. Anyone who wants to question Stephen or Gus's aim with a rifle is in for a nasty shock,"

he replied.

He pulled two pistols out of his coat and tucked one in the door pocket on either side of the carriage. Her gaze took in the rifle which was already nestled under the bench on which he sat.

From the way he and the others had been passing knives and small pistols around just before they left the offices of the RR Coaching Company, she wouldn't be surprised if Lisandro had at least another three or four weapons hidden on his person. There was comfort in knowing that any enemy who might seek to attack them would be met with unrestrained force.

As the coach pulled out of the yard at the rear of Gracechurch Street, Maria sat forward and gave a farewell wave to Toby and Harry. She would forever be in the debt of these people—strangers who had risked their lives to save her, people she now considered friends.

"I am still going to send Toby a gift once I get home. Not as payment, but as a token of my appreciation. Sir Stephen wants him to be a gentleman, so I think a Cuenca carpet would be the perfect thing for him," she said.

Lisandro raised an eyebrow. "That's a princely gift."

She arranged her skirts and gave Toby one last wave goodbye. "Well, considering that he was the one who first spotted me throwing the food out the window, then observed what it did to the dog, I think it only right."

Lisandro chuckled softly.

Maria was pleased that the boy and the dog would come out of this little adventure better off—Toby with a fine woolen rug; the bulldog, Snick, a new home.

"I must admit to thinking the name he gave the dog is a little strange. What exactly does the word ‘snick' mean?" she said.

"It's an old Dutch word. It means ‘to cut.' The bulldog is meant to be a combat dog, so I think Toby went with something along those lines. Though with hardly any teeth and one missing leg, I would suggest Snick's fighting days are well over,"

replied Lisandro.

It seemed the dog was settling quickly into the RR Coaching Company family and was already in grave danger of becoming chubby. Every time Maria saw the animal, someone was slipping it a tasty treat.

"Speaking of payments, are you going to tell me what Diego is paying you for this rescue mission? I don't expect you are doing it out of the goodness of your heart,"

she said. She had learned to trust Lisandro to a certain extent, but considering the history between their two families, Maria was sure he would be extracting some form of reward for his efforts. Why else would he risk his life by coming all the way to England to rescue her?

He scowled at her.

Did I just offend him? No. That is not possible.

Everyone knew the Duke of Tolosa, and his forebears never did anything unless it somehow served their own interests. They might not ever fulfil a contract, but her honorable family certainly did.

"Actually, I told Diego I didn't want any sort of financial reward for bringing you home; I simply wished to be granted permission for you and me to spend some time together. To possibly become friends. I feel that there was a connection between us that night on the terrace, and I would like, with your permission, to be able to further that relationship,"

he replied.

And Diego said yes?

She turned to gaze out the window, staring hard at the passing streets of London. Lisandro wishing to know her better was impossible. Notwithstanding the ongoing feud, she was also meant to be getting betrothed to the Count of Bera. What could possibly have prompted Diego to agree to such a thing?

Desperation, or perhaps something else? What am I not seeing?

That first night at the ball in Zarautz, Lisandro had affected her. Sitting this close to him stirred those powerful memories once more. Despite how she wished otherwise, her blood heated whenever he was near.

But he is the enemy of my family.

She kept repeating that mantra over and over in her mind, but it no longer stuck as fast as it had always done. Viewing the man, she had been raised to hate as an honorable human being rather than a rogue was difficult. It made her question too many things. It was all manner of uncomfortable.

"Setting aside your strange notions of you and I somehow becoming friends, I still don't understand why you offered to help. I would have thought allowing my family to suffer would be exactly what you would have wanted."

Maria gripped the fabric inside the pockets of her coat, twisting it in her fingers.

Lisandro remained silent. The air hung heavy and thick between them.

Please say something.

"I don't think the idea of us being friendly toward one another is strange at all, Maria. I think it quite sound. Let me ask you this: do you know how the feud between our families began?" he asked.

She huffed. Of course, she knew. The dirty, thieving eighth Duke of Tolosa had stolen from her family. Everyone in their part of Spain knew the story. "One hundred years ago, your family committed a great crime against mine. We have been sworn enemies ever since,"

she replied.

That was as plain as she could say it without making it too personal. Lisandro's ancestors had started it—not him. But the bloodline was still tainted.

To her surprise, Lisandro nodded. "Yes, my forebears did wrong. But from the sounds of it, I think you have been told a different version of the story to the one I know. So, let you and I make a deal, Maria. If we make it back to Spain in one piece, I will tell you the whole tale of the feud. And when you have heard it, you can ask your father if what I have said is true."

She didn't like the way he spoke about the row between the two families. He seemed to take it far too lightly.

If you had any idea as to how many times, we have toasted the destruction of the dukes of Tolosa, you wouldn't think it so amusing.

"Maria, I simply want to return you home to your family. Only a man made of stone could have refused Diego when he came to Castle Tolosa, asking for my help. My reward, if freely given, would be your friendship. As to whether your father wishes to allow you and I to spend time together, I don't think he is in a position to refuse. His honor and that of your brother are dependent on it."

She turned to gaze out the window watching the view as it changed from crowded and dirty streets to open fields. Maria found herself fighting with a new and unexpected reality. She was fast discovering that not only was Lisandro brave, but he was a man in possession of a good heart.

Seeing her enemy as even more than a fair-weather friend went against all that she had been taught to believe. But if, as he suggested, there was another side to the feud, she owed it to herself to find out what it was.

It wouldn't be the first time that a story had gotten legs and become a twisted version of itself as it grew into legend.

Perhaps she and Lisandro could find a way to become friends.

She glanced back at him once more. The interest he had stirred within her at their first meeting, flared up again and she didn't attempt to resist. She didn't want to fight it.

Perhaps they could become more.