Page 1 of The Spanish Daughter (The Lost Daughters #5)

PROLOGUE

THE SANTIAGO FAMILY ESTATE, ARGENTINA, 1939

Valentina lay beneath the ceibo tree, gazing up at the green leaves as she nestled in closer to Felipe, the sunlight barely able to filter through the thick canopy above. Their horses were tethered nearby, happy to rest in the morning sun while their young riders stretched out on the grass at the farthest corner of the sprawling farm.

‘I wish we didn’t have to go back,’ Valentina murmured, turning on her side and staring at Felipe. She propped herself up on one elbow, her long dark hair sliding over her shoulder and brushing his face. ‘I wish we could stay here all day.’

He lifted his hand and skimmed his fingers across the bare skin of her arm, trailing from her shoulder all the way down to her wrist. Felipe didn’t say anything straightaway, instead choosing to lean towards her, catching her lips against his, kissing her so softly she felt she might melt into his arms as they wrapped around her.

‘If your father caught us?—’

Valentina reached down and stroked his hair away from his cocoa-brown eyes. ‘Then why don’t we just tell him? Wouldn’t it be better for him to know?’

Felipe’s eyes widened. ‘Tell him?’

She stole another kiss as one of the horses whinnied, starting to become restless after waiting so long to be ridden back. They’d been out for longer than they should have, which meant they’d probably have to gallop home now so she didn’t get into trouble. Sometimes Valentina dreamed about not returning in secrecy, of telling her family about Felipe and the love she felt for him. After all these years of loving him, she was ready.

‘Yes, I think we should tell him. I think you should ask for his permission,’ she whispered against his cheek.

‘And what if he says no?’ Felipe asked.

‘He won’t, I’m certain of it. All he wants is for me to be happy.’

So long as Felipe didn’t ask her mother’s permission, because she knew that she would rather lock Valentina in her bedroom for the rest of her life than accept that she was in love with a boy like Felipe. Her mother had much grander ambitions for her only daughter, was always talking of the matches she’d like to make for her, tempered only by the fact that her father insisted they wait until Valentina was older, so that she could have a say in whom she married. Deep down, she guessed that her father wanted to keep her at home for as long as possible, and she was only too happy to oblige.

‘We’d best get back,’ Felipe said. ‘Basilio won’t forgive me if he has to send out a search party to look for us. It’ll put an end to us before I even gather the courage to tell him.’

Valentina sighed and let Felipe pull her to her feet, their fingers interlinked, wishing they could have their morning all over again. But as she was smoothing her hands down her blouse to brush away the creases, not wanting anyone to guess that they’d been rolling around on the grass, she heard galloping hooves, and her heart began to race as a lone rider came into view.

No one other than her and Felipe galloped around the farm like that, which meant that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

‘Miss Valentina,’ the breathless rider called as he approached. ‘Come quickly!’

Valentina looked helplessly to Felipe, who quickly leapt up and readied the horses for their ride back.

Please don’t be Papa. Let it be anyone but my darling papa.