Passionate Pursuit Page 23

  She stabbed air rather than him.

  Two men ran up, burly and young like Rufio, each wearing livery, marking them as a noble’s servants. Don Larnaz.

  Beatriz screamed.

  Rufio slapped his hand over her mouth.

  She wrenched her head back and forth to loosen his hold, succeeding enough to part her lips and bite his finger.

  Howling, he jerked away.

  Beatriz kicked the next man, hitting him squarely between his legs. On an agonized gasp, he staggered away and fell to his knees.

  The third man punched her calf. White-hot pain pumped through her, snatching her breath. He pulled her from the carriage, one arm around her waist, the other clamped on her mouth.

  Tomás’s guards lay to the side. None moved or seemed to breathe.

  She fought, but the man was too strong. He dragged her to another conveyance.

  Rufio caught up, clutching his bloody sleeve. “I wish he would have let us kill you.”

  “Quiet.” The man holding her breathed hard. “Help me.”

  Dark blue velvet covered the window. Rufio opened the door.

  Don Larnaz sat on one side, her father on the other, healthy, powerful, and smug.

  He’d fooled her as he had her mother, the physician’s missive a lie. He’d had to trick her into visiting him after he’d gotten rid of Tomás, that letter surely a ruse.

  Beatriz screamed her outrage and fought as she never had.

  * * * *

  The merchant shook his head. “I have yet to acquire any black Arabians since we last spoke. Who told you I had more? Never mind. I have three white ones for you. Never have you seen such exquisite creatures.”

  Tomás thought the man daft not to recall writing only a short while ago. “No one told us anything. You sent me a missive.”

  He pulled the letter from his pouch.

  As the merchant read, he mouthed the words and finally shook his head. “Someone must be playing a trick on you. This is my seal, but I never wrote this.”

  Understanding and fear hit Tomás hard. “Don Larnaz sent the missive.”

  He ran from the merchant’s stable, Fernando following him.

  “I have brown Arabians too,” the man called out.

  Tomás raced to the guards, who stopped speaking.

  “Wait.” Fernando grabbed Tomás’s arm. “Where are we running off to?”

  He wasn’t certain. “Do you think Don Larnaz went to the castle to force Beatriz to go with him?”

  “How would he get that far with your men guarding the gate and walls? The only way inside would be if he mounted an attack. Would he be that foolish or skilled?”

  Never. Soft and unused to battle, the coward won by scheming and finding out about his enemies. As he’d said that night at the castle, telling Tomás he knew about him. Tomás’s friends were well aware how much he loved black Arabians. “He sent the missive to get me away in order to have a clear path to Beatriz if she left the castle. But nothing would make her do so.”

  “News of her father would. What if Don Larnaz knew of the man’s condition and sent her a missive claiming he was near death, hoping Beatriz would visit him so Don Larnaz could intercept her?”

  Tomás turned to the guard on his right. “Ride to Don Enrique’s castle. Tell my brother I need him and the guards he can spare at…” He paused and spoke to Fernando. “Where first? The road to the city or Don Larnaz’s estate?”

  “We should cover both at the same time.”

  Tomás directed the first guard. “Tell Don Enrique to take the road to the city past my castle.”

  “Sí, Patrón.” The man rode off.

  “Go to Don Gabriello and Don Alfonso’s homes,” Tomás said to the other guard. “Tell my brothers I need them and any men they can gather, including the alguacil. They should look for me near Don Larnaz’s castle.”

  The man nodded.

  “Wait. We don’t know where Don Larnaz’s estate is.”

  “I do.” The guard stepped closer. “My cousin works in the fields nearby.” He provided directions.

  Tomás committed them to memory. “Go.”

  “Where do we ride?” Fernando asked.

  “Between the city and the puto’s castle.” Tomás mounted his gelding.

  Fernando wheeled his horse around. “What if Larnaz has Beatriz in his castle?”

  “We storm the gate and I kill him.”

  * * * *

  The men forced Beatriz into the carriage next to Don Larnaz.

  She squirmed away.

  He gripped her wrist, pulling her back.

  She punched him wherever she could, yanked their hands up, and sank her teeth into his thumb.

  Yelping, he wrenched free.

  She drove her elbow into his gut and turned to the door.

  Her father slammed his walking cane on the seat.

  She reared back.

  “Sit down and stay down.” He glared. “If you refuse, I will beat you until you can no longer stand.”

  She cried, “How could you even think of doing such a thing?”

  “You mean securing a noble for you and a title for your children?”

  “For yourself. I want none of this. I love Tomás and intend to wed him.”

  “How touching and misguided. The man will never see you again, except at gatherings with the marquis, your husband.”

  “That marriage will never happen.”

  The carriage jerked forward.

  Beatriz tried to see past the velvet curtains on both sides but couldn’t.

  Her father leaned back in his seat. “You think you can stop this?”

  “I would die before I wed that puto.”

  Don Larnaz gasped and raised his hand.

  “Go on, strike me.” She gave him a mean smile. “Tomás will gladly run you through while I cheer him on.”

  Larnaz stilled, dark spots staining his cheeks. At last, he lowered his hand, looking as cowed as he had at the castle when Tomás had gone down the steps, ready to kill him.

  She turned her wrath on her father. “I would die before going through with this marriage.”

  “We shall see. Your mother clung to life far longer than I wanted her to.”

  Beatriz seethed. “How dare you.”

  “What? Speak the truth? Kill yourself if you must, but do so after the ceremony and bearing a male heir. I have no intention of losing access to what Don Larnaz’s title can do for me.”

  “What kind of a man are you? What kind of a father?”

  He regarded her with indifference. “I have no brats. Not even you.”

  He’d gone mad, evil corrupting his mind to the point of lunacy. Beatriz pushed into her seat to get away from him. “To think I felt guilty about your failing health as a daughter should with her papá.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. His eyes remained cold. “Quite a performance I put on. My physician likes to talk and told me about a noble patient of his who has difficulty breathing and feels pain here.” He pressed his fist against his chest. “And here.” He touched his left arm near the top. “How easy to pretend I had that rather than the fever. White powder on my face made me look ghastly. I suspected either Tomás or one of his servants would show up to pay back your dowry, as he told Don Larnaz. The manservant Tomás sent seemed close to swooning every time I pretended I was in pain. I knew after that my missive, written as the good doctor Cristóbal Yniguis, would bring you to my side just as though you were my daughter.”

  “What are you talking about? I am your daughter.”

  “No. Your father died shortly after you were born. Sorry fool killed himself. Seems you inherited his taste for putting on a show.”

  The ground beneath Beatriz seemed to have opened up, trying to suck her inside. “What?”

  “No need to look so shocked. It is what it is, or rather what society has made of us all. Your father never understood how lucky he was,
having wealth and power from birth simply for being born to noble parents when I had to earn everything.” His scowl grew even uglier. “Hardly fair, but I was smarter than those around me, especially your mother. She fell in love with me so easily. Her papá welcomed me into his home as he would a son. All I had to do was wait until the old fool died to do what I wanted.”

  Beatriz shook her head, refusing to hear anymore.

  Eyes glittering, faced flushed, he leaned forward. “She resisted what I wanted in the beginning. I tried to explain how my plan would benefit both of us. During her liaisons, she could learn the most intimate secrets of the nobles she was with. Men in the throes of passion always talk, offering a wealth of information simply begging for use.” He shook his head. “Sadly, there was no reasoning with the woman. What do you do with an animal that refuses to obey? You beat them until they submit to your will, as they should.” He smiled.

  Beatriz wanted to be sick. She hadn’t been able to finish the journal, not wanting to know how her mother had suffered. To have him boast about what he’d done… “Enough.”

  “I think not. You need to know everything to put your resistance in the past where it belongs. Your father was one of the first nobles to have her. They fell in love quite readily and he wanted to spirit her away to his castle, especially after she became pregnant with you. A grand romance.” Jaw tightened, he tapped his cane hard. “I warned him how foolish his plans were. His father had numerous secrets I made certain to learn about in order to exploit his weaknesses. Exposure would have destroyed the family name. For a set fee every month, I was willing to keep silent on the matter of his dear papá. I told your father if he changed his mind, I would hurt your mother, the love of his life. If he tried to harm me, I had everything written down, the document held by my lawyer who would seek justice after my death. In the end, he chose family, position, power, and wealth over her but never recovered from the loss. After his death, I found other nobles for your mother to entertain, ordering her to learn their secrets.

  “Of course, my main hope was to have her bear a son by one of them. Your birth was so disappointing. No noble wants a female. Only a male heir would work to my advantage. I wanted to kill your mother after she lost a duke’s child and the physician said she could never conceive again. She was as frustrating to me as you were, but I made her pay every day of her life for failing me.”

  Her mother had warned her. He is not what you think.

  Beatriz wished she could kill him.

  He rested his hands on his cane and studied her. “Now you know how determined I am to reach my goal, as Don Larnaz found out.”

  No longer pompous and assured, Don Larnaz pressed against the carriage, the same as a beaten dog eyeing its tormentor.

  “I expect you to still call me papá.” He leaned back. “But know this. No fatherly love lives in me for you. I would murder you in a moment if doing so served my purpose. If you defy me in the least, including killing yourself before at least one male heir arrives, I will see Tomás dead.”

  She gripped the seat to keep from lunging. “Leave Tomás out of this.”

  “As long as you obey, nothing untoward will happen to him. The man will meet another woman, fall in love, have no end of children, and forget you existed.”

  Tears clouded her eyes. “Harm him and I will see you dead.”

  “Empty words. You have no power against me so keep your tongue and use these moments to rest. Our ride to the sacerdote is long. The wedding night that follows will be the beginning of your new life, being a wife to Don Larnaz, bearing many children for him. I intend to make good matches for them when the time comes, with those unions giving me what should have been mine all along.”

  Beatriz wished he were dead. She struggled for a way to stop this and send him to the Devil.

  * * * *

  Tomás rode to the crest of the highest hill overlooking the valley, Fernando behind him. The city was to the east, Larnaz’s castle to the north. Tomás searched forested areas leading to the marquis’s land.

  “There.” Fernando pointed.

  Riders streamed from their brother’s estate, surely Enrique and his guards.

  “Look.” Tomás swung his arm to the right. Riders raced from where Gabriello and Alfonso lived. They’d gathered men as numerous as Enrique’s. “Check the road to the city while I watch the one leading to Larnaz’s land.”

  They searched for what seemed an eternity. Tomás wiped sweat from his eyes and strained to see more.

  Fernando shook his head. “No riders or carriages here.”

  In an opening in the trees, metal glinted in the sun. Blue flashed. A horse’s white mane appeared. “To the right.” Tomás pointed at the carriage, surely Larnaz’s. “Alert Enrique and his men where to go. I can tell Alfonso, Gabriello, and the others. We meet together down there.”

  He and Fernando clasped arms, then rode hard.

  * * * *

  Never again would Beatriz think of Serrano as her father. Relief rather than sadness filled her. Now, she could hate him without guilt and plot against him as he’d done with others.

  She wanted his cane. She’d have to be strong and fast, taking him by surprise, pummeling him until he lay still. With him felled, gaining Don Larnaz’s sword and dagger would be an easy matter. The man had proved he was naught but bluster, hardly the fiend Beatriz had heard about.

  Of course, there were still the servants to consider. And Rufio.

  Beating him with the cane, forcing him back until he fled into a field or a copse would be a pleasure. The other men might be easier or more difficult to manage. A sword and dagger in her hands should gain their cooperation. What man would want to die to protect Don Larnaz or the puto Serrano?

  The carriage jolted as Tomás’s had earlier.

  She grabbed the seat.

  A thunderous sound rolled toward them, dozens of hooves striking the ground. Don Larnaz’s horses squealed, hurting her ears.

  She pulled the velvet curtain back.

  Serrano slapped her hand.

  Beatriz kicked his shin three times. Before he could recover from his shock, she lunged toward him and rammed her fist into his jaw. His head snapped back.

  The carriage lurched again.

  Whimpering, Don Larnaz held on to the seat.

  Men shouted.

  Rufio begged for mercy.

  The carriage teetered to a stop.

  She pushed the door open.

  Serrano grabbed her skirt, ripping the silk, losing his hold. Swearing, he clutched her hair.

  Beatriz shouted and rammed her elbow into his chest.

  His hand dropped away, and she scrambled out of the coach.

  Fernando and countless other men were at the rear of the carriage.

  She screamed, “Tomás!”

  He rode from the front, dismounted, and ran to her.

  Serrano jumped from the carriage and grabbed her cloak.

  She punched his hands, kicked his shins, clawed his face, and screamed, “Kill him! He is not my father!”

  * * * *

  Men quieted. Animals settled too.

  Relieved Beatriz wasn’t harmed, Tomás drew his sword.

  She twisted away from Serrano.

  Tomás motioned to her. “In back of me.”

  She scooted behind him.

  Serrano tried to follow, but Tomás lifted his blade to the puto’s heart. Killing him would be easy. All he needed to do was finish the job Beatriz had started. Serrano’s mouth was bloodied, doublet and robe askew, face scratched. He was at least twenty years older than Tomás with much of his body gone soft.

  Tomás looked over at Beatriz. “Are you all right?”

  “I am now. Kill him. Please.”

  “For you, anything. May I ask who is he?”

  The man growled. “I am her father.”

  “Liar.” She grabbed Tomás’s arm. “He told me everything in the carriage. How he
wed my mother, but was never my papá. He beat mamá and drove her to the grave. He threatened to kill me if I refused to wed Don Larnaz. He said he would murder you if I resisted what he wanted. Ask the marquis.”

  Fernando glanced around. “Where is he?”

  A guard pointed. “Trying to escape into the forest.”

  Several men hauled Don Larnaz to Beatriz.

  The marquis cowered like a frightened child. He pointed at a man in the group. “What is the alguacil doing here?”

  “He means to arrest you for kidnapping my betrothed.” Tomás glared. “And for harming my guards.”

  “No, no, no.” Don Larnaz waved his hands in front of himself. “Señor Serrano forced me into this.”

  “Quiet, fool.” Serrano stepped toward him.

  Don Larnaz ran to the alguacil. “I beg of you, protect me from him. I never wanted any part of this.”

  Serrano bared his teeth. “Quiet.”

  Don Larnaz bounced on his feet. “He threatened me, Beatriz, and Don Tomás too.”

  “So.” Tomás stalked toward Serrano, blade raised. “You think you can harm me?”

  “No. Never.” Serrano tried out a smile. “You misunderstand.”

  “Do I?” Tomás sliced Serrano’s dark green doublet, not yet reaching skin. “Come now, tell me what I misunderstand.”

  “Beatriz is my daughter. I was only trying to frighten her so she would—”

  “Frighten her?” Tomás lifted his eyebrows. “Like this?’ He slashed the man’s sleeve.

  Serrano backed away.

  Enrique pushed him back toward Tomás.

  “The truth.” Tomás rested the tip of his blade on the man’s throat. “Or I will run you through where you stand. The last thing you see on this earth will be my smile.”

  “And mine,” Beatriz said.

  Tomás loved her more than he believed possible. He winked. She did too. He focused on Serrano. “Talk.”

  Serrano turned to the alguacil. “Stop him from harming me.”

  The man frowned. “Stop who?”

  “Him.” Serrano flung his hand at Tomás.

  The alguacil lifted his shoulders. “Why?”

  “Are you mad in addition to being deaf?” Serrano gritted his teeth. “He threatened me.”

  “I heard no threat.” He regarded the others. “Has anyone else?”