Chapter Five

Arm in arm with Captain Rodgers, Destiny stepped over the threshold into the Browns’ house and the world of Key West society. Waiting in line to be received, she glimpsed a glittering assembly of men and ladies.

The huge foyer stretched before her, filled with people greeting their host and hostess along with their daughter, Charlotte Brown, the guest of honor. Alejandro and Angelina stood behind them, waiting, too.

Angelina leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “Relax, Destiny. You’ll do fine. Just be yourself.”

Nathan turned to Destiny and winked, squeezing her hand. With so much encouragement, she relaxed a fraction and allowed her gaze to wander over the house. She’d passed this house thousands of times but had never been invited inside.

She adjusted the gold-filigreed shawl Angelina had lent her and realized the Browns’ house wasn’t that different from her own home. The rooms were larger and the ceilings higher. She glimpsed the ballroom at the end of the foyer and noted its proportions. Gramps’ house had a ballroom, too, though smaller than this one and unused since she could remember.

When she was a child, she’d often played there, sliding over the polished hardwood floors in her stocking feet, pretending she was ice-skating. Growing up in Key West, she’d never known snow or ice, but she’d seen pictures in books.

The Browns’ house, though built along the same lines as her grandfather’s, was different in some respects. More elaborate, perhaps. The Browns’ house, unlike her spartan home, was filled to the bursting, like a fat man about to split the seams of his trousers.

Instead of nautical etchings on the wall, large oil paintings hung in gilt frames. The chandeliers overhead, unlike the functional ones at home, sported elaborate designs and a wealth of crystal prisms. Vases, flowers, lace doilies, and bric-a-brac covered every available surface. Huge potted palms and other hothouse plants crowded, cheek by jowl, among the heavy, lavishly carved furniture. Where clear glass graced her windows, here rich-hued stained glass abounded. Underfoot, thick Aubusson carpets covered the hardwood floors, compared to the threadbare Oriental rugs at home.

If she had to put a name to it, she would say the Browns’ home had the unmistakable stamp of “a woman’s touch.” With that thought, came a stab of pure, undiluted grief, grief for the mother she’d lost so young.

Nathan glanced at her, a question in his blue-gray eyes. She shook her head and tried to relax again. The receiving line inched forward, moving at a tortoise’s pace.

Having satisfied her curiosity about Charlotte’s home, she turned her attention to the guests. When she gazed into their faces, she found that she recognized most of them. How strange, she’d seen these same people every day of her life, even greeted them on the streets. But she’d never seen them in evening clothes. The women wore low-cut evening gowns, sporting feathers in their hair and jewels at their throats. The men were garbed in their best frock coats or dress uniforms; their hair slicked with oil and their beards carefully trimmed, smelling strongly of bay rum.

They finally reached the Browns. Nathan bowed and murmured greetings to Colonel Brown before introducing her. He shook Destiny’s hand and offered a perfunctory greeting, not commenting on the fact he’d known her all his life. They moved to his wife and repeated the ritual.

When Destiny took her hand, she said, “I’m so happy to see you, Mistress Brown. Thank you for having me to your home.”

She returned Destiny’s handshake, looking her up and down. “Quite so.”

Feeling uncommonly miffed by Mistress Brown’s reception, she watched as Charlotte greeted Nathan with effusive enthusiasm. Too much enthusiasm, to her way of thinking. As she watched them, with their hands clasped and Charlotte smothering him in charm, her heart contracted painfully. Jealousy, like a malevolent poison, poured through her veins, making her pulse pound.

Charlotte could have any man in this house or Key West. Why would she want Nathan? Glancing at her escort, she saw him in a new light. With his hair carefully arranged, his handsome features were compelling. Fitted out in his best dress uniform, she had to admit he possessed a male physique that would make any maiden swoon. She realized how lucky she was and squeezed his arm.

He responded by dropping Charlotte’s hands. He bowed low and began a formal introduction of Destiny to Charlotte.

Charlotte cut him short, reaching for Destiny and squealing, “No introductions necessary, Captain Rodgers. Destiny and I have been friends since childhood.” She smothered Destiny in a hug. “I’m so happy you’ve come to help me celebrate my eighteenth birthday.”

Destiny wanted to return the hug, but her body stiffened and her arms hung at her sides. She remembered Charlotte’s other birthday parties from which she’d been excluded. She particularly recalled the one when Charlotte turned twelve. Colonel Brown had brought a circus for the celebration, and it had been chronicled in the Key West newspaper. Destiny hadn’t been invited.

Feeling the old wounds reopen, she pulled free from Charlotte’s embrace. Hurting inside, she couldn’t bring herself to dissemble. Instead, she mimicked Charlotte’s mother. “Quite so.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an “O.” Then her eyes narrowed, and she glared at Destiny, indignation burning in her light blue eyes. Destiny turned to her escort and asked, “Nathan, shall we go in to the ball?”

Nathan looked at Charlotte and then at Destiny. He leaned toward Charlotte. “Thank you for—”

“Please, Nathan, I’m feeling faint. Waiting in this stuffy foyer for so long and…” She let her voice trail off.

Deep inside, she was amazed at herself and couldn’t quite believe how she was acting. She’d waited all her life for this opportunity, and now, she was purposely irritating Charlotte. There wouldn’t be any more society invitations from the Browns. But at this particular moment, she didn’t care.

The old rebuffs, along with her reception tonight, hurt too much.

Nathan, considerate of her welfare, made their excuses and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Let’s step outside on the terrace where you can get some fresh air.”

Obediently, she followed him through the crush in the ballroom. Her thoughts and feelings were in turmoil, and she barely noticed the dancers or the music or the throngs of people. They appeared as if far off, as if she were seeing them from the wrong end of her grandfather’s spyglass.

They’d almost cleared the ballroom when she glimpsed him.

James Whitman stood before the French doors opening to the terrace, bent low, kissing Frances Brown’s hand. She stopped and gazed at them, mesmerized.

James and Frances exchanged glances and murmured words. Then he swept Frances into his arms, and they entered the ring of dancers, whirling away to the strains of a Viennese waltz.

Frances Brown, Charlotte’s elder sister, at twenty-three was practically a spinster. What did James see in her? Unlike Charlotte, renowned as the prettiest girl in town, Frances possessed a very long nose and thin lips. Her hair was a mousy brown color. And garbed in a beautiful blue satin gown, even the dressmaker’s art couldn’t disguise her bony figure.

Destiny turned her attention to James. Just watching him dance, the breath left her body. He was so handsome with his golden hair falling over his broad forehead. His gray eyes sparkled, and his full lips beckoned. How many times had she dreamed of his lips touching hers?

Lost in her reverie, she was startled when Nathan asked, “Destiny, are you all right? Come, let’s go to the terrace.”

****

Angelina stamped her high-heeled foot. Thus far, she’d met with only politeness and courtesy in Key West. And the last place she’d expected discourtesy was at her first fancy-dress ball. Some dignitaries had been allowed to cut in front of them. The nerve of these people who thought they were too good to wait in line. Who were they anyway?

Someone whispered the party consisted of important politicians from Washington, D.C., the capitol of the United States. Angelina didn’t care who they were, especially if they weren’t from Key West. She needed local people to back her venture. But she hadn’t expected to be stuck in the receiving line all night.

Destiny and Nathan had already advanced to the head of the line and entered the ballroom when she and Alejandro finally reached Colonel Brown.

Luckily, Alejandro had a steadying effect on her. He was cordial and jovial, despite the waiting. She tried to take her cue from him and pasted a huge smile on her face, suffering through the wait.

And the wait was well worth it. Though she was eager to find Destiny, Alejandro held her back, introducing her to people. She met the mayor of Key West, along with the Browns, who controlled much of the area’s shipping. Alejandro introduced her to the Whitmans, another family involved in shipping. She recognized the name, knowing Destiny was in love with one of their sons, James. She also met the most successful merchant in town, a Mister Greene, as well as the harbormaster. More merchants and a banker or two followed.

Exhausted with introductions, she turned to Alejandro and asked, “Might I have some refreshment? Fruit punch, if they have it.”

He held out his arms. “Let’s dance first. Then refreshments.”

She started to argue but remembered all the help he’d given her tonight. She inclined her head and agreed, “One waltz and then fruit punch.” She licked her lips. “All those introductions have made me thirsty.”

“One waltz,” he said.

He took her in his arms, and they twirled across the floor. Despite her initial reluctance, she enjoyed their dance. His strong arms held her tight, and she could feel his muscles bunch and slide beneath his frock coat.

Even though his touch gave her the shivers, turning her hot and then cold, as if she’d been taken with the ague, she didn’t want to let him go. Her pulse pounded and her heart raced, one beat ahead of the music. And his hand on her back felt as if it were burning a hole through the fabric of her gown.

Closing her eyes, she fought the disturbing tremors coursing through her. She tried to concentrate on the music, but her other senses leapt to life. She smelled his particular scent, sandalwood and musk. The scent teased her, at once familiar and exotic, hinting of sultry nights and tangled bed sheets. She savored the primitive strength of his male body beneath the genteel covering of his frockcoat. His steps were strong and sure. He was a marvelous dancer, guiding her effortlessly around the floor.

She gazed up at his face. The left side of his face was turned to her. This side was untouched, as perfect as the day he’d been born. He had been a very handsome man. And he was still a very handsome man.

His features were classic, reminding her of profiles found on old coins or etchings of Greek gods. He possessed a wide forehead, high cheekbones, hawk-like nose, full lips, and a square jaw.

“Did anyone look promising for backing your venture?” he asked.

She leaned back in his arms and stared at him. How had he known? She’d told no one—not even Destiny. It was too embarrassing.

“I didn’t say I was looking for someone to back my factory. Why do you think that?”

“Because you agreed to come with me to meet local people. You must need financial help if you’re serious about making contacts.”

“Not necessarily, it’s important to know the local people for a variety of reasons, not just financial.”

“Then you have your own financing?”

She lowered her head and tucked in her chin. She didn’t want to lie to his face, but on the other hand, she didn’t want him to know everything about her business. But he’d already guessed her problem on his own.

She sighed. “Yes, I’m going to need some help with financing.”

“It’s a large undertaking, a cigar factory. I would have been surprised if you’d had all the funds you needed.” He lifted his chin and glanced around. “Well, have you met anyone promising?”

“Too soon to tell. But thank you for introducing me. Is there anyone in particular I should meet? You’re so perceptive, Alejandro, I depend on your good judgment.” She fluttered her eyelashes and made certain the tone of her voice dripped honey.

“Is that a compliment or are you playing with me?”

“It was meant as a compliment.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you. And if my flawless perception serves me correctly, I think you should meet Señor Warner. He’s a banker and known for liking risky investments.”

“There’s nothing risky about my cigar factory,” she retorted. “I learned the business from my father, and he was very successful.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she could have bitten her tongue in two. She’d just given him another clue to her identity.

Why didn’t she just tell him her life story?

His instincts were sharp and attuned to her. What he couldn’t figure out on his own, he managed to unearth by irritating her and making her defend herself. He was good at getting to the bottom of things, she had to admit.

But he didn’t capitalize on her lapse of judgment. Instead, he murmured, “Concentrate on Warner, anyway. He’s not married.”

“What do you mean by that,” she bristled. He’d done it again, put her on the defensive.

He looked down at her and sighed. “Angelina, let’s be realistic. Most men don’t believe women should engage in commerce. If they’re married, they can’t help but think about their own wives running a business. The mere thought, for most of them, is enough to frighten them to death. You’re more likely to convince an unmarried man to help you.”

“With a little added incentive, Alejandro? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

His eyes narrowed. As she tried to pull away, he crushed her body to his. His breath was harsh against her ear. “I wouldn’t be helping you if I thought that, Angelina. You’re well-bred and intelligent…as well as beautiful. There’s no need for you to play the harlot.” He lifted his eyebrows and stared at her. “That is, unless you want to.”

She recoiled from his harsh words and pushed against his chest. “Let go of me! How dare you say such a thing to me?”

“¡Silencio!” he hissed in her ear. “You were the one who brought it up, not I. And you need to keep your voice down. Don’t make a scene. You need to court these people. Remember?”

He was right, so she took several deep breaths and let him put his arms around her again. She plastered a wide smile on her mouth.

“Much better,” he said.

“Bastardo,” she said under her breath.

He laughed, throwing his head back. “Keep your tongue sheathed if you want to charm the locals.”

She glared at him and drove her high-heel into his instep.

He gasped but held his silence, his face turning red. The waltz ended and he took her arm, leading her to one side.

“Where’s this Señor Warner? I want to meet him immediately,” she demanded.

“What about your fruit punch?” Lifting his head, his gaze swept the room. “I don’t see him yet. He usually arrives late at these dress functions. Arrives late and leaves early.”

“Well, I hope we don’t miss him.”

“I’ll keep a careful watch while I get your fruit punch.”

She grabbed his arm and plucked at the wool of his frock coat. Appalled, she stopped herself. Pleating fabric was a nervous habit she needed to break. She dropped her hand. “No, I’ve changed my mind. Not fruit punch. Do they have anything stronger?”

He nodded. “I’ll see what I can find. Try to keep out of trouble.”

“Shouldn’t be difficult with you gone,” she muttered.

“¿Qué?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’ll wait here.”

He bowed over her hand.

She called after him, “If you see Destiny, tell her where I am.”

He turned back and smiled, mockingly. “Your word is my command.” Then he headed for the end of the ballroom, where white-coated servants presided over tables laden with food and drink. He was limping, she noticed.

She covered her mouth to stifle the giggle fizzing at the back of her throat.

Within a few feet, though, he’d walked off her high-heeled attack and resumed his customary jaunty walk. His evening clothes fit him like a second skin, unlike his loose-fitting white linen suits. Each line of his muscular body was drawn in infinite detail, straining against the expensive super-fine wool. She wondered if his body had been disfigured when his face was scarred. She hoped not. He had such a beautiful male body.

The vision of a nude Alejandro took form in her mind. Even though she’d led a sheltered life, growing up with seven brothers had given her a fair idea of the male physique. Her brothers had all been good-looking men, but they couldn’t compare with Alejandro.

Envisioning his naked body flooded her with heat. The ballroom was suddenly hot and close. She opened her reticule and retrieved her fan.

Thinking about him and what the proximity of his body did to her, she realized her plan to keep him as a friend and confidante was bound to fail. She looked around the ballroom and recognized some of the people he’d introduced her to earlier. But she wished Warner would show up. Because the sooner she met Warner, the sooner she could leave.

And the sooner she left the ball and Alejandro Estava behind, the better.

****

Destiny allowed Nathan to guide her to a stone bench on the terrace.

“Please, sit down. Do you have a fan with you? Can I get you anything?” He hesitated. “Is the air helping, are you feeling better?”

She lifted her head and gazed at his kind face. Solicitude was evident in every line of his body, and he hovered over her like a mother hen.

And he made her feel like a complete fraud.

Nathan was her escort for the evening. A handsome man, a successful man, accustomed to being a leader. Liked and respected by the community of Key West, he was every maiden’s dream. And he seemed to care about her. But all she could think of was James Whitman, dancing and laughing with Frances Brown.

She lowered her head. “Thank you. I don’t need anything. I’m feeling better now. The night air has restored me.”

“Wonderful. Marvelous.” He smiled. “May I join you?”

“Yes, please.” She scooted over on the bench.

But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he lowered himself beside her, so close they almost touched. Reaching up, he ran his index finger between his neck and the collar of his uniform. Then he cleared his throat. “May I hold your hand, Destiny?”

Should she allow him the liberty? It seemed little enough to ask. And she was feeling guilty. Unable to meet his gaze, she lifted her right hand, the one closest to him and offered it.

He accepted her offering, engulfing her hand in his large paw without a word. They sat together for several minutes in total silence with her hand cradled in his.

Strange thoughts coursed through her. What if James Whitman came on the terrace and saw Nathan holding her hand? Would he think she was betrothed? Would it make him jealous? Would he care?

Closing her eyes, she willed the disturbing questions away. Slowly, she relaxed. Nathan’s calloused hand was warm but dry, comforting in its masculine contours. And his skin felt good next to hers. She wondered again what it would be like if he kissed her on the lips. Would his mouth, pressed against hers, be as warm and comforting as his hand was? Thinking about kissing him, her blood heated. Her heart thumped, like a rabbit caught in a snare.

Alarmed at her reaction, she pulled her hand free. “It’s so hot here.” Dropping her shawl, she fanned herself with one hand while staring into the recesses of her reticule. “I can’t find my fan.”

Nathan turned to her, new solicitude stamped on his features, but then he glimpsed her bared bosom. His eyes widened and he gulped. His gaze snagged hers for one brief instant and then returned to her chest.

Realizing she’d shed the concealing shawl, she hastened to retrieve it. But his hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Don’t,” he almost groaned, going down on one knee.

Astonished at his reaction, she sat very still, wondering what he would do next. She didn’t have long to wait. He took her hand again and raised it to his mouth, feathering light kisses over her sensitive skin.

Her eyes drifted shut as she gave herself over to the pleasure of his lips on her flesh. Soft and moist, his mouth caressed her hand, sending tiny shivers through her body. Her blood turned molten and spread like sweet honey through her veins.

Reaching up, he cupped her chin in one hand. His mouth found hers, and his lips were warm and firm. If kissing her hand had fired her blood, this was so much more, beyond her wildest imaginings. She felt both slack and warm, as if the bones had melted in her body, leaving her without support. At the same time, every nerve in her body leapt to life, straining toward him, demanding more…

More of what, she didn’t know.

She gasped and he took her cue, deepening the kiss. His mouth pressed down, claiming her and adjusting to the contours of her lips. Warm and supple, his mouth moved over hers, exploring and molding, making her feel as if she’d been waiting all her life for his kisses.

Crushed to him, she responded, raking her fingernails down the soft wool of his uniform. She was hot all over, as if someone had kindled a fire deep inside of her. And at the same time, she shivered in anticipation, savoring every nuance of his touch and the feel of his mouth on hers. She held on tight to his lapels, not wanting to spin out of control.

He shifted, trailing kisses across her cheeks and chin and down her throat. His beard grated against her face, abrading her tender skin. She started at the unexpected sensation, recovering her senses.

Her earlier question had been answered. Kissing on the mouth was both wonderful and terrifying at the same time. The sensations were marvelous, making her attuned, for the first time in her life, with her body. But the feeling of losing control was too new, too frightening in its intensity.

She broke their kiss and gently pushed against his chest. “Nathan, your beard scratches me. Please.”

Releasing her, he vowed, “I’ll shave my beard. Anything to make you happy.” Grasping both her hands in his, he stammered, “I know…that is…I mean you haven’t known me for very long. And I realize this is sudden and probably unexpected.” He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “But you’re so very beautiful, Destiny. The most beautiful woman in the world. I wouldn’t have taken the liberty of kissing you if…if I hadn’t…”

Obviously at a loss for words, he raised her hands to his mouth and showered kisses over them. Then he lifted his head and clasped her hands tighter, placing them on his chest. “Feel my heart. It beats for you, only you.” He shook his head. “I thought I was married to the sea, but when I first saw you, I knew.” He hesitated and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, Destiny. Will you be my wife?”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him in stunned silence. But she remembered her grandfather’s admonishment and closed her mouth. His heart beneath her hands pounded like the surf hitting a rocky shore. Had she heard him right? He thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. And he loved her. He’d asked her to marry him.

Destiny Favor, the girl whom everyone shunned, the girl with carrot-colored hair and a scandal surrounding her heritage, was loved? A handsome and successful man thought she was beautiful and wanted to marry her. It was almost too much to contemplate, too bizarre to believe.

And she’d used no feminine wiles on him, executed no dazzling actions to win his regard. He loved her as she was, naïve to the ways of the world, unsure of her conversation, and innocent of how to please a man.

Her heart somersaulted and then expanded. Warmth filled her, a dizzy yet comforting warmth. A sense of belonging, of coming home, of being wanted. Like his kisses, the feeling was both marvelous and terrifying at the same time.

How could she answer him? She, who knew nothing of men and less of love, except for her secret desire. She wished, once again, she could talk to her mother. According to Tilly, her mother had worshipped her father. She’d thought the sun rose and set on her father’s countenance.

She gazed down at Nathan’s kind face and tried to imagine that kind of dedication and all-encompassing love. He’d said he loved her. Did she feel the same way? And if something were to happen when Nathan went to sea, would she pine away for him, as her mother had?

Turning her face away from the expectant look in his eyes, she gathered her thoughts. No other man, besides Gramps, had ever touched her. No man had kissed her lips. If she found Nathan’s kisses pleasing, what if she found another man’s kisses even more pleasing?

And then there was James Whitman. She’d loved him since she could remember. How could she dismiss years of secretly longing for him?

She pulled her hands free. “I’m honored by your proposal, Nathan.” Gathering courage with each word, she continued, “But you just said this was sudden. And I don’t know how Gramps feels. Give me time to consider your proposal. Please.”

“Of course, take all the time you need. My feelings won’t change. I’ll love you tomorrow and the next day and the day after that.” He raised his head. “If you want me to speak to your grandfather, I will.”

“No, not just yet.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes, dissembling for the first time.

****

Holding two champagne glasses, Alejandro returned to where he’d left Angelina. She wasn’t there. He lifted his head and searched the crowd for her rose-colored gown but didn’t find it. He scanned both sides of the ballroom, but she was nowhere to be found.

He shifted his attention to the whirling dancers. Across the wide ballroom, near the French doors leading to the terrace, he caught a glimpse of rose-colored satin. He followed her as she spun around.

Seeing her in the arms of another man, one of the merchants he’d introduced to her earlier, his muscles tensed. Blood poured through his veins in a hot rush. And he had a sudden splitting headache, as if demons were pounding his temples with tiny hammers.

His body was on alert, as if preparing to fight. He knew the symptoms well. But he wasn’t prepared to fight. Not over Angelina. He shook his head and wondered at his visceral response. Might it be protective on his part? After all, he’d taken on the role of her protector and guide in Key West.

Lifting one champagne glass and then the other, he downed the bubbly wine in two gulps. He wasn’t a drinking man, and the champagne flowed through him, invading his body, relaxing his taut muscles and slowing his pounding heart.

That was better. He couldn’t allow Angelina or her actions to affect him. He would help her get her factory started, for old times’ sake. Nothing more. That part of him had died, long ago, devoured in the flames that had scarred his face.

There was a time years past, when he’d thought he was in love with her. He’d held fast to that dream during the long years in Spain. He’d even brought her back a token of his affection; a raucous, saucy mynah bird. He wondered what had happened to the bird.

Angelina flashed by, and he inclined his head toward her, raising one empty champagne glass in a mock salute. She acknowledged his gesture with a tight smile and nod.

When the music ended, he expected her to return. But she didn’t. Instead, she stopped across the room and was immediately surrounded by a coterie of young and old men, fawning over her.

Cocking his head, he studied her. She was beautiful, always beautiful, but he didn’t think the rose-colored gown suited her. The color of the gown made her appear too pale, almost wan. She should wear deep, rich hues, to offset her dark hair and violet eyes, like crimson or emerald green or gold. Perhaps she’d chosen that particular gown to appear demure, wanting to be accepted by Key West society.

When the first strains of a quadrille started, she was swept away again, this time by a young swain he didn’t recognize. The boy looked barely old enough to be shaving. Alejandro shrugged and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Tired of waiting, he left the empty glasses on a sideboard and crossed the crowded ballroom. He looked for Destiny and Nathan but didn’t find them.

The quadrille ended, and he was on the same side of the ballroom as Angelina. Expecting her to return, at least for the sake of appearances, he was surprised when the orchestra began a furious polka, and she flew by in the arms of yet another man. He was one of the bankers he’d presented her to, a much older man with bristly mutton-chop whiskers.

Young and old alike, Angelina charms them all.

A wave of something akin to self-pity swept him. He’d brought her to the ball to make contacts, but he hadn’t expected her to ignore him completely.

He cast around the ballroom for something to do. He knew most of the men present. He could always strike up a conversation about business. But then his activities in Key West weren’t held in the best of favor. Most businessmen resented him for uncovering armaments, believing his actions suppressed trade.

He searched for Warner again, only to be disappointed. The man might not even show tonight. He preferred other pursuits, like visiting his mistress, to society parties. He couldn’t rely on Warner coming. Where were Nathan and Destiny? Had they disappeared for the night? If he could find them, he’d have someone to chat with.

But was that the reason he wanted to find them? Or was the real reason because he wanted them to lure Angelina back?

Damned if he knew.

He shuffled his feet and was suddenly conscious of the scars on his face. He wished for his wide Panama hat and flicked a piece of lint from his lapel. He snorted. He didn’t need to lure Angelina back. In fact, he didn’t need anyone or anything. His life was quite complete as it was. Gracias a Dios.

He wandered toward the tables at the end of the ballroom. Once there, he requested a brandy. Champagne wasn’t his drink of choice. He preferred brandy, when he chose to drink. He drank one glass, the fiery liquid sliding down his throat. Armed with a second glass, he moved around the ballroom.

Several acquaintances tried to draw him into conversation, but he wasn’t interested. Drinking the brandy had made him restless and unwilling to listen to idle chatter. After swallowing the last of his second brandy, his head was light while his body felt heavy and slow. A little fresh air might clear his head. He crossed to the French doors and stepped onto the terrace. He overheard a muted conversation and was mildly surprised to discover Nathan and Destiny.

Nathan was on his knees in front of Destiny, kissing her hands. Glimpsing the tender scene made him feel like an intruder. He turned around and re-entered the ballroom.

Once inside, his head was better. In fact, he was feeling so much better he decided to get another brandy. The orchestra had stopped, taking an intermission. He glanced around, searching for Angelina again. People stood in tight circles, chatting. He didn’t see her.

Fetching another brandy, he twirled the snifter in his hand, wondering where Angelina was and who she was with. The tender scene he’d glimpsed on the terrace haunted him. What if he’d found Angelina there, with a man on bended knee, kissing her hands? How would he have reacted?

He heard a loud clatter across the ballroom, silence, and then a collective gasp. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see what had aroused the crowd. He searched again for Angelina’s rose-colored gown but didn’t find her. He sauntered to the deserted foyer. If the terrace was occupied, he’d step outside the front door and get some air.

The butler, standing at attention at the end of the hall, bowed and opened the door for him. Once outside, he fished inside his vest pocket for a cigar and one of the newly invented safety matches. Finding both, he lit his cigar and puffed, trailing a stream of smoke. He gazed out at the quiet night, listening to the palm fronds rattle in the breeze.

Angelina was more than capable of leading her life without his help. The brandy and cigar had mellowed his mood. If she wanted to dance the night away and ignore him, he shouldn’t concern himself.

He savored his cigar and listened to the soothing night sounds of crickets chirping, frogs croaking, and the call of nightjars. Being outside was refreshing after the crush inside.

Why stay? Angelina was doing fine. He just needed to let Nathan and Destiny know he was leaving and ensure they would accompany her home. Then he would make his farewells to his host and hostess.

He ground out his cigar and tossed the butt aside. Re-entering the house, he crossed the long foyer and arrived back at the ballroom, intent upon finding Nathan and Destiny. He hoped they’d come inside and weren’t still courting on the dark terrace. When he entered the ballroom, he realized the orchestra had resumed playing, another waltz.

And then he saw her.

She’d changed partners again. The dark countenance of her new partner swam into view. The man holding Angelina in his arms was Cortez, Alejandro’s enemy, a dangerous man. What was he doing at the ball, dancing with Angelina?