Chapter Thirteen

She must have slept despite her fears, Angelina realized, as she wakened to voices above her. She guessed they were far enough out that López was coming to allow her to tidy herself. The hold door slid back.

“Angelina, Angelina, are you down here?” The voice startled her because it sounded like Alejandro. She would have recognized his voice anywhere. But how could that be? López was her jailor. Had her capture and depression deranged her mind? Was she hallucinating?

She heard footsteps on the stairs. “Angelina, I know they’ve gagged you and you can’t answer. I’m coming to free you.”

It was Alejandro!

She hadn’t been hallucinating. A shaft of pure joy pierced her. Her heart thundered in her chest. Excited, she tried to scoot forward and rise to her knees, but the ropes were too tight and she fell heavily to one side.

He pulled her gently to her feet and snatched the bag from her head. He’d brought a lantern with him, and the dark hold was suddenly bathed in soft light. Gazing into his eyes, she sobbed behind her gag; she was so glad to see him.

She tried to speak, but her voice was muffled by the bandana.

He shook his head and yanked the gag out of her mouth.

She gazed at him and tried to speak again, but her mouth felt as if it were stuffed with cotton. And her jaw was sore and bruised.

He offered her a water bottle. “Drink this, but do so slowly. Rinse some in your mouth first and spit it out. Then try to swallow.”

She did as he directed, and after the first two tries her throat finally worked, accepting the liquid. Nothing had ever tasted so good, not the finest wine nor the sweetest punch, as the cool water slid down her parched throat.

While she was drinking, Alejandro loosed her hands and feet, chaffing her wrists and ankles with gentle hands. But when the blood rushed back into her limbs, it stung like a thousand swarming bees. The pain was so swift and unexpected it brought more tears to her eyes.

Overwhelmed by emotion and relieved Alejandro had rescued her, she slumped against his chest. His strong arms surrounded her, protecting her. She sighed and turned her face into his shirt, comforted to be held in his arms.

She, who prided herself on not needing a man, welcomed his protection with all her heart. His holding her felt good and right. And clinging to him, she felt as if she’d returned home, but the best part of home, the warm, welcoming part.

“Angelina.” He cupped her chin in his hand, raising her face to his. “Captain Rodgers is waiting with his ship. We must get you out of here. If you’re too unsteady to walk, I can carry you.”

“How…how…did you know where to find me?”

“Tilly was taking you supper, and she saw you being abducted. She ran and got Destiny, and they found me. Together, we located Captain Rodgers, and his ship, being steam powered, overtook this ship. We’re still in American waters, so the captain of this ship must obey.”

“Then you know it was López and Cortez who—”

“Sí,” he said. “Captain Rodgers has López in custody topside. He’ll talk to save his own hide and lead us to Cortez. In the United States, abducting a woman is a serious offense.”

“Not so serious if the woman is a runaway.” She sighed and dropped her head. “You might as well leave me on this ship bound for Cuba, Alejandro. I can’t go back to Key West. It won’t do any good. My father will find me.”

He gazed at her, waiting for the confession he knew was coming. López hadn’t said much yet. When they had stopped and boarded the ship, everything had happened at once. He hadn’t had time to dissect Cortez’s motive for taking her. All he’d known was Cortez must have been behind putting her on a ship to Cuba.

“Want to explain what you’re talking about?”

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “I’m not Angelina Herrera, I’m Angelina Ximenes. My father is a prosperous Cuban cigar manufacturer, living in Havana.” She hesitated. “I lied to you, Alejandro, because you seemed familiar and I didn’t want you to know who I was. I didn’t want to go back to Cuba.”

His heart lurched when she admitted she’d lied. He’d lied to her, too, keeping his identity a secret. He wanted to tell her who he was and put all the deceit behind them. But something stopped him. This wasn’t the time or place to unburden his heart. First, they needed to deal with her situation and decide what to do. Later, he could tell her who he was.

“Why don’t you want to return to your family in Cuba? Why did you run away?” He had his suspicions, but he wanted Angelina to tell him.

“My father has social ambitions. He wanted me to marry above my class. He’d arranged a marriage with a very wealthy and socially prominent planter. A man who was old enough to be my grandfather.” She buried her face against his chest again.

Holding her trembling form, he felt a tearing in his guts, pain and regret filled him. His heart, which he’d thought had died that fiery night, was shattering into tiny pieces. The waste, the awful waste of two lives. And all because her father had social ambitions.

He’d loved Angelina from the time they were children. When he’d been sent away to school in Spain, he’d written her faithfully for years. Upon his return, he’d gone to see her, innocently expecting to be allowed to court and marry her one day.

But her father had driven him away, telling him he was unwelcome at the Ximenes home. He’d tried to see Angelina, several times, despite her father’s objections, but she was locked up in a convent. He’d yearned for her and taken years to come to terms with losing her. As a dutiful son, he’d gone into business with his father and married the woman his family had chosen for him. He’d thought Angelina lost forever. But everything had changed one fiery night, and he’d fled his own ghosts, escaping to Key West.

Then Angelina had come to Key West, too. She was a woman now, no longer the child of his dreams. And she’d been carrying secrets of her own.

Pulling away, she dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her skirt. “I couldn’t submit to marriage so I ran away to Key West, thinking I could support myself with a cigar factory. But I discovered my jewels were paste, and I needed money for the factory.”

She lifted her head again. “You know the rest.” She shrugged. “I know it’s over. There’s no escape. My father has offered a reward and had handbills printed with my likeness.” She hesitated. “But I must thank you, Alejandro, for trying to save me. I’m not ungrateful. I know you did what you thought was right. And you tried to warn me about Cortez. I was too proud and desperate to listen. Now you know why.”

“Why didn’t you accept my offer of money?” He shouldn’t ask, but he needed to know.

Her eyes met his for one brief second and then slid away. “I don’t know, Alejandro. Pride, I guess. You were trying to tell me what to do, and you reminded me too much of my father, I guess.” She shrugged again.

The earlier regret he’d experienced at losing her and wasting their futures expanded in his chest, stealing his breath. Pain surged through him, blinding him and searing him, hotter than the fire that had ruined his face.

He strove to regain control of his emotions and refocus on Angelina and her dilemma. She’d been polite enough to evade his question, to offer half-baked truths. But he knew the real truth. The real reason she kept sending him away. The real reason she’d spurned him at the ball and turned on him in a frenzied rage.

He was ugly, scarred, and hideous to look at. Even Cortez with his blackened teeth must have appeared handsome by comparison. She’d been kind at first, even forthcoming because she needed him, needed him to introduce her to people to further her plans. But as soon as she met Cortez, she’d changed. Wasn’t the reason obvious?

He was glad he hadn’t followed his inclination and told her who he was. He could imagine how she would have reacted. In his mind’s eyes, he could visualize the emotions on her face, amazement, followed by denial, replaced by scorn, and ending with pity. He couldn’t have borne it. Better she not know who he was. Better she remember the boy who had departed for Spain, all those years ago.

Angelina rose and stood, swaying slightly, holding on to a barrel for support.

“Here, Angelina, let me help you.” He caught her arm and steadied her, praying she wouldn’t push him away, offended by his touch.

“You said they were waiting. I think I can walk.”

She didn’t want him to carry her. He understood why.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Alejandro.” She faced him, still holding tightly to the barrel.

“Sí. What is that?”

“I overheard Cortez and López talking before we left port. They wanted me to hear them, I think. Cortez didn’t mention smuggling, but he told López he meant to ruin me and then foreclose. Why bother helping me to go into business, if he wanted the factory for himself? López knows how to make cigars.”

“I can’t say what his motive might have been. I can guess, though. He conducts his business by furtive and circuitous means, never letting anyone know all of his plans. He probably wanted to use you as a diversion until it suited him to take over. That’s why he made specific recommendations about the factory. He might have used your factory to keep smuggled goods for a while and then foreclosed. Who knows? But I’m certain he had a plan.”

“How could he keep smuggled goods under my nose?”

“False walls or a cellar.” He shook his head. “Not a cellar, not on your property, probably a false wall. It was his men doing the construction, so it wouldn’t have been too hard to ‘add’ to the storage space. Or López could have brought in the goods by night and gotten them out by early morning. There are lots of ways. Having López was the key.”

“I hadn’t thought of all the ways. I guess I’ve been stupid all along.”

“Don’t call yourself stupid, Angelina. You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever known.”

“With woman being the defining word?” she taunted, a slow smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

He was pleased to see her smiling, especially after her ordeal, and to see she was recovering her stubborn pride. This was the Angelina he knew.

“Forget I said that. You’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever known. Better?”

She smiled again and wet her lips with her tongue. “Could I have some more water, por favor? I can’t seem to get rid of the awful taste of that gag in my mouth.”

He closed his eyes for a second, blotting out the innocent darting of her tongue. She’d done the same thing that day at her factory, and it had taken every ounce of his self-control not to kiss her. But she didn’t want him kissing her; she’d made herself clear at the ball.

When he was a youth away at school, she’d written back to him, but her letters had been childish and simple, filled with news of her family. He was the one who’d harbored a secret love for her—not the other way around. He’d merely been a family playmate. Now he was a scarred stranger.

He handed her the water bottle, and she drank deeply, the muscles in her long, slender neck contracting. What would it feel like to run his tongue over her skin? To feel her pulse, beating softly against his lips?

He looked away.

“Gracias, I feel better now.” She passed the water bottle back. Her tone of voice was resigned. “I guess I better face my fate. I hope Cortez paid for my passage to Cuba.” One side of her mouth quirked. “Would you be so kind to have Destiny ship my trunks to me? She will find my home address and some money in my jewelry box.”

He would never see her again if he let her go. But what else could he do? She was right—Key West was too close to Cuba. If her father wanted to find her badly enough, he would. And there would be others who would recognize her from the handbills and want the reward.

But how could he let her go, never to see her again, knowing he’d consigned her to a life of misery? There was only one way to save her. Was he brave enough to offer it, knowing how she scorned him and his disfigured face? Could he remain calm and accepting if she refused, or worse yet, laughed in his face?

He still loved her. More than anything in the world. More than his pride. More than his life. And because he loved her, he wanted her to be happy. At least in Key West, she could make a life for herself. And later, she’d find someone to love. Could he face the possibility when the time came, if he kept her in Florida?

There was no other way. He’d have to face it. Or he could move away once she was settled. Try his luck in Texas or California, in the Wild West he’d heard so many tall tales about from ships’ captains. Before he left, though, he’d at least know she was happy and cared for.

“Angelina, there might be a way for you to stay in Key West. Will you hear me out before refusing?”

She nodded.

“It would be in name only,” he explained, “done by a magistrate, not in the church.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, not until he’d hedged his bet by explaining. “But it would be legal and binding. And your father couldn’t make you go back. After a time”—he shrugged, wanting to appear as if it didn’t matter—“we could find a means to legally end it and free you.”

“What…what are you talking about, Alejandro? What do you mean?”

He drew himself up, praying for the courage to say the words and accept her rejection. Rushing into the fire to save his wife and child hadn’t been as frightening as what he was about to do. If she refused him outright, preferring to return to Cuba, he would know how distasteful he was to her.

“I want to marry you so you can stay in Key West.”

****

Destiny paced the wharf, back and forth, back and forth. Her mind tumbled, envisioning awful scenes of disaster. Desperate for Nathan’s ship to bring news, she stopped and strained her eyes, peering out to sea in the dark night, hoping to glimpse the running lights of the cutter.

“They’ve not had time to return, lass.” Her grandfather’s soft burr broke the tense silence. “Come and sit beside me, and quit wearing down the planks of the wharf.”

When Alejandro had left to find Nathan, she and Tilly had returned home and wakened her grandfather, explaining the situation. He’d wanted them to wait at home, but Destiny couldn’t. She’d convinced her grandfather to accompany her to the wharf. If Alejandro had found Nathan and they were able to rescue Angelina, she knew they would return here.

She wanted to be here for Angelina when they brought her back, to comfort her friend as best she could. The events of tonight were almost too fantastic to comprehend. Who could have wanted to abduct Angelina—and why?

If she were honest with herself, she knew it was her fault. She hadn’t thought it wise for Angelina to go to the building site at night, but she’d voiced no objection. She’d been too busy getting ready to meet James’ family. And what a disaster that had turned out to be.

Jennifer had made it clear she thought Destiny beneath her. The brother-in-law had been a licentious drunk, pawing her at every opportunity. And James had proven to be an insufferable snob, more upset at her leaving his sister’s dinner than the news of her friend’s abduction. If she’d thought he might show concern and want to help her, he’d effectively dashed her hopes.

Miserable and guilty, she stifled a sob. Needing someone to comfort her, she crossed to where her grandfather was and sat on the rough wooden bench. She leaned against his shoulder.

“There, there, lass.” He encircled her waist with one arm. “Everything will turn out right. Ye’ll see.”

She appreciated his reassurances but didn’t know if she believed him. Right now, the world and her situation looked pretty dismal. James had disappointed her, his family had scorned her, and she might never see Angelina again.

She stopped her train of thoughts—what was she doing—feeling sorry for herself? Angelina was the one who needed her sympathy. She was the one in trouble. Destiny lowered her head and muttered a silent prayer under her breath.

And then there was Nathan.

If all had gone according to Alejandro’s plan, she’d be seeing him when the Columbia docked. A part of her wanted to see him and another part didn’t. When she’d confessed to loving another, he’d taken her home at once.

Remembering the pain in his eyes, she cringed inwardly. She’d hurt him badly. He’d been completely silent on their return trip home. And when he’d taken her to her front door, he’d bowed stiffly and left without a parting word.

She closed her eyes and listened to her stomach grumble and gurgle. Nausea clawed at her, and the rich tortoise soup she’d eaten rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. She hoped she wouldn’t be sick on the wharf while they waited.

She’d made so many mistakes, like not warning Angelina. And leading Nathan on, using him to further her scheme to meet and attract James. And then callously hurting him, admitting she loved another man. She’d been selfish and thoughtless and deserved to be miserable.

“Destiny, lass, look there.” Her grandfather leaned forward, pointing out to sea.

Startled, she opened her eyes and followed his pointing finger.

“Yer young eyes are better than mine. Am I seeing lights to the starboard?”

Jumping to her feet, she rushed to the edge of the wharf. Far out and a little to the right, she glimpsed a pinprick of light. She watched as the light grew larger. The light was coming toward them. It had to be the Columbia. Few ships braved the coral reefs around Key West at night. With her heart in her throat, she waited, hoping and praying. Hopping from one foot to the other.

Her grandfather joined her at the edge of the wharf and slid his arm around her waist again.

She was thankful for his comforting presence. Side by side, they waited, watching the light grow larger. Finally, after what seemed like a long time, two sails came into view—white against the black night. And then she heard the slap of the paddlewheel in the water and knew for certain. It was the Columbia.

Within minutes, she could see the distinct outline of the Navy cutter. The ship maneuvered to a standstill beside the dock. Sailors threw coils of rope onto the wharf and then jumped down to secure the ship.

Her grandfather moved forward and helped to secure the gangplank.

The next thing she knew, a sailor walked down the plank, leading a short, swarthy man in chains. Was he the man who had abducted Angelina? Probably so, and she had the overwhelming urge to spit in his face, even though her gesture would be futile—they’d already captured the man, and he’d be brought to justice.

Holding her breath and keeping her gaze on the gangplank, she waited. She didn’t have long to wait before she saw Alejandro, with his arm around Angelina. She let go a cry of relief and ran forward, clambering up the gangplank.

When she reached them, she practically shoved Alejandro overboard. Grabbing Angelina, she hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad they rescued you. It was all my fault, Angelina. I shouldn’t have let you go there at night. Please forgive me. I—I’ve been thoughtless and—”

“Hush, Destiny,” Angelina interrupted. “Don’t say such things. It was no one’s fault.” Angelina patted her shoulder and pulled apart a space. “It was inevitable, amiga mía. I’ll explain why later.” She glanced at Alejandro.

Then tears welled in her friend’s eyes, and she grasped Destiny again, hugging her. “You don’t know how much your friendship means to me, Destiny. Alejandro told me how you and Tilly found him and how he fetched Captain Rodgers. If it hadn’t been for your quick thinking, there wouldn’t have been a rescue and I’d be in Cuba by now.” Angelina paused, tears shimmering on her eyelashes. “I owe you an immense debt of gratitude. Don’t you know that?”

Answering tears were streaming down Destiny’s face. They held each other for a long time. Neither of them had a sister. Destiny didn’t know how Angelina felt, but from this day forth, Angelina wasn’t just her friend. She was her sister, a sister of the heart.

Finally, they both gulped back their tears and separated. Wiping at their eyes, they smiled. But their smiles were wan and tentative, and Destiny could guess Angelina was feeling vulnerable.

Angelina lifted her head and gazed at Alejandro again.

Destiny knew she should thank him for rescuing her friend, but there would be time enough later. Arm in arm, she and Angelina descended the gangplank together.

Gramps stood at the bottom, waiting to receive them, his face wreathed in smiles. “I’m glad to see ye, Miss Angelina. It was a close thing. Aye?”

“Yes, Capitán McEwen, it was a close thing.”

“Ye look fit. They didna hurt ye, did they? I can send for the doc.”

“No, Capitán, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, though.”

“Then it’s off to bed, me lasses. Bed and rest is the thing to put ye to rights.”

They both nodded and Angelina glanced over her shoulder, obviously looking for Alejandro.

Destiny followed her gaze. She glanced up, and the breath left her body. Standing with his legs spread wide and his hands clasped behind his back, looking for all the world like the image of a watchful sea captain, Nathan stood at the top of the gangway.

Their gazes met and held for one brief moment. But he gave no outward sign of recognition. Then he lifted his head and barked an order at the sailors. Turning away, he disappeared from her line of vision. Her heart sank. How he must hate her. And she couldn’t blame him. She’d used him abominably.

Her grandfather started for home, swinging the lantern he’d brought to light their way. Trailing after him with her arm around Angelina, Destiny thrust aside her conflicted feelings about Nathan.

It was high time she stopped thinking about herself and thought of others. Tonight had been a revelation of sorts. Her dreams weren’t so important, not in the overall scheme of things. She’d lived too long for her dreams, wanting to right old wrongs. Perhaps they didn’t matter anymore.

What had Angelina once said? There were other people, interesting people, besides the society families of Key West. What her friend had failed to say was there were other people, people she loved with all her heart, such as her grandfather and Tilly and Angelina, who mattered more than fulfilling old dreams.

If Angelina hadn’t been abducted tonight, would she have realized how important her loved ones were? She didn’t know, and it was a sobering thought.

“Destiny?” Angelina interrupted her thoughts. “You’ve won the wedding wager. I’m going to marry Alejandro.”

****

The wedding was a hurried affair, thrown together in two days. For the occasion, Angelina borrowed one of Destiny’s dresses, a high-necked, ivory-satin gown. Tilly had rushed to let out the waist a couple of inches and add a flounce of lace to the bottom. She’d purposely chosen to go bareheaded because Destiny refused to honor their bet by giving her a veil, saying a marriage of convenience didn’t count.

Angelina smiled, remembering how scandalized Destiny had been when she’d learned her friend was marrying Alejandro to remain in Key West. Though Destiny had understood her dilemma and wanted Angelina to stay, her romantic heart hadn’t accepted the sham wedding.

She stood in front of the magistrate with Alejandro and wondered at her decision. Gazing at the perfect profile of the left side of his face, she was reminded of how handsome a man he’d been. To her mind’s eye, he was still handsome. She worried that living as man and wife, even though their marriage was a ruse, would be her downfall.

How could she resist him? Did she want to resist him?

Shaking her head, she tried not to think about the future. For the time being, she was safe. Her father couldn’t reach her now. Captain McEwen had been kind enough to act as a surrogate father, escorting her down the short aisle and giving her away. And Destiny, despite her romantic disapproval, stood with her, acting as bridesmaid.

Alejandro had asked Captain Rodgers to be his best man. An unusual choice, but not so strange if she remembered how they’d acted together to save her. And she couldn’t thank Nathan enough for her rescue. The Navy captain was a good man, and she liked him. Unfortunately, Destiny had parted from Nathan by declaring her love for James Whitman.

And it was painfully obvious that both Destiny and Nathan were uncomfortable at being thrown together for the wedding.

The magistrate cleared his throat loudly and intoned the opening words of the ceremony. Angelina strained to listen, but his words didn’t register.

She felt strange, as if she were standing outside her body and looking on. She’d acquiesced to their marriage because it was better than returning to Cuba and facing what her father had planned. Alejandro had promised she could live her life as she saw fit, running her factory without his interference. He’d even promised to end the marriage when her father was convinced to leave her alone.

But somehow, all his reassurances rang hollow. She was more than aware of their attraction to each other. How could they possibly withstand temptation, living together as man and wife? And if they succumbed to temptation, there would be no easy annulment. Even if they weren’t married by the Church, if they shared a bed, they were married in the eyes of God. And what if a child came of their union?

The magistrate, attired in a worn frock coat and soiled linen, said something about taking this man and stared at her. Trying to focus, she was like a fish out of water, completely out of her element.

Alejandro squeezed her hand.

She lifted her head and gazed expectantly at the magistrate.

The man met her gaze and frowned. Impatience colored the tone of his voice when he repeated, “Will you, Angelina Ximenes, take this man for your lawfully wedded husband? For richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to honor and obey?”

The word “obey” stuck in her mind.

What had she gotten herself into?

There was no going back. The die was cast. She’d gambled and lost…or won, depending upon how her future played out.

Gazing at Alejandro, she knew he was good and kind, forthright and honest. He was young, and a healthy physical specimen. A far better “catch” then the ancient planter whom her father wanted her to marry.

She should be happy to have escaped her fate, to have been rescued. It was why she’d accepted his marriage proposal, wasn’t it? Or was it? She was attracted to Alejandro and wanted nothing more than to shelter in his strong arms and have him teach her the pleasures between a man and woman. But that would be her downfall, binding her for life.

Would it be so terrible?

Old memories rose in her mind, swamping her. When she was small, she’d been her father’s favorite, following him everywhere with unswerving love, trust, and devotion. And he’d reciprocated her love, doting on her, giving her everything her heart desired.

But when she’d grown into a young woman, her father had turned on her, changing before her very eyes. Gone was the easy affection, to be replaced by an aloof distance. Then he’d begun to plot her future and her marriage. No longer was she her father’s beloved hija. Suddenly, she was a thing to be bartered and sold.

Was it any wonder she didn’t trust men? That she cursed their controlling, domineering ways? As much as she respected Alejandro and was grateful to him, could she trust him to be any different?

The magistrate cleared his throat loudly.

Alejandro glanced at her.

It was too late for regrets. She must speak.

She cleared her throat, too, and said, “I do.”

The magistrate nodded and moved on, addressing Alejandro with a similar vow. Except his vow didn’t include the obey part.

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Alejandro intoned solemnly, slipping something cold and hard on the third finger of her left hand.

Lost in her thoughts, his gesture drew her back, and she glanced down to find a gold band on her finger. But it wasn’t a customary wedding ring. Opening her eyes wide, she stared at it. The ring was shaped like a cigar band, wide in the middle and tapering at the sides. Tiny precious stones lined the edges, mimicking the colored lettering of a cigar label.

Realizing the thoughtfulness that had gone into fashioning the special ring, especially in such a short time, her eyes misted. She lifted her head and gazed at Alejandro, silently thanking him for the gesture.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the magistrate thundered. “You may kiss the bride.”

Closing her eyes, she felt cherished by Alejandro’s gift of the custom-made ring. He’d thought of what would please her, not what society dictated. The ring was a hopeful start. Perhaps he really was different from other men. Perhaps they could live together as equals, respecting each other. Was it too much to expect?

She lifted her face to be kissed, silently surrendering herself to him, heart, body, and soul. Expecting a searing kiss, like the night at the ball, she was surprised when his lips barely brushed hers. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at him.

He smiled but averted his gaze.

So that was the way of it. He planned to honor his promises, to make this a marriage in name only. She should be relieved, but instead, his unexpected aloofness drove an icy wedge into her heart.