Beauvallet by Georgette Heyer Page A

were not an enemy and a heretic, I would choose to give my daughter to just such a one as you.’ He smiled faintly at the quick surprise in Beauvallet's face. ‘Ay, señor, but you are both these things, and it is impossible. Impossible!’
    ‘Señor, a word I do not know. I have warned you. Take what precaution you will, but whether you are quick or dead, I shall have your daughter, in spite of anything you may do.’
    ‘Sir Nicholas, you have a brave spirit, and that I like in you. I have no need to take precautions, for you could never penetrate into Spain.’
    ‘God be my witness, señor, I shall penetrate.’
    ‘You must needs be foresworn, señor. At sea you may be a match for us, but how might you dare face all Spain in Spain itself ?’
    ‘I shall certainly dare, señor,’ said Sir Nicholas calmly.
    Don Manuel seemed to shrug his shoulders. ‘I see, señor, there is to be no ho with you. You may be but an idle boaster, or a madman, as they say – I know not. I could wish you were a Spaniard. There is no more to say.’

Five

    D on manuel took an early opportunity of finding out, as he imagined, what were his daughter's feelings. He asked her without preamble how she liked Sir Nicholas. God knows what the poor gentleman thought to get from her.
    ‘Very ill, señor,’ said she.
    ‘I fear me,’ said Don Manuel, closely watching her, ‘that he likes you too well, child.’
    Dominica perceived that she was being tested, and achieved a scornful laugh. ‘Unhappy man! But it's an impertinence.’
    Don Manuel was entirely satisfied. Liking Beauvallet well enough himself he could even be sorry that his daughter had conceived so vehement a distaste for him. ‘I am sorry that he is what he is,’ he said. ‘I could find it in me to like a man of his mettle.’
    ‘A boaster,’ said Dominica, softly scornful.
    ‘One would say so indeed. But before we set sail, Dominica, methought you made some sort of a hero of him in your mind. You were always eager to hear tell of his deeds.’
    ‘I had not met him then, señor,’ Dominica answered primly.
    Don Manuel smiled. ‘Well, he is a wild fellow. I am glad you have sense enough to see it. But use him gently, child, for we stand somewhat beholden to him. He swears to set us ashorein Spain, and madre de dios! I believe he will do it, though how I know not.’
    The upshot of all this was to make Dominica curious to know Beauvallet's plans. She tackled Master Dangerfield about it that very evening as he played cards with her in the stateroom, and demanded to know what his general had in mind. Master Dangerfield professed ignorance, and was not believed. ‘What!’ said my lady, incredulous. ‘I am not to suppose you are not in his confidence, señor, surely! It is just that you will not tell me.’
    ‘Upon my oath, señora, no!’ Dangerfield assured her. ‘Sir Nicholas keeps his counsel. Ask your question of him: he will tell you, I doubt not.’
    ‘Oh, I desire to have no traffic with him,’ said my lady, and applied herself to the cards again.
    There came soon enough what she had hoped to hear: a bluff voice, a brisk tread, a laugh echoing along the alleyway. The door was flung open; Beauvallet came in, with a word tossed over his shoulder for someone outside. ‘Save you, lady!’ quoth he. ‘Diccon, there is a trifle of business calls you. Give me your cards; I will endeavour.’
    Dangerfield gave up his cards at once, and bowed excuses to the lady. As always, Beauvallet left her without a word to say. Truth to tell she was glad to have him in Dangerfield's stead, but why could he not ask her permission?
    He sat down in Dangerfield's chair; Dangerfield, with his hand on the door, paused to say, smiling: ‘Dona Dominica hath all the luck, sir, as you shall find.’
    ‘And you none, Diccon. I may believe it. But I will back myself against her. Away with you.’ He flicked a card out from his hand, and smiled across the table at Dominica. ‘To the death,