me, Paloma.” Isabella glanced at Sister Beatriz, who was still asleep, and said in a lowered voice, “I’m leaving anyway.”
“Reverend Mother won’t allow it,” Alejandra said.
Bella shrugged. “She can’t stop me. I’m a married woman, and in two weeks I will be one-and-twenty.” And if Reverend Mother tried to stop her, she’d go over the wall. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before, and Reverend Mother knew it.
Alejandra sniffed. “I don’t believe you. What will you do? How will you support yourself? Who will protect you? It’s dangerous—”
“I will support myself,” Bella said. “And I will protect myself. I won’t stay here, waiting forever for someone to rescue me. Life isn’t a fairy tale.”
“Isabella Ripton,” said a voice from the doorway.
All the girls jumped guiltily.
“Isabella,” Sister Josefina repeated as she entered the door. She was the youngest and prettiest of the nuns, closest in age to the girls, merry and lively, but dedicated to her vocation. “Tidy yourself up. Your hair is a mess. Reverend Mother wants you to come to her office at once. You have a visitor!”
“A visitor? Who?” In eight years, Bella had never had a visitor. Not since Ramón had come looking for her, and failed to find her. And why would Ramón come back after all this time?
Sister Josefina smiled. “Can’t you guess?”
Mystified, Bella shook her head.
“An Englishman.”
Bella froze.
Sister Josefina nodded. “Tall, dark, and as beautiful as an archangel.”
Bella couldn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t utter a word or even marshal a coherent thought.
“A very stern, very masculine archangel.” Sister Josefina sighed. And a blush rose on her cheeks.
Lieutenant Ripton was
here
?
“Isabella?” Sister Josefina said.
Bella started. Everyone was staring at her. She pulled herself together. “I told you he’d come,” she managed and moved toward the door.
“Tidy your hair,” Sister Josefina reminded her, and Isabella started tucking in the errant strands that had come loose from her braid.
“Her hair?” Alejandra exclaimed. “You can’t let her go dressed like that!”
“Like what?” Isabella glanced down at herself, puzzled. She looked the same as always; neater than usual, in fact. She smoothed her hair back.
“In those…”—Alejandra gestured—“those
convent
clothes! She hasn’t seen her husband for eight years. She can’t go to him in those!”
“Yes, she needs something pretty,” Dolores agreed.
Bella looked down at her plain dark blue and gray dress. “I don’t have anything pretty.” She’d arrived at the convent with nothing, and the convent had dressed her ever since. The lack had never bothered her. Until now.
“No, but I do,” said Alejandra. She turned to Sister Josefina. “Sister, let us dress Isabella nicely to meet her husband. Please, Sister, we won’t take long.”
“Yes, pleeeeease, Sister,” the other girls joined in.
The young nun glanced from the girls’ eager faces to Isabella standing there in her drab clothes. “Be quick then,” she said. “Reverend Mother is waiting.”
L uke sat across the desk from Isabella’s aunt and willed himself not to fidget. She was now the Mother Superior and seemed in no hurry to move things along. He’d left his horses outside the convent in the care of a grubby urchin.Times were still bad in Spain, and the mountains were no doubt still full of brigands. And most thieves started young.
“She won’t be long, Lieutenant Ripton.” Isabella’s aunt had aged a good deal in the last years, Luke thought. Her face, under the severe nun’s garb, was thinner, her pale ivory complexion drawn tight over high cheekbones and blurred with a web of fine lines. The war had not been easy on her.
“Lord Ripton,” he corrected her. Her brows arched, and Luke explained. “I inherited the title from my uncle who was drowned in an unfortunate boating accident.”
“I had not realized
“Reverend Mother won’t allow it,” Alejandra said.
Bella shrugged. “She can’t stop me. I’m a married woman, and in two weeks I will be one-and-twenty.” And if Reverend Mother tried to stop her, she’d go over the wall. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before, and Reverend Mother knew it.
Alejandra sniffed. “I don’t believe you. What will you do? How will you support yourself? Who will protect you? It’s dangerous—”
“I will support myself,” Bella said. “And I will protect myself. I won’t stay here, waiting forever for someone to rescue me. Life isn’t a fairy tale.”
“Isabella Ripton,” said a voice from the doorway.
All the girls jumped guiltily.
“Isabella,” Sister Josefina repeated as she entered the door. She was the youngest and prettiest of the nuns, closest in age to the girls, merry and lively, but dedicated to her vocation. “Tidy yourself up. Your hair is a mess. Reverend Mother wants you to come to her office at once. You have a visitor!”
“A visitor? Who?” In eight years, Bella had never had a visitor. Not since Ramón had come looking for her, and failed to find her. And why would Ramón come back after all this time?
Sister Josefina smiled. “Can’t you guess?”
Mystified, Bella shook her head.
“An Englishman.”
Bella froze.
Sister Josefina nodded. “Tall, dark, and as beautiful as an archangel.”
Bella couldn’t move a muscle. She couldn’t utter a word or even marshal a coherent thought.
“A very stern, very masculine archangel.” Sister Josefina sighed. And a blush rose on her cheeks.
Lieutenant Ripton was
here
?
“Isabella?” Sister Josefina said.
Bella started. Everyone was staring at her. She pulled herself together. “I told you he’d come,” she managed and moved toward the door.
“Tidy your hair,” Sister Josefina reminded her, and Isabella started tucking in the errant strands that had come loose from her braid.
“Her hair?” Alejandra exclaimed. “You can’t let her go dressed like that!”
“Like what?” Isabella glanced down at herself, puzzled. She looked the same as always; neater than usual, in fact. She smoothed her hair back.
“In those…”—Alejandra gestured—“those
convent
clothes! She hasn’t seen her husband for eight years. She can’t go to him in those!”
“Yes, she needs something pretty,” Dolores agreed.
Bella looked down at her plain dark blue and gray dress. “I don’t have anything pretty.” She’d arrived at the convent with nothing, and the convent had dressed her ever since. The lack had never bothered her. Until now.
“No, but I do,” said Alejandra. She turned to Sister Josefina. “Sister, let us dress Isabella nicely to meet her husband. Please, Sister, we won’t take long.”
“Yes, pleeeeease, Sister,” the other girls joined in.
The young nun glanced from the girls’ eager faces to Isabella standing there in her drab clothes. “Be quick then,” she said. “Reverend Mother is waiting.”
L uke sat across the desk from Isabella’s aunt and willed himself not to fidget. She was now the Mother Superior and seemed in no hurry to move things along. He’d left his horses outside the convent in the care of a grubby urchin.Times were still bad in Spain, and the mountains were no doubt still full of brigands. And most thieves started young.
“She won’t be long, Lieutenant Ripton.” Isabella’s aunt had aged a good deal in the last years, Luke thought. Her face, under the severe nun’s garb, was thinner, her pale ivory complexion drawn tight over high cheekbones and blurred with a web of fine lines. The war had not been easy on her.
“Lord Ripton,” he corrected her. Her brows arched, and Luke explained. “I inherited the title from my uncle who was drowned in an unfortunate boating accident.”
“I had not realized
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