herself, most especially not to her burned leg. The pain hadn’t ebbed—it had been all she could do not to whimper the entire time Elijah was carrying her to the tent. She didn’t want to frighten Jake any more than he already was, but now she couldn’t stop slow tears from leaking down her face.
He sat up beside her, frowning in childish worry, and patted her cheeks. “What’s wrong, Mama?”
It was all she could do not to laugh hysterically. What wasn’t wrong? Her husband was dead, the closest thing to a home she possessed had been burned around her, her ankle and shin stung as if she’d stepped into a beehive, and above all she wasn’t safe and now she knew it. Luisa’s lie wasn’t going to be enough to deflect all suspicion. She couldn’t take Jake and the rubies and go home to England, not anymore.
Fortunately Luisa spoke for her. “She has a burn, querido. They hurt very much.”
Jake nodded, accepting this.
“Now, you go to Elijah and wait with him,” Luisa continued. “Then you may come back to our tent with me and spend the night with Fernando...what is left of it.”
“May I, Mama?”
“Yes, dear heart.” It would be a relief, to be spared worry about her son for a few hours. She might even dare to ask Lieutenant Farlow if he had any spirits tucked away in one of his trunks. If she got drunk enough, maybe she could sleep away the worst of the pain.
“Will their tent burn, too?” he asked, his big eyes wide with fear.
“No,” Luisa said firmly. “Your tent burned because a bad man set fire to it, and he’s tied up under guard now. He cannot hurt you again.”
“Oh,” Jake said. He nodded and smiled, satisfied. Rose shook her head. What kind of world was she bringing her son up in? He jumped down from the cot and ran for the tent entrance. Both women waited until they heard his high child’s voice answered by Elijah and Lieutenant Farlow’s deeper adult rumbles, friendly and reassuring.
“Now, let me see,” Luisa said, gently turning up the burned part of Rose’s skirt. “Not as bad as I feared.”
“It hurts like the devil,” Rose said, wiping her eyes.
“Of course it does. It is fire, no? But this will make you feel better.” She opened the little clay pot she’d brought with her and began gently rubbing the salve onto the burns.
Whatever it was—and Rose could pick out the smells of honey and lavender—it did feel cooling and soothing. The pain began to fade to something more like an ordinary cooking burn and less like a horde of stinging bees. “That does help. Thank you.”
Luisa shrugged as she began wrapping a loose bandage over the leg. “ De nada. ”
“There’s something else I should show you,” Rose said, lowering her voice to a whisper. Since Luisa had boldly stepped into the breach to claim her coral rosary was the treasure Yonge had come to steal, it was only fair she knew the truth. Rose twitched her skirt and petticoat higher, above her knee.
Luisa’s eyes went wide. “ Madre de Dios. ”
“Why did you say it was the rosary, when you didn’t even know there was anything?”
Luisa tied the bandage in place, then leaned in for a closer view. “No, I knew there was something to set Lewis talking. So I thought, he said red, and my beads are red. I will trick them, and perhaps there will be less trouble.”
Rose reached out to clasp Luisa’s hand. “How can I ever repay you? I owe you too much already.”
“Nonsense,” she murmured briskly. “We are friends. No need to pay. Besides—” She stared at the rubies for one moment more, then tugged Rose’s skirts down to hide them away again. “I do not know if it will be enough.”
Rose shook her head sadly. She’d already thought of that. It might be enough to keep the officers from looking into the matter, but some of the soldiers would still suspect, especially if she declared her intent to go home. “If I’m to keep this safe, I need to marry again.”
“But then it will
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