title,” Alex repeated, not liking the sound of it.
“Why not?” Esteves answered. “Women marry for silly reasons. Why not a good one?”
Alex shook his head. The girl he had once known would not have auctioned herself off in this manner. Then again, in the end, she hadn’t gone with him.
Still, he hadn’t married, and he didn’t like the thought she was going to. In a more rational moment, he might feel differently. Right now the idea was like a hot poker in his gut.
“The problem is,” Esteves continued, apparently blissfully unaware of the impact of his information on Alex, “Sir William. Dona Overstreet tells me he is exactly what Senhorina Cameron is searching for unless I can change her mind. I think Dona Overstreet does not take my offer seriously,” he confided. “The English only think of themselves.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that opinion. “And you believe you can win the mercenary Miss Cameron over?” he asked derisively.
“With your help.”
Now Alex’s guard was up. “What do you want me to do?”
“What you already do. I want to come to minha casa and be a distraction to Senhorina Cameron.”
“How does that help you?”
“It doesn’t,” Esteves agreed sadly. “I know she may not hear what is in my heart. Beautiful women are like that. But I will at least show her minha casa and my wealth and promise her a title, and maybe she will smile at me and say yes.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then you will be there to see that Sir William does not win her. See? I am not a good loser. She may say no. I shall do my best to win her. I shall offer her everything I have. But if she says no, I shall not give her to him. Dona Overstreet thinks she is clever, but I am wilier. She will pay a price for not being more helpful to me.”
For a second Alex was speechless at the turn of events—and then he began laughing. It started with a chuckle and grew into a full belly laugh.
Poor Miranda being the center of all this intrigue. And all she wanted was a husband. The irony made him double over with laughter.
Now he understood why she wouldn’t go with him when he’d asked. She’d wanted something better. She wanted a bloody title.
Lady Miranda.
He’d never heard such a joke. And he would do anything to thwart her cold-blooded plans. He’d even delight in it.
Noticing the stiffness in Esteves’s shoulders, Alex held up his hands. “Please, senhor, I do not laugh at you. In fact, I believe you deserve Miss Cameron. I think she would be very happy here in the Azores.”
He didn’t catch the hint of irony. “You believe?”
“I do,” Alex said, this time with complete sincerity.
“So you will come this evening?”
Alex smiled. “With pleasure.”
Five
S enhor Esteves’s house was a sprawling building surrounded by the lush greenery of the foothills above Ponta Delgada. The pilot also owned a home in the town itself, but it was here he entertained and displayed his wealth. The promise of a feast being prepared left a scented trail to the house.
Lady Overstreet, Miranda, Captain Lewis, and Sir William—whom Her Ladyship had insisted accompany them—rode in a cart driven by Senhor Esteves’s nephew, Diego. They were not the first to arrive. A long line of carts full of guests waited their turn on the winding drive. Clearly, everyone knew one another, and their happy chatter added to the festive air. One of the carts included the junior officers from Sir William’s ship.
Many more guests traveled by foot. Miranda was mesmerized by the beauty of the Azorean women; their dark, glossy hair; and the bold, vibrant colors of their dresses. She felt positively pale in her ivory lace.
At the moment, Lady Overstreet was most put out with Miranda because she had forgotten her fan, something Her Ladyship had not checked before they left. Now Miranda wished she had that fan to fidget with and help her hide her self-consciousness.
“They are talking about you,” Captain
“Why not?” Esteves answered. “Women marry for silly reasons. Why not a good one?”
Alex shook his head. The girl he had once known would not have auctioned herself off in this manner. Then again, in the end, she hadn’t gone with him.
Still, he hadn’t married, and he didn’t like the thought she was going to. In a more rational moment, he might feel differently. Right now the idea was like a hot poker in his gut.
“The problem is,” Esteves continued, apparently blissfully unaware of the impact of his information on Alex, “Sir William. Dona Overstreet tells me he is exactly what Senhorina Cameron is searching for unless I can change her mind. I think Dona Overstreet does not take my offer seriously,” he confided. “The English only think of themselves.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that opinion. “And you believe you can win the mercenary Miss Cameron over?” he asked derisively.
“With your help.”
Now Alex’s guard was up. “What do you want me to do?”
“What you already do. I want to come to minha casa and be a distraction to Senhorina Cameron.”
“How does that help you?”
“It doesn’t,” Esteves agreed sadly. “I know she may not hear what is in my heart. Beautiful women are like that. But I will at least show her minha casa and my wealth and promise her a title, and maybe she will smile at me and say yes.”
“What if she says no?”
“Then you will be there to see that Sir William does not win her. See? I am not a good loser. She may say no. I shall do my best to win her. I shall offer her everything I have. But if she says no, I shall not give her to him. Dona Overstreet thinks she is clever, but I am wilier. She will pay a price for not being more helpful to me.”
For a second Alex was speechless at the turn of events—and then he began laughing. It started with a chuckle and grew into a full belly laugh.
Poor Miranda being the center of all this intrigue. And all she wanted was a husband. The irony made him double over with laughter.
Now he understood why she wouldn’t go with him when he’d asked. She’d wanted something better. She wanted a bloody title.
Lady Miranda.
He’d never heard such a joke. And he would do anything to thwart her cold-blooded plans. He’d even delight in it.
Noticing the stiffness in Esteves’s shoulders, Alex held up his hands. “Please, senhor, I do not laugh at you. In fact, I believe you deserve Miss Cameron. I think she would be very happy here in the Azores.”
He didn’t catch the hint of irony. “You believe?”
“I do,” Alex said, this time with complete sincerity.
“So you will come this evening?”
Alex smiled. “With pleasure.”
Five
S enhor Esteves’s house was a sprawling building surrounded by the lush greenery of the foothills above Ponta Delgada. The pilot also owned a home in the town itself, but it was here he entertained and displayed his wealth. The promise of a feast being prepared left a scented trail to the house.
Lady Overstreet, Miranda, Captain Lewis, and Sir William—whom Her Ladyship had insisted accompany them—rode in a cart driven by Senhor Esteves’s nephew, Diego. They were not the first to arrive. A long line of carts full of guests waited their turn on the winding drive. Clearly, everyone knew one another, and their happy chatter added to the festive air. One of the carts included the junior officers from Sir William’s ship.
Many more guests traveled by foot. Miranda was mesmerized by the beauty of the Azorean women; their dark, glossy hair; and the bold, vibrant colors of their dresses. She felt positively pale in her ivory lace.
At the moment, Lady Overstreet was most put out with Miranda because she had forgotten her fan, something Her Ladyship had not checked before they left. Now Miranda wished she had that fan to fidget with and help her hide her self-consciousness.
“They are talking about you,” Captain
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