Princess Maria Sofia? Justin swallowed hard. So this was the royal princess and heir presumptive to the throne of San Gabriel. Princesses were only supposed to be stunningly beautiful in fairy tales, not real life.

He bowed forward in his saddle. "Your Royal Highness, I am honored to meet you." He barely remembered to add, "And you also, Miss Markham."

"The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Ballard. We have been awaiting your arrival with great antic.i.p.ation." There was amus.e.m.e.nt in Miss Markham's eyes. She was probably used to seeing men struck witless when they met the princess.

When Maria Sofia's gaze met his, her eyes widened for such a brief instant that he wasn't sure if he was imagining it. Then the polished manners of a royal princess took over and she offered her hand. "On behalf of San Gabriel, I give thanks for your willingness to help us."

Her gloved hand was delicate, but her grip was firm. This was a girl who had learned to be more than a demure maiden of no opinions. He supposed that princesses learned early to deal with whatever and whoever came their way.

How old was she? Seventeen, perhaps eighteen? Too young for him. And a princess, for heaven's sake! The Ballard family was well-off, but not remotely royal.

Putting inconvenient attraction aside, he released her hand and said seriously, "The war has cost so many people so much. I'm glad to contribute to San Gabriel's recovery in some way."

"Your men can be accommodated in the military barracks, but you must stay at the castle. We have a great deal of s.p.a.ce, and I'm sure you and Major Masterson have much to catch up on."

"Indeed we do." Could he sound any more vapid if he tried?

Thankfully, Will said, "Empanadas and sangria await. Later we can determine which projects to undertake first, now that the supplies have arrived."

"The grapevine cuttings must be planted as soon as possible," Justin said, glad to have a subject he was knowledgeable about. "It's already rather late in the season for planting. The sooner they're in the ground, the sooner they can begin to grow."

"Very true," the princess said as she turned her horse back toward the river. "The vines must be a priority. But now that you have the nails and hardware you need, it is time for you to build the bridge you promised us, Major Masterson. How soon might that be possible?"

"I think planting and building can be started at the same time," Miss Markham said. "But there remains the question of the long timbers needed for the bridge."

"I've calculated the amount required," Will said. "Now all we need is to locate usable lengths of seasoned wood."

The princess glanced at him. "I believe I have a solution, Major. Senor Oliviera and I have discussed this. Two castle outbuildings that were constructed with long timbers can be spared. If you believe they will suit, the buildings can be torn down and the wood used for your bridge. That will work, yes?"

"I've been thinking along those lines myself," Will admitted. "Once in Spain we tore down a nearby inn for its timbers when an emergency bridge had to be built, but it's not a popular solution. The innkeeper wasn't happy, even though he was compensated."

"We need the bridge more than we need so many barns, particularly since much of our livestock was stolen by the French and it will take time to rebuild the herds. Tonight, the four of us must dine together and discuss how best to proceed, now that Mr. Ballard has arrived with the supplies and workmen." The princess gestured for Justin to ride beside her. "And, please, sir, tell me about the wine-shipping business. This may be information San Gabriel can use."

"I can talk about the wine trade all day and into the night, your highness," Justin said, absurdly pleased. "You are warned!"

She laughed. "Please call me Sofia. This is a very small kingdom, after all."

He'd never been on a first-name basis with a princess, even a very young one. "I'm honored. In return, I hope you'll call me Justin. Now about the wine shipping . . ."

As he began to explain how the business worked, he gave thanks that he'd decided to come to San Gabriel himself. He'd wanted an adventure, and he'd found more than he'd dreamed of.

Athena and Will fell behind Sofia and Justin. When they were out of earshot, Will said in a low voice, "Was it my imagination, or did those two both light up like lanterns when they met?"

"Not your imagination," Athena said, her brow furrowed. "I trust Justin Ballard is an honorable man?"

"Without question," Will said as he studied the other couple. "They seem to have skipped friendship and gone straight to flirting."

"Which is as far as they can go." Athena had never seen Sofia react to a man so strongly. Granted, Ballard was very attractive, with the dark hair and suntanned complexion of a Gabrileno, but with bright blue Scottish eyes that sparkled with humor and an air of worldly sophistication.

Still, he could never be a suitable match for the queen of San Gabriel.

Chapter 17.

Athena entered the family sitting room early, and found Will already relaxing there on the sofa while he studied a sheaf of papers. He'd removed his water- and mud-spattered clothes and wore a well-tailored navy blue coat, buff breeches, and polished black boots.

She stopped dead as icy shock jolted through her. He looked too much the fashionable London gentleman. Worse, he was dressed like her father on the one ghastly occasion when they'd met.

Her brief recoil vanished when he looked up and gave his wonderful, warm Will smile to her. He set aside the papers and rose to greet her, so she relaxed and stepped into the sitting room, closing the door behind her. "I'm glad Sofia suggested a small private dinner tonight. I'm not up for a full Oliviera meal, and your friend Mr. Ballard must be even more tired after his trek from Porto."

"Justin has always had excellent stamina." Will gestured toward the papers. "I've been going over the packing lists and he exceeded my expectations."

"I look forward to seeing the lists after dinner." Athena shook her head. "For months, we were barely staying afloat. Now San Gabriel can begin to move forward, thanks to you and Mr. Ballard."

"I look forward to sharing a brandy with him later tonight while we catch up with months of gossip." Will moved across the room toward her, a mischievous light in his gray eyes. "But at the moment, I'm interested in defining 'flirtation.' Does it include a well-mannered kiss?"

"I suppose it would depend on how well-mannered the kiss is," Athena said as she watched him a little warily.

"Very well-mannered indeed." The brush of Will's lips on her left temple was feather soft, but at the same time his arms encircled her with warm thoroughness. "What about hugs? Is a well-mannered hug acceptable as flirting?"

Athena smiled, unable to resist relaxing against his broad, strong body. "Hugs are dangerous territory, but I'm exceptionally fond of them."

She tilted her head against his as tension flowed out of her. He smelled of fresh soap and his own appealing self. Though pa.s.sion could be as close as the next breath if they allowed it, this embrace was pure, simple affection. She'd be happy to be held like this forever.

"I'm liking flirtation," he said thoughtfully as one hand stroked slowly down her spine. "Though I'm unwilling to accept that flirting can never go any further."

Athena was also having some trouble accepting that. At moments like this, it was easy to imagine that there could be more. That they could be more. And yet . . .

She made a face and backed out of his embrace. "It's easier to flirt with a wet, muddy engineer than the rather alarmingly fashionable gentleman I saw when I entered the room," she said with rueful honesty.

"I can take off this well-tailored coat and pour water over my head if that would help," he said earnestly.

She had to laugh. Will was so down-to-earth that it was easy to forget he was a landed gentleman. Though not a peer like her disdainful grandfathers, he could move easily in that level of society. From comments he'd made about highborn friends, she was sure that he did. It was best to enjoy flirtation and not yearn for anything more.

Though when she studied that powerful, masculine body and his laughing eyes, it was impossible not to yearn for more. "I shall forgive you the well-tailored coat, since I'm sure it's an accident that you look fashionable."

"Once, long ago, a valet informed me that it was impossible for a man built like me to look fashionable," he said seriously. "I'm too big. Excessive shoulders, excessive muscles. So I gave up on any thoughts of fashion and now settle for respectable."

"I have no complaints about your size. It's an exotic pleasure for an overly tall female like me to look up at a man," she said mischievously.

"I think you're exactly the right size," he said, a gleam in his eyes. "Deliciously huggable." Fortunately, laughter and footsteps sounded outside the door before Athena could decide whether to step toward him, or back away.

Athena and Will moved apart just before Sofia entered with Justin Ballard right behind her. The two were laughing together and Sofia had a bright happiness in her face that Athena hadn't seen since the French invasion. It was wonderful to see Sofia happy again, but not for a reason that guaranteed pain. Be careful of your heart, little sister.

After greetings all around, Sofia raised a bottle of red wine that she'd brought with her. "Justin kindly did not mention the quality of the sangria this afternoon."

"It was delicious and most welcome," Justin protested.

"But only a barely acceptable table wine underneath the fruit," Sofia said bluntly. "So I brought a wine that better shows what San Gabriel is capable of. Justin, will you open the bottle so it can breathe? It should be ready by the time dinner is served."

Justin obliged with the skill one would expect of an experienced wine merchant. After the cork was removed, he poured a very small amount into a goblet. "Don't drink it yet!" Sofia ordered.

He smiled at her. "I know better than to do that." He swirled the wine in the goblet, then sniffed carefully. "But it does smell most promising."

Two Oliviera girls arrived with trays of food. After laying out bowls and platters on the sideboard, the girls bobbed curtsies and withdrew.

There was a variety of hearty dishes, including dried cod that had been stewed with potatoes and onions, small garlicky sausages, corn bread, chicken with rice, cheese, bean salad, and the inevitable olives. It was peasant food, which was what San Gabriel could afford now, but cooked by a talented royal chef. Everyone attacked the sideboard with enthusiasm, and serving themselves made for an easy atmosphere.

Then Sofia poured the wine, careful not to disturb the sediment on the bottom of the bottle, and everyone paused to watch Justin's reaction. He chuckled. "It's hard to evaluate a wine under such pressure!"

Sofia started to apologize, but he waved off the apology. "Of course tasting it matters. I must be honest, you know. Mere politeness won't do in this case."

"I understand," Sofia said, her gaze unwavering.

He sipped at the wine, tasting it carefully, then drank more, his expression thoughtful. After a deeper swallow, he said, "This is excellent. As good as anything produced in the Douro Valley and with an extra quality all its own. I hope a way can be found to ship it to Porto and beyond."

Sofia and Athena exhaled with relief. The problem of transport was major, but it should be solvable. Now that they knew the valley had the potential for valuable exports, they'd find a way.

Though Gabrilenos usually didn't believe in mixing business with anything as important as dining, all four of them were eager to start planning, so the lists of materials were pa.s.sed around as easily as the wine bottles.

Athena studied the quant.i.ties of new food supplies. Will and his friends had not stinted. "I'll take charge of distributing food, since I learned where supplies were most needed during the winter. I a.s.sume that some of the staples that keep well, like beans and rice and dried cod, will be stored in the refuges, while other foods can go to people who need it now?"

"That was my thought," Will said. "No one should go hungry while waiting for the new season's gardens and crops to ripen."

Sofia nodded approval. "Justin, you and I and Senor da Cunha, the castle wine master, should distribute the vine cuttings. The royal Alcantara vineyards are the largest and suffered the most from the French, but there are many other growers in the valley who also suffered damage."

"Royal Alcantara," Justin said thoughtfully. "That would be an appealing name for the best Gabrileno wines."

Sofia sucked in her breath, her eyes shining. "What a splendid idea! We must use every advantage we have to rebuild San Gabriel."

Blushing under his tan, Justin asked, "How much help will the vineyard owners need with the planting? All the laborers I hired have experience with the vines, and most have other skills as well."

Sofia considered. "All vineyards have family members and often servants who are skilled in working the vines, but the larger farms will need extra help so the work can be done swiftly. I'll ask Senor da Cunha how many laborers are likely to be needed for the plantings. Not all of them, I think."

"I'll need a few of the larger fellows to help tear down the castle barns and prepare the timbers for use in the bridge," Will said. "By the time we're ready to build, more men should be free to help."

Sofia clapped her hands together, so excited she looked ready to bounce up and down in her chair. "In two or three weeks, the vines will be taking root and we will have our bridge! By then, the first garden vegetables will be ready and the town markets can open again. No one need go hungry this coming winter!"

"After the planting and the bridge, we can reopen the wine caverns," Will said. "Justin, I'm tempted to use some of the black powder you brought to blast our way in, but Athena doesn't want to risk ruining the wine."

Justin sat back in his chair, laughing. "Lord Masterson, you look entirely too eager to blow things up. How will you bear the tedium of the House of Lords when you return home?"

The ice Athena had felt when she saw Will as a fashionable gentleman returned a thousandfold. Feeling her blood drain away, she asked carefully, "Lord Masterson?"

"Hasn't he mentioned that?" Justin asked with mild surprise. "He's Major Lord William Masterson, sixth Baron Masterson of Hayden Hall. You are the sixth baron, aren't you, Will? Or is it the fifth?"

"The fifth," Will said, his brow furrowing as he regarded Athena.

Athena took a sip of wine to moisten her dry mouth. "No, you hadn't mentioned that, Lord Masterson."

Catching her gaze, Will said, "Having a t.i.tle isn't something I think much about. It's not the most important thing about me, and completely useless on a battlefield."

"Being Lord Masterson won't stop a bullet," Athena agreed. "But so very useful socially. You are definitely among the grand sheep, not the humble goats."

Feeling ill, she got to her feet. "I'm tired and ready for bed. In the morning, I'll start delivering food where needed. I'll enlist some of the castle servants and perhaps Mercedes da Silva also. She likes riding and people." With a blind nod at Sofia and Justin, she collected a candlestick and opened the door to the corridor.

"Athena!" Will said sharply. Ignoring him, she closed the door and walked swiftly toward her rooms.

He moved faster, tearing through the door and running along the corridor. He caught up with her just before she reached the safety of her rooms. "Athena, please!"

He caught her arm and turned her to face him. In the dim light of her candlestick, his face was worried. "Why are you so upset? I'm no different than I was."

"You are a peer of the realm with a seat in the House of Lords." She wrenched her arm free. "If you enter a room in London, people will whisper that Lord Masterson has arrived. Yes, that Lord Masterson, the military hero. You will be high on any eligibility list of the Marriage Mart. You are likely far wealthier than I realized. You may not have changed, but my perception of you has."

She drew a shuddering breath. "It's time to end the flirtation. You'll finish your work in San Gabriel soon and go back to your real rank and your real life. A life that has nothing to do with me."

He started to reply, then stopped, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. "I can only imagine the pain and persecution you suffered growing up," he said slowly. "Even your mother would not have really understood. Though she chose to live scandalously, she had the confidence that comes with being born Lady Cordelia. You had no such choice, and were condemned to bear the consequences of her actions."

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "You're perceptive, Lord Masterson. I grew up with sneers and insults, both to my face and behind my back. An aristocratic young man was my first and only calf love and eager to kiss me, but he was revolted by the idea that I could ever be anything more to him than a mistress. Those years at a horrible school where I was made to sew a sampler that said that the sins of the mother are visited on the daughter. I was never allowed to forget who or what I was. Never!"

He sucked in his breath. "I hate knowing you had to endure so much condemnation. But being illegitimate doesn't define who you are any more than my having inherited a t.i.tle defines me."

"No? You may have been a lonely little boy until your brother came, but you always knew you were heir to a barony and would someday be a lord yourself. My mother had that aristocratic confidence, and so do you. I do not. I never will."

"You're right," he said, his brow furrowed. "Yes, t.i.tles can be useful. I can give you one. Marry me and you'll be Lady Masterson. Over time, surely that will heal some of the wounds of the past."

She closed her eyes, aching. "Your offer is the greatest honor I've ever received, your lordship, but I must decline. You can't have run into many English women on the Peninsula, so I suppose flirtation was inevitable under these circ.u.mstances. But the novelty of my being English and tall isn't enough. Go back to England and find yourself a lovely, well-born English girl who will be a suitable lady to your lord."

"Your opinion of me is shockingly low," he said tightly. "As is your opinion of yourself. Can't you see me as plain Will Masterson, a competent soldier who likes building things and splashing in the mud, and who thinks you're the most fascinating woman he's ever met?"

She opened her eyes and studied his forceful, handsome face. He was a good man, and she would not be a good woman if she took advantage of his innate decency. "I can't see you as plain anything, my lord. The gap between us is vaster than you can imagine. Return home. Someday soon you'll be grateful that I turned you down."

"Athena, don't throw what we have away!" He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a desperate intensity that incinerated her senses. They'd kissed before, but she'd not felt the full force of the pa.s.sion that lay under his easygoing exterior. For delirious moments she kissed him back, aroused to a madness she'd never known before.

For a wild moment, she was able to convince herself that he was right, that they could join their lives happily ever after. Then the tilting gla.s.s chimney of her forgotten candlestick pitched over and smashed on the floor.

She jerked away from Will, hot wax from the candle burning her hand as she remembered all the reasons they should stay apart. "Do you want to hear the full extent of my shame?" she said in a shaking voice. "My mother wasn't only Lady Delilah. She was also called Lady Wh.o.r.e, and I was Lady Wh.o.r.e's Daughter. Every girl in that h.e.l.lish, sanctimonious school I attended knew, and they weren't ashamed to call me that. None of them ever had their mouths washed out with soap for using that term, either. Because that wasn't bad language, it was truth."

"Dear G.o.d, Athena!" His face was white. "I don't know if it will ever be possible to make up for such abuse, but give me the chance to try!"

She sighed wearily. "I don't doubt your sincerity, but you haven't thought this out. Do you want to hold a ball or a dinner party in London and have the guests refuse to attend so they won't have to be under the same roof with Lady Wh.o.r.e's Daughter? Do you want to have people cluck their tongues and feel pity for you because it's a shame that such a nice, well-liked man married a scheming woman who must be as big a s.l.u.t as her mother? Do you want to have to fight duels to defend my name? Or worse, believe that rumors of my profligate behavior might be true? Do you want your children shadowed by their grandmother's wicked reputation?"