"Did that happen often?"

"No, she always made clear to her lovers that if they wanted to be with her, they must treat me with courtesy and respect. Some of them gave me splendid gifts to curry favor with Delilah." Athena smiled reminiscently. "The best was a beautiful little pony when I was six. I hated saying good-bye to that pony, but we traveled a great deal and seldom stayed anywhere longer than a few months. Delilah always engaged excellent tutors wherever we were, so I learned all kinds of interesting things. How to use firearms because she said a woman must know how to defend herself. She often moved in diplomatic and government circles, so she discussed politics and statecraft with me. If we stayed on someone's estate, she would ask the land steward to explain planting and animal husbandry. It was . . . an unusual way to grow up, but wonderful and exciting." Athena's eyes closed and her voice cracked. "She was everything to me."

Tired of looking up at his companion, Will rose from the bench and took a relaxed position against the stone wall opposite where Athena was standing. "The drawback, surely, was that when you lost her, you had no one else."

Athena opened her eyes and smiled with brittle humor. "You are much cleverer than you look, Will."

He thought a moment. "Should I be insulted?"

Her tension eased into a genuine smile. "I hope you aren't. What I meant was that you look like a solid, unimaginative officer, vastly competent but not . . . not . . ."

"Not very intelligent?" he suggested.

Athena bit her lip as if suppressing laughter. "I would rather end my sentence by saying you don't look particularly imaginative. Or insightful. But you are both."

"Being imaginative, I'm now wondering if one of your mother's wandering amorous adventures brought you to San Gabriel."

"Much cleverer than you look! My mother met Prince Alfonso when he was in London and followed him back here. She was a great favorite with the whole royal family, so we were welcome to stay even when the affair burned out. We lived here long enough for me to learn the language and make friends, and visited again later. I was told to call the king and queen Uncle Carlos and Aunt Isabella. She and the king had lively discussion about how to run a small country, and she let me sit in when they did. That proved really useful when I ended up being an advisor to Sofia."

"Which is why Prince Alfonso confuses you with Lady Delilah. Is San Gabriel as much of a home as you've ever had?"

Athena's brow furrowed. "I suppose it is. The longest I've ever spent anywhere else was in school, and I hated the place."

Since it didn't sound as if Delilah would have put her in a hateful school, Will asked, "Were you sent there after your mother died?"

Athena nodded and began pacing again. "I was fourteen. Delilah was very ill and she explained to me that she was dying, so she must put me under my father's protection. I was devastated, of course." Her paces tightened to swift, tense steps. "She took me to my father's family seat and marched in with me beside her. He was furious and horrified, yet I could see that he also still desired her."

Will frowned, imagining what such a meeting must have been like for Athena. "It doesn't sound like a scene that any fourteen-year-old should have to witness."

Athena sighed. "I needed to be there, if only to meet my father for the first and last time. Delilah told him that I was a good, intelligent, obedient girl who would be a credit to him."

"Were you obedient?" Will asked with mild surprise.

She shrugged. "When I wanted to be. Not that it mattered what she said about me. My father was revolted by my existence, but apparently the resemblance to his legitimate children was strong enough that he couldn't deny fathering me, particularly since he'd known of my existence since Delilah first found herself increasing. He snarled that I would be cared for and slammed out of the room."

"My father was not an easy man, but he was a saint by comparison," Will said sympathetically. "Your father sounds appalling."

"Based on our very brief acquaintance, that's an accurate description. But he did fulfill his word to see that I was cared for."

"And your mother trusted him enough to know that he would. That's an interesting point."

"Yes, it is." Athena looked thoughtful. "He's an English gentleman who prides himself on behaving honorably, though I doubt if you'd agree with his definition of 'honorable.' He was so rich that supporting one schoolgirl was nothing to him, but he could have sent me to a workhouse rather than fulfilling his responsibilities. So he could have been worse."

"Yet he did send you to a school you hated."

She grimaced. "It was a grim girls' school in a ramshackle manor house by the Irish Sea. The icy winter drafts would blow papers off a desk. The headmistress followed that fine Christian dictum that sparing the rod would spoil the child. All the students hated the place, so I became a convenient target for malice because of being a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Too tall, too different, and far too illegitimate. I developed a truly intimidating glare when other girls went too far, and I studied a lot, which kept me busy and improved my mind."

Will winced as he imagined years of living in such a place. "Was your father deliberately trying to punish you for existing?"

"I don't know. Probably he didn't care where I went as long as it was out of his sight. He might have specified a very strict school to counter the wild tendencies I must have inherited from Delilah."

Even at fourteen, she would have been independent and ingenious. Will asked, "Did you ever try to escape from the school?"

"I thought about it." A faint smile flickered over her lips. "I really thought about it. But I had no place to go in England, and no money. I couldn't possibly have made it here to San Gabriel, the only place likely to welcome me. So I endured."

"Were you ever told what your future held?"

"The solicitor who took me to the school said I would be there until I was eighteen, at which point I could leave and I would be granted a modest but adequate quarterly allowance on the condition that I never tell anyone I was related to my father's family. Delilah and I had used the name Markham, which was in her family several generations back. There was no obvious connection to my father's family, so I was able to continue using the name. Generous of him, wasn't it?"

Will suppressed a strong urge to find out who her father was so the man could be throttled. "Your father should have been whipped!"

"Members of the House of Lords wield the whips," she said dryly. "They don't suffer under them. You can see why I am not fond of peers of the realm. Both my grandfathers were lords. The one on my mother's side I never met at all."

As a member of the House of Lords himself, Will said, "Not all lords are so dreadful. I went to school with some who are very good fellows."

"Then I hope they treat their b.a.s.t.a.r.d descendants better than my grandfathers did. Your own brother would not have fared well if not for you. But enough of that." Athena made a dismissive gesture. "It's time for you to bare your soul and do some more suffering. What are the three worst things that have happened to you? The loss of your wife is surely on the list. What about the loss of your mother? Your father?"

She was right. The knife cut both ways, and it was time for him to speak of things he had long buried. "The siege of Badajoz would make the list of most dreadful things for anyone who was there, but that's a broadly shared horror. Perhaps we need a separate category for such terrors? Having lived here for the war years, surely you have similar memories."

She made a face. "None so bad as Badajoz, but bad enough. Another day, perhaps. I'm more interested in what personal trials have tempered you."

"I dislike ranking tragedies," he said slowly. "Losing Lily and our son was certainly the first great tragedy of my life, and the event that most changed my life, because if she hadn't died, I never would have joined the army."

"Living in England and raising a family would have been such a very different path from the one you're on," she mused, her gaze a.s.sessing. "I've heard the tales of mud and slaughter and horror. The Peninsular Wars have been brutal. Do you regret walking this path?"

He'd not really thought of his life in terms of the path taken versus the one ended by tragedy. "I do not regret the army," he said, his brow furrowed. "I feel as if I've contributed to a worthy goal, and I have made strong friendships. But I'm ready for a change. The peacetime army would be deucedly boring."

"Then it's good you're on your way home." She c.o.c.ked her head to one side. "What is another of your worst experiences?"

"When I read the news that my brother, Mac, had died in London." Will halted, remembering the numbness that dissolved into a tidal wave of pain when he'd read the fatal words. "I was visiting my friend Ballard in Porto on the way home to England when I saw the notice of Mac's death in a London newspaper that had just arrived."

"I'm so sorry!" she said, her golden hazel eyes warm with compa.s.sion. Then her brow furrowed. "From the way you spoke of him, I thought he was still alive?"

"He is. His death was misreported, and finding him alive when I returned to England was the greatest happiness of my life," Will said simply. "That didn't mean my grief hadn't happened, but at least it ended quickly."

"Tragedies with happy endings are the best kind, but sadly rare." Athena looked a little wistful before continuing. "What else would you put on your painful experiences list? The deaths of your parents?"

He sighed. "Neither of their deaths caused me more than a brief, dutiful twinge of regret. I didn't really miss them when they were gone because I didn't see a great deal of either. My mother was frail and my father was busy with his own interests. He had a reliable heir, but he wasn't much interested in me as an individual."

"That is a tragedy of another sort, but I do understand. If I someday hear that my father has died, I would feel nothing because I didn't know him." Her voice turned dry. "At least I knew nothing good of him. It's possible his legitimate children adore him."

"Equally possible they don't, since he sounds like an unpleasant fellow." A thought struck Will. "Would you like to meet other members of your parents' families? Surely, they aren't all bigots. Your half brothers and sisters must be around your age, and perhaps you have cousins on your mother's side. They might like to know you."

"No!" Athena said sharply. "I don't need more people who wish I had never been born." She reached for her hat, which she'd hung on one end of the bench. "I think we've had quite enough harrowing questioning for one day. Do you really think there is value to this mutual baring of souls?"

He studied her face, seeing a strong, capable woman who had learned to play the difficult cards life had dealt her. But in her eyes were shadows of the injured child she had been, and that vulnerability called to him powerfully. "Yes, there is value. I feel I know you much better than I did when we stopped here to eat, and I'm glad for that. But I realize you might not feel the same." He smiled ruefully. "I'm rather afraid to ask."

She bit her lip as she stared back. "I do know you better, and . . . I think I'm glad of that even if we can never be more than friends."

He thought of saying that whether they might be more than friends remained to be seen, but he didn't want her to retreat. Instead, he said, "Surely, friends can hug each other." He stepped forward and drew here into a gentle embrace.

She stiffened for a moment, then exhaled and relaxed into his arms. She was lean strength and soft, feminine curves, and she fit against him perfectly. "A hug is a very fine thing," she murmured. "You're a very good size for hugging."

"My thoughts exactly. If I were to kiss you, I don't think I'd have to bend over much at all." He demonstrated, and her lips were soft and willing under his.

He was not surprised when pa.s.sion stirred, and he was prepared to tamp it down. Only a fool wouldn't recognize that Athena would need a gentle wooing. She was rare and special, unlike any woman he'd ever met, and the real surprise was the sense of peace he felt in her arms, as powerful as pa.s.sion.

Already he was thinking of that forbidden fifth category of marriage. And if it took time to bring her around to his way of thinking-well, he was a patient man. For now it was enough to be holding her.

Eventually she sighed and stepped away. Gently, to indicate that she was not regretting that quiet kiss. "Now what, Major Masterson?"

She used his rank to distance herself, but her hazel eyes were molten gold when Will smiled down into them. "We finish our tour of San Gabriel and return to Castelo Blanco, where we will discuss my suggestions with Princess Sofia. If she agrees . . ."

"She will," Athena a.s.sured him. "She will probably fall on her knees and offer up prayers of thanks."

"That will not be necessary," he said firmly. "a.s.suming she agrees, I will write a letter this evening to Justin Ballard in Porto and tell him what we need-and the sooner, the better." Will laughed, happy with the world and the future. "And then, my dear girl, I will build you a bridge."

Chapter 11.

As Athena and Will rode toward the site of the blocked wine storage caves, her tension gradually eased. Their unnervingly intimate discussion made her worried about what he'd ask next. But he'd reverted to his usual calm as he continued his evaluation of what needed to be done.

For a man who was so direct, the major was something of an enigma. Or possibly he was a puzzle that she was reluctantly drawn to solve. His interest in her was flattering, though she still couldn't imagine a future beyond friendship with him. She might fit with Will, but she doubted his neighbors would take to a wife as odd as she was.

And yet . . . the physical attraction was undeniable. She loved being held by him, loved his kisses, and couldn't deny that those searching questions had created a sense of closeness. What to do about the attraction and that alarming closeness were the difficult questions.

The road that led to the wine storage caverns ended in a mound of dirt and stone from the landslide Athena and Sofia had created to prevent the French from pillaging the wine vaults. As they reined in their horses, Athena said, "Here we are at the scene of the crime. I'm not sure how much will have to be excavated. Between thirty and forty feet, perhaps? I don't think it's an impossible task, but the French didn't have the time to do it, and after they left, we didn't have the labor."

Will studied the sloping ma.s.s of rubble. "Does this road run right to the entrance of one of the caverns, so we'll know where to dig?"

"As I recall, the road goes to the mouth of the smaller cave, then turns to the right and runs along the hill to the larger one, which is about a hundred feet to the right. One of the vintners can confirm that. The vaults are right next to each because the hillside was particularly suitable here, I'm told."

"This will have to be excavated like a mine shaft." He frowned. "Getting enough wood to sh.o.r.e the tunnel up will be a challenge. A pity I can't just blast all this away, but that would cause an even worse landslide."

"Not to mention the likelihood of destroying the wine." Athena thought for a moment. "You might be able to find some usable wood higher up in the streams that flow into the river. Branches and sometimes even trees get tangled up there in the winter rains. People collect the usable pieces in the spring, but I don't think much of that was done this year, so there might be some good wood."

"Worth investigating. There probably wouldn't be many long tree trunks that would work for the bridge, but shorter pieces will do for shoring up a tunnel."

Athena glanced at the sun's position. "It's time to head back to the castle."

Will gathered his reins, but his frowning gaze remained on the landslide. Under his breath, he murmured, "'By the p.r.i.c.king of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'"

The quote from Macbeth made Athena feel as if chilled fingers had touched her nape. "Would you care to expand on that comment, Major?"

He turned to her, his expression sober. "Soldiers who survive long in the field develop a kind of sixth sense about possible danger. Last night we discussed the fact that San Gabriel could be very vulnerable to attack by bands of dispossessed soldiers or guerillas. As we've traveled through the valley, that itchy feeling of possible danger has been getting stronger."

Athena bit her lip, wishing she could believe he was just overcautious, but she couldn't. Her own instincts had also been twitching. "What do you propose we do?"

"I have some ideas." He turned his horse and started down the road. "This evening I'd like to have a meeting with you, Princess Maria Sofia, the senior Olivieras plus Gilberto, and my batman, Tom Murphy, to discuss my concerns and see what they have to say. Will that be possible?"

She nodded. "Everyone will be eager to come, particularly Sofia. We all know our situation is difficult. The ideas and help you're offering are a blessing."

"Good. It's Sofia's country, after all. I'm just pa.s.sing through with no authority here," Will said. "Even though she's too young to take the throne, from what you say, the Gabrilenos will listen to her?"

"They will," Athena a.s.sured him. It felt good to be making plans instead of just barely managing to hold the situation together. And Major William Masterson seemed like a man who could get things done.

Athena set the meeting time for after dinner, and everyone gathered in the family sitting room of the castle. Athena started by saying simply, "Major Masterson has spent the day touring the valley and he has some thoughts about how we might proceed."

Pet.i.te, dark-haired Sofia looked regal as she said, "I'm very anxious to hear any ideas you might have, Major."

"For the short period of time the French were here, they did a lot of damage," Will said. "Basic repairs like the main bridge over the river and the gristmills aren't too complicated if there are the right materials and enough labor. I can order nails and other hardware from Porto.

"Also, Lady Athena says you need vine cuttings and seeds for planting. Those can be ordered, along with some basic food supplies like beans and dried cod to get people through the summer." He glanced at Senora Oliviera. "I suspect you have the best idea of what is needed in the way of foodstuffs?"

Expression relieved, the older woman said, "I shall write down what is needed. Supplies have, indeed, been scarce."

"I'd also like to hire several dozen laborers to work at whatever needs doing," Will said. "Not only for rebuilding but the farm work as well. My friend Justin Ballard in Porto will be able to purchase what is required and hire good men and send them all up here."

"Of the port shipping family?" Sofia asked. When Will nodded, she said bluntly, "The House of Ballard has a good reputation and we need men and materials, but we have no way to pay for them."

Will smiled. "I'll cover the initial costs, then make the British government reimburse me. The government does want to help San Gabriel, and this will be much faster than requisitioning materials through channels."

Sofia glanced at Athena, who guessed that the princess had made the same deduction Athena had: Will would find it difficult and perhaps impossible to be reimbursed by the British. If the issue was personal, Sofia would have rejected charity, but as a young ruler, she was learning pragmatism. "We would appreciate that very much, Major."

"Then I'll draw up a list of what is needed. Sergeant Murphy, you'll leave for Porto in the morning to deliver the message to Ballard. Then you can stay and escort everything and everyone back."

"Yes, sir. I'll be back here sooner than you think possible," Murphy said.

"Let us move on to the ever-popular subject of wine," Will said. "And other matters agricultural."

That produced smiles, and a discussion of his proposals to import vine cuttings, reopen the wine caverns, and possibly survey whether the San Gabriel River could be made navigable. Senor Oliviera had vast knowledge of every aspect of San Gabriel, and he partic.i.p.ated enthusiastically.

Athena admired how Will ran the meeting, encouraging suggestions, proposing compromises, and quietly building a sense of excitement and possibilities.

After general plans had been agreed upon, Will said gravely, "I have another topic, and this one is military. The valley is vulnerable to roving groups of bandits even more undisciplined than Baudin's forces were. The situation will be much better when Colonel da Silva returns with the rest of the Gabrileno troops, but I think it would be wise if plans are put into place now to protect people and property and to resist marauders."

Gilberto frowned. "I talked with several of my men today. Growing up, we all believed San Gabriel to be safe from war in our mountains. Now we know better. If that French pig of a general could attack, so can others. We talked of organizing many small militias, perhaps a dozen or so men who live close to each other. And we could do more with the warning system of the bells."

"We need to practice our emergency drills," Sofia said firmly. "The ones that we had helped to save many Gabrilenos when Baudin invaded, but more sanctuaries are needed, for not everyone is close to a cave. There are many large-walled homes scattered across the country. They can become refuges in emergencies."

Senor Oliviera nodded. "We will organize small defense precincts and talk to your caballeros, Gilberto. Drills and plans stave off panic when disaster strikes."