Fromtheshadowsofthe grand staircase, Pedro tracked the guests' progress. Like a tide, they floated from the open doorway, dressed in their finery, their eyes admiring Quinta do Salgueiro’s ballroom. More than the Gobelins, Sèvres, and priceless works of art, Pedro had the impression their gazes lingered over the subtle pieces of evidence that his house had a countess. Roses in every vase, music spilling from the gallery, a scent of beeswax floating with the breeze. Windows opened to catch the sunset.
Not a single space left for shadows.
Pedro stifled his irritation at having guests after only three months of their wedding. He had to share her with the world. At least a few hours of her time. Braganza's cause justified it. Anne had arranged everything, down to the miniature pastries she served with port.
The only detail missing was his countess.
Minutes ticked by, and Pedro turned to the stairs.
Julia and Maxwell mingled with the other guests. His new sister and brother had arrived that morning. Julia had delivered a healthy baby girl, as her fuller figure could well attest. Pedro’s regard hadn't changed since he’d first met her by the river. Seeing her happy, her face glowing with health, brought him pleasure. What had guided his entire life for ten years was love, but not the same love he felt for Anne. His feelings were brotherly tenderness.
Fitting that they had become siblings in the eyes of God.
For Maxwell, the only emotions left were a mild annoyance and a grudging admiration. Anne loved him, and Pedro would tolerate him on her behalf. On preset dates, not exceeding four times a year.
Cris would laugh at the turnabout of his feelings. Where was he? Probably some shady place, doing Saint George knew what. As long as he didn't get himself killed.
Laughter tinkled four paces from him. No doubt Henrique had made a joke, entertaining the small group. Pedro looked as pleasure softened their features. Their postures were open. They felt safe here, in his residence. Pedro could be a part of it.
With a pang of surprise, he realized he wanted to.
Pedro approached them with a genuine smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His new in-laws noticed his presence at once, Julia with pleasure shining in her black eyes, Maxwell with a tick in his jaw.
Julia kissed his cheek. "The decoration is lovely, but I must say, I'm thrilled you rebuilt the vineyards."
"You must congratulate my countess. Hers is all the credit." Pedro glanced at the stairs again.
"Where is my sister, by the way?" Maxwell shook Pedro’s hand with jerky movements.
"My wife will be here shortly. I hope you had a chance to ride Sarpedon?"
Maxwell flushed behind his beard and grumbled, "You didn't have to give me a horse, Almoster."
Julia cleared her throat and linked her arm to Maxwell's. "My dear husband means to say he appreciates the gift and accepts it gracefully."
Pedro shrugged. "Since you have embraced Portugal as your home, you might as well ride a Lusitano and not that British horse of yours."
"My thoroughbred is the finest specimen—"
Henrique cut Maxwell's diatribe and kissed Julia's hand, smiling seductively. "Darling, you should wear red more often."
Maxwell forgot the horse, and Pedro enjoyed seeing him flustered. Was Pedro as ridiculous when he was jealous of Anne?
Henrique ignored Maxwell's murderous stare and turned to Pedro. "Congratulations on your ministry appointment. With the extra ships patrolling the colonies, slave trading will soon reach its doom."
Pedro inclined his head. "It should've been done a long time ago."
"You are right. But you are the first Foreign Minister with the guts to defy the criminals."
The clock tolled the tenth hour. Pedro's eyes magnetized to the gallery. Anne floated down the grand stair, her gloved hand skimming the balustrade. Her gown swirled like a cloud, the transparency revealing her collarbone and rounded shoulders. A princess-like skirt flowed to the floor, and the silver thread sparkled with the chandelier light.
Conversations halted, and a murmur of admiration swept through the guests.
Pedro strode in her direction. People called to him, smiling in greeting, but he had eyes only for Anne. He met her at the stairs landing and bowed. "You took too long."
Her eyes widened like they always did when faced with the intensity of his desire. "I'm sorry to have—"
"You are stunning." He bent his head and gave her a chaste kiss below the crevice of her cheek. "I will enjoy peeling away every stitch later."
