"What is he doing here?"
"Priapus? I guess Canastra must be having problems with his male potency—"
"I mean Mr. Whitaker!" she cried out.
"Yes, of course. He must have come to spread his body fluids in Spain. Who knows what sort of depravity he has in store under his flaming hair? The risk to Lady Dolores's reputation is immense." Henrique tapped Priapus's shriveled head. "As soon as we find the letters, we better leave Comillas."
Isabel stilled, narrowing her eyes. She didn't mention Dolly's infatuation to Henrique, and she could bet Dolly didn't speak of it either.
With a jerk, she closed the draperies. "My duty here is not over, but I can certainly send Dolly back to her father."
"Damn it, Isabel. I have a life. I—"
"Have you summoned Charles? To force my hand? Well, your efforts were pointless. I won't leave. But it's no longer safe for Dolly. I will inform her to pack her suitcases." Isabel shook her head. His selfishness knew no bounds.
"What are you, a schoolmaster? Let Dolly and Charles know each other, see if they suit."
"Charles will ruin Dolly."
Henrique clicked his tongue and stared at the indecent figure in his hands. "Did you hear it, Priapus? Ruin her? I'm not privy to Mr. Whitaker's staff, but if anyone could ruin a female, you are the fellow to do it with your mighty sword."
Isabel could not help it. Her eyes went to the statue's male appendage, and heat flooded her cheeks. "You would go to any length to shock me, would you not?"
"Length is indeed the point here." A satirical grin lifted his lips. "Why so bashful, Isabel? Every living creature with carbon in its composition and genitalia in its body does it. The bees do it. The birds and the trees do it. The horses and the hounds do it. Goats do it, and so do queens and little princesses."
Isabel gripped her skirts, crumpling the velvet. "If you have no respect for a lady's virtue, our conversation is over."
"My fiery princess, a maidenhead is only a membrane. I don't understand how losing it can be ruinous."
He robbed her of words. How easy for a rake like him to scoff over morality. While he lived in good society, enjoying all the benefits and none of the obligations, women had to conform or accept ostracism.
Tapping his chin, he addressed the dwarf. "If women were born without maidenheads, think of the fun—"
"Keep your sinful musings to yourself." She sucked in a breath. "My concern is Lady Dolores and Charles Whitaker—"
"Of course, the two lovebirds." Henrique brought the statue an inch from her face. "Priapus will help them tie their knots."
Isabel yanked it from his hands. "He will not!" She curled her fingers around the oversized genitalia and wrenched it. The old wood splintered. Jutting her chin forward, she gave him a smug look.
Henrique's hand went to his groin, and he stepped back. "What if Dolly is in love with him?"
"I know she is. A girlish, innocent, idiotic love." She punctuated each word by tapping Henrique's chest. "Why else would a young lady encourage Mr. Whitaker's attention?"
"Can you stop hitting me with Priapus' cock? It's unladylike."
"What?" She opened her hand and stared at the brownish stick. "Ew, Ew, what should I do with it?"
"The wooden or the real one?" He winked.
Glaring, Isabel shoved Priapus and his torn appendage into a shadowy perch where it could not cause mischief and cleaned her hands in her skirts.
"Look. Charles loves her. His intentions are noble. He wants to marry the chatter chit."
"He is a rake and a drunkard."
"He has not drunk since he met her. He changed."
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I hardly believe such to be possible."
