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“Yes, that might be best. Commodore, are you in a hurry to travel on or can you wait overnight? A good night’s sleep and some regular fare might do us all some good, in order to present our best when we arrive at theestancia.”
Hightower stood with his hands behind his back and lips pursed. “We will be at the estate tomorrow night. I don’t see a problem. And I agree with Oliver. I’m ready for some freshchorizoandjamón.”
“And a cool mug ofcerveza,” Roman added.
“Empanadas,” Hightower added, and wiped his hand over his mouth. “Yes, we must have some solid Spanish food before we endeavor to move another inch.”
“And a bath that doesn’t involve saltwater,” Oliver added.
The carriage arrived, the baggage was loaded then they were off within minutes. Hightower directed the driver to take them to the Dominican friar’s convent where there was also a hospice. Roman could appreciate his father-in-law’s concern for Oliver. They had been shipmates for many, many years and Roman guessed neither of them would have survived without the other.
Perhaps they had even survivedforthe other. The two had spent every day of the last three years together. Roman could almost be jealous of the fatherly manner in which Hightower treated Oliver.
“Will you stay in Spain? Or return to England for a new assignment, do you think?” Roman asked, as he bumped shoulders with Hightower. Joaquin had jumped to the top of the carriage and rode with the driver.
“A mutiny can destroy one’s confidence. I am at an age where I would enjoy sitting in the sun, sipping ale and entertaining a grandson upon my knee. No, I will resign my commission at the earliest opportunity.”
“Shelene will be happy to have you home,” Roman said.
“You say nothing of your own happiness.”
“There is no other woman for me but Shelene. I think you know that sort of happiness cannot be measured in the feelings of a single moment, such as this one.”
“If yours is the happiness by which all others are measured, I fear no one would ever marry again.”
Roman laughed. “I take all the blame. I am exhausted, Commodore. I am relieved yet anxious; determined yet cowardly. I fear what waits me with Shelene more than I feared confirming you and Oliver had really died.”
“Then you shouldn’t have searched for us, given her importance to you.”
“Who else would have searched for the truth? Who better equipped? Were you to die in the wilds of Argentina just so I could be comfortable in Shelene’s arms? I am not made that way.” He glanced across the tightly packed carriage to see Oliver snuggled in the corner, his eyes closed. Mrs. Spencer minded her own business and stared out the carriage window.
“You two. Steel battling iron. It is too late, of course, but might I suggest you should have waited to marry?”
“You know that was impossible. I have explained it to you and yet all these months later, I almost,almostwish that I had not. Shelene has always been the captain of my ship. Keeping it upright even when we were apart. Whatever she thinks now… Whatever we must endure will be in the face of the marital mutiny in which I have participated, in my determination to search for the truth.”
“I promise I won’t say a word,” Hightower said. “Ah, here we are.”
They settled and bathed. Roman had written a few letters while on the ship and he arranged to mail them. One, to his solicitor, Mr. Fisk, and another to England, to his older brother. Roman shared the news about Oliver and mentioned that his return would be delayed while he further recuperated in the sun and warmth of Spain.
It was a joyful evening, laughing and reliving their trip over the generous portions of fresh meat, aged wine, seasonal vegetables and fruits. And friends. The relief of being home with feet on solid ground. The happiness that Hightower and Oliver were alive, if not a little broken. In spite of Roman’s weariness, the indescribable jubilance that he would see Shelene tomorrow. It was the best of days.
And that tonight would be the last night he would ever be parted from her again.
* * * * *
Thepabellónshimmered with the lights of a thousand candles if Shelene could believe the exclamations of Tía Ana-María and Martina. Sakina had whispered to her that it was only four hundred. For two weeks, the entire household had been busy preparing for the celebration of the year, which would occur before the event of the year tomorrow. Around ten.
Tonight, there would be a magnificent feast along with several hours of music and dance. The best that the Belgrano estate could afford. The best many had experienced since before the war years.
Being the family matriarch had come naturally after all. Shelene’s expression bore the serene look of a woman in charge. Confident, happy, prepared. She was none of those things. The stream of events had whisked her along to this night. A house full of family, friends and important dignitaries from around the region. Some would stay for a few nights. Others, like her distance cousins, a week or so.
Shelene just wanted it over.
Martina hurried into the hallway. “Come. It is time to dress. Guests are already arriving.”
“They’ve been arriving for the last five days. I’m sure they can wait an additional thirty minutes before I make a grand entrance in a dress they have never seen. Besides, I want to spend some time with Antonio before I dress.”
“I am sure he is anxious to see you, as well.”
