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“Please go, Uncle. I have nothing else to say.”
“I have only tried to help you.”
“That is what you’ve made it look like. But ultimately, you were attempting to help yourself.”
Shelene stood and ran her hand over the dress material to flatten any wrinkles. Francisco stood beside her. She called to her servant. “Sakina? Would you find Brahim, please?”
“Of course,sayidati.” Sakina hurried away, no doubt sensing the rising tension between Shelene and her uncle.
“You are going to have the help remove me from the family home?”
“Oh, no, Uncle. I am going to have the help assist you now so that I will not have to clean up any blood in the morning.”
“I am not afraid of him.”
“There was a time when you were afraid of no one. And yet, here you are hiding at Las Colinas behind your pardon and behind my skirts.”
He lifted his hand and slapped her face. The crack echoed in the portico. Shelene stumbled back one step but kept her feet. She rubbed her hand over her throbbing cheek.
How pathetic that she felt braver now with Roman in Spain than she had felt at any time since he’d sailed away those months ago. The doubts she had remained as unsprouted seeds, but Roman’s return had been the torrential downpour that caused the seeds to spring to life.
“How dare you speak to me that way?” her uncle said.
Brahim’s sandals flapped against the tiles as he approached. “Sayidati, you called?”
“Yes. Señor Belgrano is leaving tonight. Could you make sure his luggage is prepared and escort him to the foyer where he can wait for a carriage? As soon as possible, please.”
Uncle Francisco did not move. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a small over-under double-barrel pistol. Made in France. She knew because it was hers. Uncle had pilfered it from her desk in the library. He pointed it at her. “I am not leaving. And you will inform your husband he is not welcome here. This is the Belgrano home and has been for over a hundred years.”
“You might as well shoot me now, Uncle Francisco. This is my home, and you will leave. If not tonight, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the next day. If not willingly, then by force. You are the one who is no longer welcome here.”
“You think I am not capable of such an act?”
“I think you are not so willing to give up your pardon. Surely, the King of Spain would consider it a personal affront to have one of his subjects killed by a man he’d so recently pardoned. And one of England’s most treasured agents. My servants are listening to your threats, Uncle. They will not remain silent. And they will not forget.” She glanced about to see Brahim, Sakina, two of their sons and five of their grown grandchildren around the portico. They stood like sentinels, protecting her, and she’d never been more grateful.
What she didn’t say was that it was much more likely Roman would kill the man without a second thought. Shelene could not threaten her uncle by invoking Roman’s name. He would welcome such a challenge and might even boast to the king about killing an English spy. For Roman surely was that.
As Uncle Francisco passed her, he said, “You will regret this, my niece.”
“I don’t feel a thing, least of all regret. My blood must be all Belgrano.”
It was no easy thing to cross Francisco Belgrano. One thing was certain: he was not repentant for any of his past mistakes. And nothing with him was as it seemed.Oh, I am so wrong. He is still the despicablecaitiffhe has always been.
