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“He is a fair man. He would not have been so moved by your tainted words.”
“What is your goal here? Shelene might have welcomed you and Hightower might allow you to stay, but long term, I can’t help but believe you have other plans, and this is only a short stop.”
“Las Colinas is my family home. I was born here.”
“I can see that you die here.”
Belgrano smiled. “You would cause more heartache for your wife? Your son?”
“I want you gone in the next thirty days.”
He clucked his tongue. “You have no say here. You cannot touch me in any way.”
Roman leaned forward and braced his arms against the table. “I know you. I’ve known countless men like you. Once someone stronger pushes back, you run and hide. Courage isn’t your strong suit. Intimidation is. And you have never intimidated me.”
“Ah, this food satisfies every dream I’ve had in the last two years,” Hightower said as he returned to the table and took his seat. “Where were we?”
“I was just telling Señor Forrester how very welcoming my niece has been and how moved I am to be in the family home once again,” Belgrano said.
“It will be with immense joy that I renew my acquaintance with this wonderful land. Shelene and her mother were upset with me for moving them to England those years ago. By Las Colinas’ prosperity, I can see that I was wrong to do so,” Hightower said.
Roman ate while the two of them talked. There was no reason for Belgrano to be here since he would never inherit the property with the line established by his father. It was Hightower’s estate now, held in trust for his daughter. He would leave it to Shelene. She would leave it to Antonio or their oldest daughter. Roman was well aware of the matriarchal nature of the Belgrano estate heritage, and it was part of the reason he built another home—for sons they might have. Why hadn’t Shelene’s grandfather planned better for his son? Roman had never asked.
Belgrano was a vicious, unpredictable man. But in one way, he was completely reliable. Everything he did, he did for himself.
“I’ll be leaving this afternoon for Malaga. Business, you understand. I should be home in four or five days. A week at the latest.”
“Home? I don’t think anyone would miss you if you stayed away longer,” Roman said. “Or forever.”
“I am so happy you two have reached a peaceable impasse,” Hightower said.
“The king has shown me how to be diplomatic when I would rather be recklessly vindictive. I’ll be meeting him again in a month. An invitation to Madrid.”
“Oh, so the gossip about Rafael del Riego isn’t true? Would King Ferdinand wonder who was supporting the opposition? Who would the king believe if I brought him evidence of subterfuge?”
“Napoleon is dead. Leave Spanish problems to the Spanish. If you will excuse me,” Belgrano said, leaving the table. That was true, but that didn’t mean all the trouble surrounding Napoleon Bonaparte or his brother left Spain unscathed or without deep resentments and scores to settle.
Roman’s attention turned to his food again while his thoughts churned on all the possibilities—none of which boded well for the inhabitants of Las Colinas or the valley.
“You might have dazzled your wife if you had dressed in your best,” Hightower said.
Roman glanced down, knowing he was nothing more than shabby. He’d always traveled light. One valise, a few personal items, two or three sets of clothes. And a more proper wardrobe at a few crucial places where he regularly laid his head: in Paris, in Rome, in Amsterdam. This time he’d worn his threads to threads. “Thisismy best. I have you and Oliver to thank for that.”
“Maybe you should do something about that. My daughter is not known for her love of slovenly men,” Hightower said. He was dressed in a style that was neither English nor Spanish, but rather militarized with a navy-blue jacket, tan trousers and a dazzling array of brass buttons. Hightower had only mentioned it once, but there would never been any more awards pinned to his uniform as they had all gone down with theHMS Victorious.
“I didn’t have a bureau full of clothes waiting for me. Give me time and I will. There just seems to be a few more urgent matters to attend. Your brother-in-law chief amongst them.”
“That is the thing about Francisco. He will never hide his deeds for long. He wants people to know who and what he is. He wants people to be afraid of him. I am surprised I have to tell you, of all people, this immutable fact.”
“Perhaps I am a little out of practice having spent so much time wondering the Pampas of Argentina looking for you and Oliver.”
“You know I enjoy giving advice.”
“I’m fast learning.”
“My advice is to forget him for the time being. Your wife and son should be your priorities. That and a new wardrobe.”
“He’s up to something, Commodore. By making Belgrano my immediate priority, I am prioritizing and protecting my family.”
