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“But you are strong, Leona,” Luz Alana insisted, reaching for her hand. “You are strong, and you are brilliant. I am not saying you need to give up your comforts. I am not even asking you not to enjoy your freedom while you are here. I just wish you had something to fall back on. I want you to be all right.”
“And I love you both for it,” she said sincerely. She knew that unlike her parents, these two women truly only wanted what was best for her. “Right now all I need is for both of you to not judge me.”
“Oh, all right. Why does everything with you two need to end in tears?” Aurora protested, reaching for Manuela’s other hand. “I should know better than to think either of you will listen to any of my extremely reasonable advice.”
“We listen when it doesn’t actively interfere with what we want to do,” Manuela quipped, then smiled when she saw Luz Alana cover her mouth to hide her own smirk. Soon she found herself engulfed in a six-limbed embrace, receiving exactly what she’d asked for.
“Can we go out now?” she asked, her voice muffled. “I’ve lost sight of the duchess for too long as it is.” They let go of each other after a moment, and without words their bond was restored. Their pride as strong as ever.
“Ay, there goes another one of the shippers I must talk to,” Luz Alana yelped, already stepping out from behind their curtain. She blew them both kisses as she rushed out into the fray.
“But we were still talking!” Aurora protested, but Luz Alana was already a dozen yards away, pulling one of her business cards from the bodice of her dress. “Why was I cursed with the most stubborn and outrageous friends in the world?” For all her claims of being the most practical one, Aurora could be quite melodramatic.
“Because if not, you would never have any fun and would spend your days elbow-deep in placenta or whatever it is you do at those clinics,” Manuela teased. “Come on, enough blustering over potted palms.” She tugged a very stiff Aurora back out into the light and was smoothing her skirts with one hand when she heard a surprised squeak.
“What?” Manuela popped her head up and saw the cause of Aurora’s distress call. The Duchess of Sundridge and her son were headed in their direction.
The noise of the room melted away as her heart began a concerning staccato against her chest. “Act like I’ve just said something funny,” she urged, smiling madly at Aurora, who looked even more confused than she’d been a moment ago.
“What in the world is the matter with you, Manuela del Carmen? Estas loca?”
“Do it, Aurora,” she insisted through gritted teeth as she patted her friend on the arm and threw her head back in silent laughter. “She’s on her way here.” Manuela snapped her fan open and began to flutter it in front of her face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Aurora muttered. “You are usually so calm and aloof when men show any interest in you.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Manuela told her friend, her attention fixed on the duchess who was headed straight to them.
“Señorita Caceres Galvan, our paths cross yet again,” she said in that low, husky voice of hers. There was a mild tone of accusation, which Manuela would’ve taken more to heart had she not noticed the way the duchess’s gaze swept over her generously deep décolletage with undisguised interest.
“Your Grace.” She bowed her head slightly, but her eyes locked with those piercing violet ones. “I thought you’d be home drawing up an ironclad agreement for me to sign.” She paired the barb with a flutter of her eyelashes. She was still applying herself to the art of ocular flirtation when the duchess pulled something out of her pocket.
“I had to make sure I returned this,” the duchess teased, as she handed Manuela the glove she’d left at the restaurant. Manuela reached for it, shivering as their fingers brushed.
“How kind of you,” she said as her voice dropped to a rough whisper. Since she’d left Au Rocher de Cancale, Manuela had been unsure of what footing she’d been on with the woman. She was certain her land was something Cora wanted very much, but she was not quite as sure how the woman felt about her. “I am grateful to you, Your Grace.” As she slid the glove into a small pocket of her skirt, the floor under her feet seemed much sturdier. Because the duchess hadn’t known Manuela would be here tonight, but she’d kept her glove.
That had to mean something.
A sharp pinch on her side broke her concentration. Right, introductions. How was she expected to observe the rules of etiquette at a moment like this?
“This is my dear friend, Doctor Aurora Montalban Wright. She’s a physician in Mexico.”
“Duchess,” Aurora automatically said, curtsying with such grace and aplomb one would never imagine she’d waxed on about the abomination that was the European aristocracy just that morning.
“Mucho gusto, Doctora,” the duchess responded in Spanish, making Aurora’s form falter and Manuela gasp loudly. “A practicing woman physician. You must be very tenacious.”
“You speak Spanish?” The astonished question was out of Manuela’s mouth before she could stop it. “You could’ve said so during our lunch.” She wasn’t certain why this seemed like an egregious detail for the duchess to have kept from her. Cora, on her end, appeared quite pleased with herself.
“Are you Spanish?” Aurora asked, as she looked between Manuela and the duchess.
“Chilena, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventeen,” she explained, smiling placidly at Aurora, then sending a much more incendiary look Manuela’s way. “My father was American, but my mother was from Iquique, close to where he had his mines.” Her explanation seemed a bit stilted, as if she was unaccustomed to speaking about herself. “I’ve lived outside of Chile almost as long as I lived in it. Paris has been our home for almost a decade now. We came here after my husband, the late duke, passed away.” A flash of pain passed through her eyes at the mention of her spouse. Even in the short time she’d known the duchess, she suspected that fleeting vulnerability was rare. She was also intrigued about her relationship with the duke. “This is my son, the Duke of Sundridge,” she explained, bestowing a look of naked affection to her handsome companion.
“Stepson, and please call me Alfred.”
Stepson.The relief Manuela felt at that word was enough to make her knees weak, and she didn’t even know why. “If I was her child, she would’ve birthed me at ten, which unfortunately is not considered nearly as reprehensible as it should be.” He leaned in to kiss Manuela’s and Aurora’s hands, a warm smile tipping up his lips.
“You have made an impression on my stepmother, Miss Caceres Galvan. She was quite stirred by your luncheon this afternoon.” By all appearances the duchess remained impassive at the comment, but a moment later the duke cried out in pain, before dissolving into laughter.
“Your stepmother hosts quite an exciting lunch.” She snapped open her fan again and waved it very slowly right over the area on her chest where her breasts were pushed up and out by her corset. “My mouth is still tingling.” She made sure to bite her bottom lip, right on the same spot where Cora had so tantalizingly suckled it that afternoon. “From the oysters, of course.”
