At the Spanish Duke's Command Read Free Page A

frowned.
    â€œWhy, really, Letti,” her mother exclaimed, shocked. “Surely you can both find time for your wedding?”
    â€œYes, of course, Mother. I didn’t mean to sound uninterested.” Letti glanced briefly at Juan, who smiled back at her, amused.
    Her frankness was one of her best qualities. Neither of them pretended to be in love. It was a practical arrangement that suited them both. He knew that he had a real friend in Letti, and didn’t have to pretend to court her. She accepted the arrangement for what it was: a marriage of convenience that suited their time and station in life.
    â€œDon’t worry about us, Doña Elvira,” he said, placing a reassuring arm on his future mother-in-law’s sleeve.“Letti and I will sort it all out in good time. But I think we can safely say that we are thinking of the spring.”
    â€œExactly. Spring,” Letti answered, relieved, straightening the skirt of her chic Chanel tweed suit. “That will give us lots of time to prepare, Mama.”
    â€œWell, I hope so,” Doña Elvira said doubtfully. “There is always so much to do before a wedding, you know. Remember when Patricia, your sister, got married—all the time it took to decide on the invitations alone? It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
    â€œI’m sure Juan and I will be able to make up our minds rapidly,” she reassured her mother.
    â€œPlease don’t choose that dreadful recycled paper, will you?” Doña Elvira turned to Juan. “It always looks so grubby. I don’t know why people favour it.”
    â€œIt’s ecology, my dear,” Don Alvaro assured her. “Good for the environment.”
    â€œThat’s all very well.” Doña Elvira sniffed. “But after seeing that dreadful invitation that Teresa Albregon de Lozada sent us the other day I can only shudder. I feel so sorry for her poor mother. It is so ugly I didn’t even place it on the mantelpiece in the small drawing room.”
    â€œDoña Elvira, I give you my word of honour that no such paper will be used in any shape or form at our wedding.” Juan exchanged a quick conspiratorial smile with Leticia while raising Doña Elvira’s hand to his lips.
    â€œThere. You see, Mama? No need to worry. We’ll only settle for something you approve of. In fact, if you like,” she said, warming to her theme, “you could choose the invitations yourself. You wouldn’t mind that, would you, Juan? It would save a lot of trouble,” she added in an under-voice.
    â€œReally, Letti!” her mother exclaimed, brows raised.“I’m ashamed of you. Not choose your own wedding invitations, indeed! I never heard of anything so preposterous.”
    â€œVery well, Mama.” Leticia sighed, rolled her eyes and smiled at Juan once more. “You pick out those you like the best, Mama, and we’ll select one of them.”
    Hoping she’d appeased her parent, at least for the moment, Leticia went with Juan out onto the terrace, where they sat for a while in wide wicker chairs, enjoying the early autumn day while they sipped their drinks. The house, in the distinguished Madrid suburb of Puerta de Hierro, had a huge private garden and a lovely lawn. Two peacocks preened themselves by the lily pond, their splayed feathers caught in the fleeting sunlight.
    â€œSo, how are things going now that you’re back?” Letti asked, leaning back and watching Juan.
    â€œFine. Business as usual. By the way, I meant to tell you—the Mondragales send you their best. I had drinks with them before leaving Marbella. They hope to be here later in the season.”
    â€œGood. They’re very nice. And, of course, a very interesting contact for that paper business of yours,” she pointed out with a significant look.
    â€œGreat minds think alike. I can already tell what an excellent wife you’ll be, Letti.” He