Bound to Be a Bride Read Free

upholding his side of the bargain.
    His father pressed the satchel into his hands. “You will need this.”
    Javier stared in disbelief.
    “Francisco!” His mother’s voice was firm, but with a hint of loving exasperation. She always accused her husband of being overly caught up in the details of life. “Let the boy repair his horse. We must be on our way or risk insulting His Excellency.”
    “Very well. I know you are right. Say good-bye to Javier.”
    Despite the shadows of the forest and the layers of black lace that obstructed her from his view, Javier always remembered that moment as a profound silent connection between them.
    His mother exhaled slowly. “I love you, Javier. Be careful… with the horseshoe.”
    And then the moment was gone, as if it had never been, and she withdrew into the carriage to make a prompt arrival at the home of His Excellency, the Duke of Feria.
    Before Javier could process that his parents knew full well what his disobedient intentions were, Marco and their third partner in crime, Sebastián de Montizón, were repairing the now-infamous horseshoe. With a few firm taps of the hammer they’d brought specifically for that purpose, the shoe was back in place and the three men were back in their saddles within a few minutes. The horses sensed that the real riding was about to begin. Javier’s Goliat made two quick, excited circles, then nickered and tossed his neck to let everyone know he was ready to embark. Javier kept looking in the direction of his parents’ carriage, now long disappeared.
    “Javi?” Sebastián asked.
    Javier whipped his head around. “Sorry. Right.” He took another look into the dappled beauty of that midday Spanish forest, until a firm resolve settled hard and sure over his heart. “Right. Let us be off, then.”
    And the three turned their horses in the opposite direction, galloping north for a few minutes, then veering due west, crossing through much of the Duke of Feria’s land and eventually on toward Portugal. Within five days of steady riding, a pace to which they had all become accustomed, with any luck, the three young rebels would be on board the British brig-ship Sappho and sailing out of Aveiro harbor toward the New World.
    ***
    Either they were stupid or arrogant. Probably both, since they were obviously men.
    Isabella had found it almost ridiculously easy to escape her supposedly inescapable fate. She did not think of herself as an overly dramatic female. She had no interest in tense moments, but she had expected at least one or two heart-pounding run-ins or near-misses at the very least. As it turned out, everyone was so preoccupied with the wedding and the arrival of all the great families of Spain that no one took the least notice of the bride’s absence. Much later, she would learn that Sol had kept the door to her chamber closed and informed anyone who tried to get in that the young, virginal, timid bride-to-be simply had to have a few more minutes to prepare herself for the high honor of becoming the wife of the future Conde Javier de la Mina. When it became evident that the conde would never arrive, it was even more fitting that the supposedly distraught maiden would refuse to leave her room ever again.
    But since Isabella was in the forest many miles away at that time, and awash in the brazen certainty of her unaided cleverness, she did not think that anyone else had played any part in her escape. She had made wonderful time. All her parcels were intact. Undressing had proved the most difficult task so far, but even that was rather quickly dispensed with when Isabella thought only of speed rather than propriety and used her knife to cut a clean line right down the front of her priceless wedding gown. She kept her shift and corset and drawers and changed into the peasant dress she had hidden for herself in the tree.
    While still at the castle, and just before the sun had reached its zenith, Isabella had forced herself to appear nervous