Tempted By Innocence. Lyn Randal
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I do not know. Could it be your father has…departed? That you’re the recipient of an inheritance or something?”
Diego halted for a moment, considering that, then shook his head and resumed his pacing. “That doesn’t explain the presence of the girl. Who is she? What does she want with Diego Castillo?”
“I’d hoped you might answer that question.”
“My father’s not been ill,” Diego reasoned, as if to himself. “Doña Elena Ponce de León sends me news of Seville. Her last letter came but two weeks ago and she said only that my brother was…that he is…”
Ricardo looked up sharply and frowned. “To wed, Diego.”
“He is to wed. There, I’ve said it.” Diego stopped and shook his head. “And at the time all I could think was, ‘God bless them both,’ but that was before…”
Ricardo cocked his head, but Diego only frowned at him. Ricardo frowned back, nonplussed. Diego had been his friend for years, and nothing, not even the priest’s ill humour, could dissuade him from their deep friendship.
Ricardo let Diego pace awhile, then cleared his throat. “You must meet them, Diego, and find out why they’re asking for you. They’re to dine with me this evening; you might as well attend.”
Diego stroked his chin. “You could discuss the business with them and tell me of it later. That way—”
Ricardo stood abruptly. “You’re the damnedest, you know that? The damnedest! Truly, I’ve never known you for a coward, but—”
Diego’s lips twitched. “And you’re probably the only Spaniard I know who gets away with cursing his own priest.” He shrugged. “I’m no coward, Ricardo, but there’s more to this tale than you understand. I have reason to be loath to meet them. The English señorita in particular.”
“Well, enlighten me. What’s a reason so good that you can’t at least discover their business, especially if accompanied by a fine meal and good wine?”
Diego raised his eyebrow in such a rakish way that it almost offset the pious formality of the priestly robe he wore. “This morning I went to my bath at the river, heard a feminine scream, and before I knew what was happening, had pulled a woman from the water.”
“That makes you a gentleman, Diego. What of it?”
“Well, something passed between me and the girl as I held her in my arms.”
“Something like physical attraction, Diego? Well, it happens. Even priests are men.”
“I’m not supposed to let it happen to me.”
Ricardo snorted. “Carnal temptation. As long as nothing comes of it, you’ve not sinned. There’s no ill done.”
“Except that I stood naked with the girl in my arms, Ricardo. And then became aroused…by her…beauty.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Where is a towel when you need one?”
Diego frowned. “This is no laughing matter. I couldn’t hold her in my arms all day, and when I put her down… Well, she saw…everything…’ ere she fled from me.”
Ricardo threw back his head and laughed. Diego scowled at him.
“And let me guess,” Ricardo said, still grinning. “Our lovely redheaded guest is the lady of whom we speak?”
“Aye, she is the one.”
“So there’s the rub.” Ricardo shook his head. “You still must face her. Oh, you’ll be a bit embarrassed. She’ll be quite a lot embarrassed. But it happened, and now it’s in the past. She’s got to understand that even priests can be men occasionally, and curse it all, she interrupted your bath. It isn’t as if you tried to seduce the girl. You didn’t try to, did you?”
“Of course not. Whatever my past sins, I’ve been faithful to my vows since I spoke them.”
Ricardo gestured with the glass of Madeira. “So let the girl see that robe, Padre. She’ll get over the shock. She’ll cry herself to sleep because her blue-eyed piece of masculine flesh has a higher call than marriage, but she’ll get over it.”
“Well, there’s more.”
“Damn. There always is.”
“She came to shrift this afternoon and…well, I couldn’t let her know that the priest to whom she was confessing her lustful feelings had…uh….”
“Been guilty of the same lustful feelings?”
“Aye, some such thing as that.”
“So now she’ll know you deceived her.”
“And there’s more.”
Ricardo shook his head. “More? Sweet blessings, Diego! For a priest, you get into the most confounded messes.”
“It seems our unexpected encounter moved her deeply, so deeply that now she doubts she can feel the same for her betrothed.”
“Her betrothed?” Ricardo glanced up into Diego’s face and found it far too grim. “Oh, dear heavens,” he said. “Don’t tell me. Not…your brother?”
“My brother.”
Ricardo sat down abruptly. “Hell. Hell and damnation.”
“Ricardo, those curses—”
“It’s like the last time all over again, isn’t it? You and Damian and Leonora.”
“Nay, Ricardo. It is not like the last time. I’ll not let it be. I’m under my vows now.”
Ricardo shook his head. “Sins of the flesh, sins of the mind. Cuidado, amigo. They are not too far apart.”
The muscle tensed in Diego’s jaw. He said nothing.
Ricardo breathed in deeply. “You can’t run, Diego. You must face our guests, including the señorita. Come, dine with us this evening.”
“She’ll be angry when she discovers who I am. What I’ve done.”
“Let her be angry. Let her vent her spleen and hate you. It will be the simplest way.”
Diego nodded.
Ricardo walked across the room. He looked back from the doorway. “And, by the way, her name is Celeste.”
Celeste, Diego thought when he sat alone in the quiet. Well, it would have to be. Everything about her, even her name, was heavenly.
And that made him feel like hell.
Chapter Three
Celeste dressed for dinner early and, having time to spare, decided to explore the lush gardens of the courtyard and beyond. They were lovely past anything she’d seen before, even though the sisters in the convent where she’d studied had kept beautifully tended gardens of herbs, with captivating masses of English roses thrown in for sheer beauty. Sister Maria Theresa had smiled once when Celeste expressed delight over a particular bloom. “The Lord gives us all things to enjoy,” the nun had said. “He means that we find communion with him through the wonders of his creation.”
Now Celeste pondered that. She could see how the beauties of blossoms and butterflies and birds, of mountains and rivers and trees, could lead her heart towards a sweet communion with the Almighty.
But the most magnificent beauty she’d seen of late had been the etched muscle of a man, a man with long hair of tawny-gold and eyes of turquoise-blue. And that beauty, she had little doubt, would only lead her further from God’s virtuous path.
She thought again of the priest’s words. She must put the man from her mind. To think on him would lead to folly.
Yet she didn’t want to put thoughts