One Night Of Consequences Collection. Annie West
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parted. His Lena?
“Sí.” Alejandro put his arm around me. “My Lena.”
“I’m so happy to meet you at last!” she said with clear delight. “I told him he had to bring you here. Wait until you hear him play!”
“Play?” I echoed, looking at him.
He blushed. I swear he did. “Yes. I play a little guitar sometimes. No one cares I’m a duke here. They only care how well I play the guitar....”
“Are you that good?”
“Let him show you.” Theresa gave me a wink. “Drink orders always go up thirty percent when you sing, Alejandro.” She turned to me with a smile. “Go grab a table, if you can find one.... And what will you have?”
“Bourbon,” he said. “Rocks.”
“Right. Lena?”
“Something light...sangria?”
She chuckled. “Light?”
“Isn’t it mostly juice with a bit of red wine?”
She gave a hearty guffaw and glanced at Alejandro affectionately. “Innocent little thing, isn’t she?”
“Very,” he said quietly.
She sighed, looking back at me, she suggested, “I’ll make you a tinto de verano. Dash of wine, sugar and a little lime with sparkling water. Trust me. It won’t go to your head.”
She was right. The delicious concoction was a mixture of tart and sweet and bubbles, with lemon and limes floating beside the ice. I had one glass, then another, then a third, then looked down at my empty plate and realized I’d ordered and eaten a whole plate of dinner without paying the slightest attention.
“What time is it?” My head was swimming. I put my hands to my temples. “She said this drink wouldn’t go to my head,” I said accusingly.
Alejandro gave a low laugh. “It wouldn’t, but you had four of them.”
“Four?” I looked with amazement at my empty glass. “They just taste so light. The most delicious wine cooler ever invented.”
“You should stop.”
I looked at him brazenly. “You should tell me who you really are.”
Time suddenly stood still.
“Don’t you know?” he said hoarsely. “Haven’t you guessed?”
“Don’t tell me you’re already having your first fight.” Theresa was holding out a guitar. “Fix it, pequeño. Play.”
“Sí!” the people around us clamored, pounding on their tables. “Play!”
Alejandro shook his head. “We’re leaving.”
But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to see what everyone else apparently already knew. The other side of my husband. The one he’d never let me see. “Will you play?” I whispered. “For me?”
He whirled to look at me. Then he gave a slow nod. “For you, mi amor.” He slowly took the guitar in his hand, and there was a burst of cheers and applause. “This is just for you.”
Walking across the crowded tavern, past all the tables to the tiny stage, Alejandro sat on a stool. With his guitar in his lap, he said simply into the microphone, “This is for my bride. The mother of my child.” He looked at me. “The woman I love.”
My lips parted in a silent gasp.
Could he have said...
Surely he couldn’t have said...
How strong were those tinto de verano drinks anyway?
Exhaling, Alejandro strummed his guitar, and in a low, husky voice began to sing. It sounded very old, and Spanish. He was a good musician, I thought in amazement, really good, far better than any tycoon-slash-duke had a right to be. The music was so heartbreaking and pure that at first, I didn’t bother to listen to the words.
Then I did.
Alejandro stared at me from across the room, and sang about a young peasant boy who’d dared to put on the clothes of a prince. He’d gone through life as an imposter, until he died heartbroken, wishing he could see, just one last time, the peasant girl he’d left behind.
Love me? My whole body flashed hot, then cold as his words took on new significance. You do not even know me.
I dimly heard the whispers hissing through the room. “That’s the Duke of Alzacar—and she must be his new wife—they’re obviously in love....” But I just listened to the music, and suddenly, it all fell into place.
Maurine’s shaky words. If not for him, I never would have survived the aftermath of that car crash, when I lost my whole family.... I can still see him in the hospital, his little injured face covered with bandages, his eyes so bright.... He was worried about me, not himself. “It’ll be all right, Abuela,” he told me. “I’m your family now.”
Pilar’s voice. I know it was always your desire to have a larger family, growing up so lonely, up in that huge castle, with your older sister off working in Granada. And your mother working night and day, when she wasn’t distracted by the duke....
I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if I was choking. The walls of the tavern were pressing in. Rising unsteadily to my feet, I pushed through the tables and headed for the door. I saw Theresa’s surprised face as I flung it open and headed outside.
In the quiet night, in the empty, cobblestoned alley, I fell back against the rough stone wall and looked up at the moonlight, shaking. I jumped when I heard the slam of the door behind me.
“So now you understand,” Alejandro said quietly behind me.
“You’re not the duke at all,” I choked out, hardly able to believe it even as I said it. “The real Alejandro died in that crash, didn’t he? Along with his parents. And your mother—the housekeeper.”
“I had to do it.” The only sign of emotion was the slight tightening of his jaw, the low tone of his voice. “Maurine had lost everything. And I loved her. Growing up in the castle, she’d always treated me like a grandson. And on that terrible day, the day of the crash, she lost everyone. When she came to see me at the hospital, she seemed to have aged ten years. She was so alone. I couldn’t leave her to die in the dilapidated castle, with no one to take care of her....” Swallowing, he looked down at the cobblestoned street. Moonlight left a trail of silver on his dark silhouette as he said quietly, “So I told Maurine I would be her family from now on. Her grandson.”
“How is it possible no one knew?”
“Alejandro and I looked very much alike. We were the same age, same build. And after the accident, my face was injured. We used that to explain the difference. Not that anyone asked. People had long since stopped coming to the castle. The duke and his family had chased most of the tenants away by harassing them over rents. Even their old society friends shunned them, since they were always asking to borrow money. Alejandro’s parents felt ashamed of how far they’d fallen. Just not ashamed enough to work for something better.” He looked up. “My mother was the only servant left, and she hadn’t been paid in a year.” Taking a deep breath, he said simply, “When Abuela claimed I was her grandson, and pawned the last of her jewelry to pay the transfer-of-title fees, no one questioned it.”
“But a few people knew.”
He nodded. “Pilar, our governess.” He glanced at the restaurant door. “My older sister. Theresa.”
My lips parted. “Your sister?”
“Half sister. She’s eight years older. She was working in Granada when the accident happened. She rushed to the hospital as soon as she heard, but Abuela convinced her to keep the secret. They have all kept it. Because they love me. And they love Abuela.” He looked away. “As