By the washstand Harry finished shaving and dried his face with a towel. For the first time, Elena noticed the mirror on the wall above the washstand, and then, given her present position, belatedly grasped the implications. How much had he seen? However, he made no remark on the subject and nothing could have been more innocent than his expression. Perhaps she was being oversensitive. All the same, the thought that he might have seen her half-clothed made her feel suddenly warmer. To cover her embarrassment she busied herself repacking her saddlebags.
Harry laid the towel aside and finished dressing. Once he glanced at Elena but she seemed not to notice. Schooling his expression to neutrality, he tried not to think about the vision in the mirror; she really did have the most wonderful legs. Beautiful hair too, waist length, blue-black and glossy as a rook’s ring. Hair that made a man long to touch it. He pulled himself up short knowing that he had no right to think along those lines. He could not offer her his heart and without that what remained was lust. To follow such an inclination would be contemptible. With a determined effort he turned his mind to other things.
‘Are you ready for some breakfast, Elena?’
‘That sounds good.’ It surprised her to discover how good. Having eaten little the previous evening she was hungry now.
They went down together. The patròn plied them with ham and eggs and fresh bread. It was delicious and Elena did full justice to the meal. Harry watched in quiet amusement, privately relieved to see her eat well. The nervousness he had seen last night was gone, and that pleased him too. The thought of any woman fearing him was distasteful, but in this case it was downright painful. He made no attempt to hurry her or reveal any impatience at the delay; as he had told her, an hour or two would make little difference.
Thus it was nearer to nine before they eventually set out again. The horses seemed to have benefitted from their unscheduled stop at the inn and stepped out eagerly. Seeing Harry engaged in quiet conversation with Jack, Concha eased her mount alongside Elena’s horse, regarding her mistress with a critical eye.
‘Are you all right? I was so worried I hardly slept last night.’
‘I assure you I am quite well.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Concha bit her lip. ‘I never anticipated such a move by your uncle.’
‘Nor I. He outmanoeuvred us all.’
‘He knew you would not refuse.’
‘I underestimated him and no mistake.’
Concha hesitated. ‘The Englishman did not hurt you?’
‘No, he did not.’
‘Thanks be to God.’
‘He didn’t touch me.’
‘What!’ Recovering herself quickly, the maid lowered her voice again. ‘You mean he didn’t even try to...’
‘That’s right.’
‘But that’s...that’s...’
‘Unheard of?’
‘Well, yes.’ Concha paused. ‘Have you ever heard of such a thing before?’
Elena shook her head. ‘In truth I have never met a man quite like this one.’
‘He’s English. One must take that into consideration.’
‘There is that, of course, but given the circumstances his reaction is not so surprising.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘He was compelled to this match as well.’
‘He didn’t resist very strenuously though, did he?’
‘My uncle left no room for argument.’
‘If you ask me, your husband was not as unwilling as you seem to think. I saw how he looked at you before.’
‘He looked at me with respect.’
‘There was a lot more than just respect in his eyes,’ said Concha.
‘You’re mistaken. His manner was always correct to a fault.’
‘More like a man keeping himself on a tight rein. Of course, he did think then that you were going to be a nun.’
‘But for him I would have been.’
‘Do you regret the decision?’
The question caught her unawares but it took less than a second for Elena to know the answer.
‘No, I don’t regret it. How could I?’
‘So you are not entirely indifferent to him.’
‘I think it would be hard to feel indifferent to him. He is a good man.’ It was an evasion and Elena knew it, but she could not have explained her feelings just then since she hardly knew what they were herself.
Concha made no reply but smiled quietly.
They stopped at midday to rest the horses and then broke out provisions for themselves. Elena, relaxing on a sun-warmed rock, thought that bread and cheese and sausage had never tasted so good. Perhaps it was something to do with the open space around her, or the blue vault overhead, or the scent of pine resin from the trees, or just knowing that at last she was free of pursuit, that her uncle no longer had any authority over her. That reposed in the hands of a very different kind of man. She glanced in Harry’s direction. Currently munching on a hunk of bread, he looked relaxed and entirely untroubled. Did he share her anxieties about the future? That last was something yet to be discussed. The advent of their marriage was still too new and too strange to permit such things. Besides, he might have had plans of his own which had been entirely overset. When he had spoken of their needing time to adjust he had hit the nail on the head.