‘Then you’ll see why it matters to me too. He started talking about my getting married as soon as he knew I would be his heir. His one wish is to see the future of the de Silva dynasty secure—the prospect of grandchildren to inherit the dukedom when he is gone. That’s why Diego’s death hit my father hardest of all. He had been grooming my brother as his successor. Now he had to start all over again.’
He didn’t have to elaborate on what had put that note into his voice. Isabelle remembered only too well how he had told her of the way his father, Duke Alfonso, had always favoured his elder son. As an adolescent and a young man, Luis had rebelled against both this and the formal dignity of his position. That was why he had been in England, taking any unskilled job he could, in the first place.
Isabelle had never dreamed that the charming drifter with the melting eyes and equally liquid accent, who worked as a waiter in a wine bar, was actually a member of one of the noble houses of Spain, only a step away from the royal family. By the time he’d told her, she had already fallen totally in love with him.
‘So, naturally, you wanted to please him.’
A quick, abrupt inclination of his head indicated agreement.
‘And make what time he has left happy. In one way, it would be no hardship. I am of an age when most men think about settling down, having a family, and I certainly want children some day.’
‘But…’ Isabelle supplied when he paused, uncharacteristically hunting for words.
Because there had to be a but. It was there in his sudden hesitation, in the clouding of those brilliant eyes, the way his mouth clamped tight shut.
‘No, don’t bother, Luis—I’ll say it for you, shall I? It would have been no hardship but for the fact that you are already married. To a thoroughly inconvenient sort of a wife. The sort of a wife that you thought you had got rid of, left behind you, years ago, and you never wanted to see again.’
She had never expected him to deny it, but, even so, his silence as she paused to draw breath had an effect like a blow to her face. He didn’t even trouble to confirm her suspicions, simply stood there, regarding her stonily, no flicker of emotion on his dark features.
It was stupid, she knew, frankly naïve to have hoped for anything else. But she had hoped, she realised now. She had hoped that every word Catalina had said was a lie. That the inheritance of the dukedom had nothing to do with why Luis had wanted her back. And now she was being punished for that bit of presumptuous ingenuousness by the sharp slash of pain in her heart.
‘So why, then? Why am I here?’
‘You know why you’re here.’
‘No, I don’t!’
She had thought she’d known. Had believed that even if he didn’t love her the way that she loved him, then at least he had wanted her desperately—so much so that he couldn’t live without her. But what Catalina had said had destroyed even that delusion.
‘I mean, I know you needed a wife, but did it have to be me? Why not just get rid of the problem once and for all? I was asking for a divorce—why not just give me one? Why not divorce me and marry someone else—someone much more suitable?’
‘Divorce wouldn’t have been possible in this case, because our religion forbids it—certainly if I am to inherit my father’s position. I cannot be divorced and also be Duque de Madrigalo.’
Isabelle almost doubled up under the impact of the brutal pain. The words were almost an exact echo of the sneering declaration that Catalina had made.
‘Luis needs a wife. You’re the only wife he has, and as his religion doesn’t accept divorce—not if he is to inherit the dukedom—then you’ll have to do. It’s that simple.’
That simple and that appalling.
‘And so you were forced to come to me? To ask me to come back to you.’
‘I need you,’ he had said. And he had sounded as if the words had had to be dragged out of him. As if he had hated speaking every single syllable.
‘Isabella…’
‘Are you going to tell me it had nothing to do with it? Because quite frankly I won’t believe you. Your father made it plain that he believes marriage and the creation of heirs are your duty.’
‘That’s the way he sees it.’
‘And you don’t?’
He actually winced at the acid sarcasm in her tone.
‘What do you expect me to say? That it never entered my head? We both know that would be a lie. But there was more to it than that.’
All he wanted to do was to take her in his arms and show her just how much more there had been to it. If he could just hold her, kiss away her anger and her fear, she might listen to him. Perhaps he could even tell her how close he was to proving it. But it was as if there were a glass wall between them, and her face had a frozen, hostile look that forced him to hold back. Her beautiful green eyes were just chips of emerald, icy and distant.
And the damn foolish vow he had made to himself also held him back.