Chapter Seventeen
Seville, Spain—March 1517
Carlos dropped to his knee in the crowded marketplace, swept off his feathered hat and asked Luisa Valentina Altamirano if she would do him the honour of becoming his wife. A small stray dog, who had reluctantly agreed to play the role of Luisa, whined mournfully.
‘Release her,’ Carlos told his brother, Benicio. ‘She has made me into a fool.’
‘Indeed she has,’ agreed Benicio, releasing the scruffy canine, who took a direct route to a nearby butcher’s stall.
‘I need a more intelligent understudy,’ Carlos said, stroking his nascent beard, ‘one who will appreciate my poetry.’ Carlos eyed Benicio steadily.
‘Not I,’ Benicio protested, holding up his book of formulas. ‘I am a man of science. I am unqualified to assess your effusions of love.’
That was not entirely true. Cursed with the double-edged sword of male beauty, Benicio had had a stream of love interests over the years—women attracted by his piercing blue eyes and towering figure, which he had been told he moved with a remarkable grace. There was only one woman, however, whom Benicio had ever loved and she was about to receive a proposal of marriage from his younger brother Carlos.
‘If you will not play the role of Luisa, then I will ask Armando to do it,’ said Carlos, beckoning to their portly older brother, ‘though he is less suited to it.’
Benicio scoffed. ‘Armando is perfectly suited,’ he said. ‘Just look at how he preens before that hatters’ mirror.’ As Benicio and Carlos laughed mockingly at their older brother, Benicio slid a glance to the avenue that led into Seville’s bustling Plaza del Triunfo. Any moment, Luisa’s painted carriage would appear and La Belleza herself would disembark in a flutter of skirts and ribbons.
Benicio was already steeling himself against that moment, for he held a secret that even his brothers did not know. Only two months past, he had made his own proposal of marriage to Luisa and had not yet received her answer.
Tranquilo, he told himself, continuing to laugh rather too gaily. Why was he finding it so hard to control his nerves? He had known Luisa since childhood, after all. For most of their lives, they had been the best of friends. There was no reason for his heart to be racing as it was, or for the sweat to be surging beneath his chemise in a soaking torrent.
She had had the same effect on him the evening of the Feast of the Epiphany, when he had urged her to marry him. But she had only stared at him with those lovely green eyes, pondering something. What had it been?
‘I have returned,’ said Armando, rejoining them. ‘Why do you stare at me so piteously?’
‘You have been selected to hear Carlos’s proposal,’ explained Benicio.
Before Armando could protest, Carlos had dropped to his knee once again and was sputtering some muck about the colour of the rose in the light of dawn after the first rain. Undaunted, Armando embraced his role as Luisa and was soon heaving a false bosom and feigning a maiden’s tears. Benicio erupted in riotous laughter.
‘Knaves!’ shouted Carlos. But his sour expression quickly turned sweet, as his gaze travelled beyond his two brothers to a vision just behind them.
‘Dearest friends, what merriment have I missed?’ trilled a delicate, familiar voice.
Benicio and Armando turned. It was none other than Luisa. She had sneaked up on them with fox-like stealth. Benicio felt a rush of blood to his cheeks.
‘Carlos, what wretched errand do your brothers demand that requires you to kneel before them so deferentially?’ She offered her hand to Carlos to kiss, which he did for many long seconds. ‘And, Benicio, you are as red as a cock’s comb. Are your humours out of balance?’
She slid Benicio a playful grin, and his heart flickered. Had she just teased him? Searching for confirmation, his eyes stumbled upon her lips—two large, luscious impediments to his otherwise rational thoughts.
‘Benicio?’ Luisa asked again, her voice leaking concern.
She wore her curly hair pinned up, almost the same as when they were children, with two gentle ringlets framing her round face. As she spoke, they seemed to bounce in rhythm with Benicio’s racing heartbeats. ‘Tell me now,’ she demanded. ‘What are you three devils about?’
‘We were just...practising,’ said Carlos.
‘Practising?’
Carlos opened his