“It seems I have waited a lifetime to meet him. Bring him to me, please.”

Jessie had only to smile at Chase, and he knew it was all right. Yet his feet dragged as he entered the room. He was afraid. It was the end of such a long road.

Jessie felt like an intruder as she watched them staring at each other, stupefied. “I will leave you two alone now.”

“No!” Don Carlos stopped her. “It will be easier for us if you stay, please.”

Jessie thanked heaven that Don Carlos spoke English so well. How awkward things would be otherwise.

“Don Carlos, this is my husband, Chase Summers. Chase—”

“That’s not necessary, Jessie,” Chase cut in nervously.

Don Carlos came straight to the point. “Your mother, she told you about me?” His voice quavered.

“Very little,” Chase said coldly.

Jessie could have kicked him. What was wrong with him? He had been dying to get to Spain to meet the man, and now this cold attitude.

Don Carlos didn’t know how to proceed. Did the young man hate him?

“I think perhaps we would do well to get questions out of the way,” Don Carlos suggested gently. “You must have much you wish to ask me, and I have many questions of my own.”

“You mean you’re actually interested in me?”

“Chase!” Jessie gasped.

His sarcasm was ignored by Don Carlos. “This man Summers. Was he good to you?”

“Her married name was Ewing actually. There was no Summers. She didn’t marry Ewing until I was ten. She called herself the widow Summers for the first ten years of my life because she had to hide her shame. She wasn’t a woman who could deal with shame very well.”

“No, Mary Beckett wouldn’t have,” Don Carlos said sadly.

“Was that her name?” Chase cried.

“You mean she never told you her name?”

“The most she would tell me about herself was that she came from New York. She never talked of her past. She was very bitter.”

“And so are you, I see,” Don Carlos replied softly. “I cannot fault you for this. I have been filled with bitterness myself these many years since my uncle died and I learned all of what he kept from me.”

“You’re saying you didn’t know she was pregnant?” Chase asked, disbelief clear in his manner.

“My boy, it is much worse than that. For seventeen years I thought your mother had only toyed with my affections to amuse herself. I did not know of my Uncle Francisco’s machinations until ten years ago when he lay dying and was determined to confess the wrong he had done me.

“You see, I had every intention of marrying Mary Beckett, but I had not asked her because I felt it was my duty to explain my intentions to my uncle first. He was my guardian while I was in America, so that was proper.”

“And he refused?”

“No. He was not happy about it, but he did not refuse. What he did do, that I was unaware of, was keep me from seeing Mary. He kept me busy at the hacienda with one thing after another so I could not go to see her. And when she came to see me, he told her I was unavailable and he never told me she had been there. He thought that I was too young to know what was good for me. He believed that simply keeping us apart was all that was necessary, that the young quickly forget.”

“But he was told about her condition. She told me that she and her father went to see him, that her father demanded you marry her.”

“Yes, that is true. And my uncle was so surprised and shaken by the news that he told them the first thing that came to mind, that I had already returned to Spain, that marriage with an americana was unsuitable at any rate, that I was already promised to another and was returning to Spain to marry this fictitious novia.”

“But surely you tried to see her?”

“I thought it would be weeks before she sailed. All this took place in only a matter of days, you see. I was not worried about the loss of a few days helping my uncle. I would have the rest of my life with Mary. But in fact her father was so furious with my uncle that he sailed that very night after their meeting. When I learned that their ship had gone, I did not understand. I was ready to follow her to New York on the next ship.

“Then my uncle furthered his lies by telling me he had seen Mary with another man and had confronted her for my sake. He had let it slip that I meant to marry her. And here he used the same lie he told her father, telling me that she laughed at him, saying she would never marry a foreigner, that she was already engaged and just having some fun before she had to settle down. The ship was gone, and I made the mistake of believing my uncle. He was my father’s brother, and I had always been close to him since he had no children of his own. I never dreamed he would lie to me. It never occurred to me. I was so despondent after that, he made arrangements to send me home, not knowing what else to do with me. Once I got home, I let my mother marry me to the first girl she found suitable. I just didn’t care.”

“But why did your uncle interfere, for God’s sake?”

“Uncle Francisco took his guardianship too seriously. He felt that he was doing the right thing, that I really was too young to make such an important decision. He also feared that my mother would not approve. He had written her about it to ask her guidance, but of course everything happened so quickly. He panicked when he was confronted with Mary’s pregnancy. He resorted to lies because he didn’t really know what to do.”

“You defend him?” Chase asked angrily.

“No,” Don Carlos replied. “I damned him myself when he told me and could not give him the forgiveness he begged for before he died. But I do understand better now. And he did try to make amends. You see, his great guilt was that my marriage had produced no children, none that lived. Yet he knew I must have a child somewhere in America. So he left his entire fortune at my disposal to find that child. I have spent nearly half of it doing just that, but with no luck. Now that you are found, his last instructions can be fulfilled. The rest of his wealth was to be given to you. It is yours.”

“No it’s not,” Chase said automatically. “I’ll be damned if I’ll take any of his money.”

“But you must take it,” Don Carlos said. “It was left to the child of Mary Beckett. There is still a considerable amount left, and I also have much to make up for.”

“No! I didn’t come here looking for money from you and certainly not from your uncle.”

“You’ve made that quite clear, Chase,” Jessie interjected, angry at his obstinacy. “But we’ll take the money, Don Carlos.”

“Like hell we will!”

“I certainly will. I’m not pigheaded enough to throw away money.”

“I can support you, Jessie.”

“Yes, well, we can talk about that later,” she said evasively, sorry she’d opened her mouth. “I think I’ll take my leave now, Chase, since you’ve broken the ice so nicely.”

Jessie couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. She regretted her sarcasm but wondered why Chase couldn’t be a little bit gracious. Remembering how she’d treated her mother, she pushed the thought aside. She returned to her own room and paced the floor nervously.

The knock at the door startled Jessie, but she sighed when she saw it was Rodrigo. “I thought you were my husband.”

“And you do not wish to see him?”

“How did—? It’s just that we had a little argument.”

Rodrigo stepped forward into the room. “You do not have to explain. I could not help but overhear you on the stairs.”

“Oh.” She had forgotten about that argument already.

“I did not understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable.”

Jessie flushed. “Did Nita overhear, too?”

“No, I don’t think so. But you must not be embarrassed that I know. I could not be more delighted.”

He reached for her hand, but Jessie stepped back, frowning. “Delighted? I think we are having a problem with translation here. And I thought my Spanish was so good.”

Rodrigo shook his head, smiling at her. “You may think me callous, but I am glad to know all is not well between you and your husband. I wish I had confessed my feelings to you before now. I would not have had to hide them these last few days.”

“Rodrigo, what exactly do you mean?”

He smiled. “I knew I loved you from the first day I saw you.”

Jessie gasped. “But you can’t love me. I just got here, and you barely know me.”

“What does time mean where the heart is concerned?”

Jessie very nearly laughed, but stopped herself in time.

“Rodrigo, you are very sweet, but I cannot take this seriously. I’m sure you don’t, either.”

“You doubt me?” He did not appear wounded, only determined. “I have dreamed of being able to bare my soul to you. I have dreamed ...”

He gathered her into his arms. His kiss was startling, neither welcome nor unpleasant. Jessie’s only thought was, I’m married now—no one can kiss me but Chase. It was disquieting that she should think only of Chase when another man was kissing her, quite a handsome man, too.

She turned her head to the side, ready to admonish Rodrigo. The words stuck in her throat. She faced the door, and Chase was standing there. She had never seen him looking so forbidding.

“That is what I have dreamed of doing, my love,” Rodrigo was saying, blissfully unaware of Chase. “This and so much more. When we are married.”

“Rodrigo, stop it!” Jessie shoved him back and looked away from Chase to glare at Rodrigo. “You assumed far too much from overhearing a little argument. I have a husband. And now I have to explain this to him.”

“You will tell him? But that is wonderful!”