It was an excruciating secret.One that continuously ripped open her heart as the months—and then years—passed andMamánever wrote and never returned.But Ana had never breathed a word toPapáabout what she had seen, what she had heard.This secret was largely why Ana had sworn to be as open and honest with her husband and children as she possibly could.She would not put them through the turmoil that she had endured.
Perhaps that was just it:Mamá.True, Ana had not told Peter very much aboutMamá’sabsence in her life, but he had also never asked about the issue, and she had never found an appropriate moment to divulge such a heavy topic.
Ana had tried her very best to be open and honest with Peter.It had not been a simple task, all things considered, particularly when she was dealing with the unexpectedly wild emotions that her condition had brought her.And after all her efforts, she felt that somehow, Peter was the one who had not been completely honest with her.After all, he had spent much longer in London than expected and had returned with a burdened spirit indeed.
A few traitorous tears escaped now, though she tried to put the heaviness behind her in favor of the lightness of the evening’s celebrations.
“Ana darling, I was merely jesting.”Peter wiped her tears and pulled her into an embrace.“It is only a game and an ill-timed jest on my part.Don’t cry.Not on our special night.Please, forgive me.”
“Bueno, I forgive you.”Ana tried to believe her words, much as she was trying to calm her aching heart.
“Are you certain that you are all right?”
“Sí.”
“And you wish to continue?”
Ana nodded, brushing the wetness from her cheeks and moving her hair back from her face.
Peter stood, reaching for her hand.“So, Your Highness, have we spent sufficient time hiding away here?Shall we continue with our celebrations?”
“We shall,mi rey.”
“Do tell me, what do you have planned for us now?”
For a moment, her mind was foggy, still caught up in painful memories, but soon happier memories replaced them: Glimpses ofPapáwearing a fuzzy hat, fake nose, and silly costume as he chased the town children around the square.Echoes of the laughter they shared that filled the quiet emptiness of their home.El Día de los Inocenteswas very good for that, for bringing laughter and lightness to one’s home, even on a dark day.After all, it commemorated a dark day indeed, the day when King Herod of old commanded that so many innocent children be killed in his search for the babeJesús.And still, they could celebrate the clever and inspired trick that Joseph and Mary had played on him in escaping with the LordJesús.Even so, Ana could put dark memories behind her and enjoy this evening with her husband.
“A simple game forel Día de los Inocentes.”
“Somehow I do not trust that it will be truly as simple as you say.”
“Sí,it will be.You will wear a silly costume while the wholecasawill say howridículoyou appear and make...how you say?Jests.”
Peter shook his head, chuckling.“It sounds simply delightful.”
Chapter 22
January 8, 1814, Abbeygate, Surrey Hills, England
Ana was having a simply awful night.Comfortably settled in bed as she was, she could not seem to fall asleep.Perhaps it had been theRoscón de Reyescake that Peter had surprised her with late in the evening.Eating sugar near her regular time of retiring had never done her any good.Or perhaps it was her silly reaction to Peter’s earlier jest about secrets.He had been trying to flirt with her, hadn’t he?And she had made a grand old mess of it all.
Regardless of the reason, sleep was evading her continuously, much as Peter had attempted to evade her silly costumes and jests.But this situation was much less humorous.The later the hour, the weaker her resolve grew to block fearsome memories from her mind.
Out of doors, a rainstorm progressed ever fiercer.Thunder caused the house to tremble and the glass panes to rattle.Ana’s body tensed as she held yet another pillow over her head in an attempt to drown out the sound.Why must the storm sound so much like the gunfire and bomb explosions of the battlefield?Another crash was accompanied by splitting lightning that cast her room in foreboding shadows.Ana jumped at it, whimpering, and in her wild movements, she slammed her elbow into the thick wood of the headboard.She moaned.Would she ever be blessed with sleep tonight?A few more minutes passed, and when thunder pounded in her ears again, tears slipped down her cheeks.In her exhaustion, she could not separate the storm outside from the violent dreams that tortured her.
She could smell the ash, hear the screams, feel the ripping of her dress...
Then a knock cut through the noise of the battlefield.That certainly seemed out of place.Sure enough, it sounded again, soft but insistent, at the door adjoining her rooms to Peter’s.Ana latched onto the sound, begging it to pull her from the horrors that were running through her mind.
“Ana?Are you all right?”
Tears streamed down her cheeks even harder.She opened her mouth but couldn’t form words; instead, a cry emitted from her throat.It had been months since she’d been plagued by night terrors.
An instant later, the door swung open, and Peter strode to the side of her bed.His nightshirt hung open, exposing the shadows of a muscled chest, even in the dim light.Clearly he had not had time to pull on the additional cover of a nightgown or banyan.He rubbed a hand over his eyes, breathing heavily.“I have been hearing you all night.I cannot stand the sound of your cries anymore.”
Ana heated with embarrassment, which worsened at the intimacy of Peter’s lack of dress.Humiliation lit upon her skin, burning over its surface until it roared like a great fire in her belly.
“Lo sientofor disturbing you.I am so sorry...”
