“Well, good then.”He rubbed his hands together.“Please do try to eat at least a small portion of this food.It will do you good.I hope you rest well.”
“You too,Capi...Pedro.”
“Gracias.Oh, Ana?”
“Sí?”
“Cómo te amo!”he stated, raising a hand in a dramatic pose, like a great theatrical actor.His expression, which had been quite somber as of late, warmed into an endearing smile.Ana could not help but laugh at that, just as her heart started beating strange patterns in her chest.
Yes,shewould be safe with himsiempre.But would her heart?
Chapter 5
October 31, 1813, Abbeygate, Surrey Hills, England
“Mr.Ashmore, a...newspaper of sorts has arrived for Mrs.Ashmore,” Burnsey said as he stood in the doorway of Peter’s study.
“For Ana?Are you certain?”Peter asked, reaching out his hand.“From whom, I wonder.”
“I haven’t the foggiest.But it be in Spanish, so it must be for your lady.”
“I see.Thank you, Burnsey, I’ll show it to her myself.”
Peter’s hands trembled as he grasped the folded paper.The print was disorderly, rushed.It didn’t seem like a product of a regular print shop but rather an individually constructed manifesto.Who had delivered this item to them?How had they known that Ana was here?Nobody knew of her existence, her origin.Fear clenched in his stomach as he reached Ana’s door and knocked.
“Pasa,” she called, indicating to him to come in.
“Ana, a newspaper has arrived in Spanish.I wondered if you might take a look at it.”He placed the paper into her outstretched hands.“I suspect it is some sort of report.The length and form of it indicate as much.”
“It is from San Sebastián.”Ana’s face was shadowed with fear in an instant; the lightness in her eyes that had welcomed his arrival had disappeared entirely.
“You know that my Spanish is absolutely horrid.Would you just translate a bit of it, please?”Peter stood tall and firm, but he could not stop the nervous tapping of his foot.What would the paper contain?Perhaps some proof of the fault of the British and Portuguese armies?
“I no want to read this.”Her eyes widened pleadingly.
“But this report very well could be a blessing to us.It could provide a way for me...forusto make right all that was done in San Sebastián.”All that was done toher.A twinge of pain settled in Peter’s chest, his breathing increasing in excitement and desperation.
“Very well.I translateun poco, sí?”
“Gracias, Ana.”Peter reached for her hand and squeezed firmly.He smiled, harboring the hope that this newspaper would bring them good news and save them from the memories that haunted them both.
“The town of San Sebastián was put on fire by the Allies,” Ana began, her voice trembling and halting.“After, these troops started an attack veryhorrible...”Ana begun, her voice trembling.She was much more practiced in translating from text, Peter realized, than in forming English sentences on her own.It must have been part of her education and role as a translator.
“The people of San Sebastián were controlled for so long time by the French,” Ana continued.“So they welcome the Allies with much gratitude, but these soldiers responded to them with gunfire at their doors, and many people die.”Ana’s voice cracked with emotion, as faces of the Basque and Spanish victims, young and old, paraded through Peter’s mind.
“When it became dark and the French retreated, there was much horror.All around could be heard the sound of crying women who were being attacked.”Tears soaked Ana’s face now, but her voice continued in an automatic, learned fashion.“No matter their age, wives were hurt in the view of their husbands, girls attacked in front of their parents...”
Peter pulled the paper from her hands as bile rose high in his throat.“Forgive me, this was a grave mistake.I should not have you read such things.Not after what you endured.”
“Por favor, Pedro.I no want to remember these thingsterribles.”
“I am sorrier than I can say.I hadn’t the faintest idea that it would be such a...descriptive account.I merely hoped it would give us some names or remind us of specifics to help bring to punishment those who were at fault.”
“San Sebastiánissiemprein my mind.I no need to be reminded of this.”
“I know,” Peter said, squeezing Ana’s hand.
Her brow was furrowed, her jaw set with concern.If he could not somehow take away the pain inside that caused this reaction, he wished he could at least reach over and smooth the lines himself.Even worse, Peter had caused her distress without gaining any of the evidence that he had been hoping for.And he had forced his tender wife to relive such terrible events.He was not rescuing her from her fate in the slightest when he requested she read such things.It appeared Peter would have to continue his efforts on his own.
