She followed him around the perimeter of the inn, past the stables to where two horses were tied to a post.
He pointed to one and gestured for her to mount.
She stood still, refusing to move. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me about my father.”
He turned to look at her, his expression surprisingly unthreatening. In fact, he lookedgentle, a direct contradiction to his appearance. Not at all like someone involved in abduction and blackmail.
“Senorita Ashton, we do not have much time. Please hurry and I will take you to your father. He awaits you at the city.”
She gasped. The city? Did he mean Pagoria? Was her father there? Was the man holding him waiting for the bracelet so he could gain entrance?
“I can see you have many questions. They will be answered in due time. Now hurry. We must go. There are many lives at stake.”
His words echoed the note he had sent, and yet there was no urgency attached to his voice. On the contrary, he sounded calm and serene.
“Let me help you,” he said, as she made to mount her horse.
He lifted her easily, and when she was settled, he swung onto the other horse and headed out. She paused for a moment to look back at the inn. Back to where Ridge was. Sorrow filled her heart. Her chest expanded as the ache ate her alive.
“Senorita? We must hurry,” Juan Miguel urged.
Her heart shattering in two, she turned and nudged her horse forward. Away from the inn. Away from Ridge. Away from her dreams.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ridge woke in the middle of the night with the knowledge that something was not right. Since their arrival that morning in San Sebastian, he knew they were on the wrong path. His instincts screamed at him to go north, not south.
Before, he only had a feeling, an idea that the city would be found in the mountains, but now it was a truth.
But India was certain that the city lay to the south. The bracelet’s inscription certainly left no doubt that the city was approximate to Madrid and the river Tagus. One of them was wrong, and he was certain it wasn’t him.
He sat up in his bed, shoving the covers aside. Pale moonlight filtered through the draperies of his small room, casting dark shadows on the wall.
He stood and padded barefoot across the cool floor to the wash basin by the door and poured water from the pitcher into the bowl. Dipping his fingers into the lukewarm water, he patted his face and rubbed moisture over his eyes to alleviate the bleariness.
Gripping both sides of the small table, he looked into the mirror hanging over the basin. What if India was wrong?
He had no explanation for the overwhelming certainty that they should go north, but one thing was certain. The city did not lie to the south. He’d bet his entire fortune on it.
He ran a hand through his rumpled hair then massaged his unshaven face. He had to speak to India.
Turning away from the mirror, he reached for the trousers he had taken off a few hours earlier and thrust a leg into them. He threw on his shirt and briefly contemplated putting his boots on, but she was only across the hall. There was no point.
He paused at his door and nearly turned around and got back into bed, but something made him go on. He pulled out his fob and angled it toward the moon’s rays so he could see the time. Three in the morning.
He snorted in disgust. India likely wouldn’t appreciate the interruption. Then he remembered. She wasn’t likely asleep. She might welcome the company, and if truth be told, he craved hers.
He quietly opened the door and stepped into the hall. As he’d expected, light shone from underneath India’s door. Looking right and left to make sure no one was about, he crossed the hall. With one knuckle he knocked softly and waited a response.
When none was forthcoming, he knocked again, slightly louder. Could she have gone to sleep? He tried the knob and found the door unlocked. Hesitating only a moment, he opened the door a crack. Then he pushed it open enough that he could slide in.
He looked around the room as he stepped in, and frowned when he saw it was empty. The bed was neatly made, and lying on the blankets was a small pile of money. His gaze stopped on the candle. It was nearly burned down.
Alarm beat a steady rhythm in his chest. Had she been abducted? Had someone followed them to San Sebastian after all?
She was probably with Udaya.
He sighed in relief. Of course, that was the answer. But still, unease crawled up his spine.
