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Thomas told him of Elena and how she had been blackmailed to keep him alive and how she then helped him to escape.
“That is some story. I suppose you want to go home?”
“Yes. I have some other business there and I should tell my mother I am not dead.”
“Indeed, she will want to know. I can certainly get you a berth on the next tide.”
“I need a cabin.”
His bushy eyebrow rose considerably. “A cabin?”
“Yes, I am taking my wife with me.”
“Your wife? Well then, that might be a little harder to organize but I will see what I can do. When did you have time to get married?”
“Yesterday, before we left for Cadiz.”
“Good lord, Markham. Is she pregnant?” Frankston asked in surprise.
“Not that I know of.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I fell in love. What can I say?”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” he cautioned.
“Of course I do.” He put down his drink and looked at Frankston. “I have had enough of this life.”
“Well then. Congratulations.” He raised his glass. “I never imagined you settling down. She must be some woman.”
“She is. So, can you get us a cabin?”
“I will do my best.”
“Thank you, Frankston. I appreciate your help.”
“One other thing you should probably know,” he said, downing his drink. “Stafford is dead.”
Thomas sat forward in his chair. “Dead? How?”
“I will let the new spymaster explain all.”
“Who is the new spymaster?”
“A friend of yours, I believe, a Lord Anthony Ashton.”
“Ashton? Spymaster? Well, I am surprised,” he said.
“As we all were. Not that he isn’t a good man, just don’t know him.”
As far as nominees for Stafford’s replacement, Thomas would not have thought Ashton would be in the running, but thinking about it, he was a good fit. “He is a good man. You can trust him.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“I will contact you in a few days. Enjoy your honeymoon while it lasts,” Frankston said with a wink.
“Thank you. This is the hotel I am staying at.” He handed him a coded message. They shook hands, and Frankston led Thomas back downstairs. He stayed for another drink and then made his way back to the hotel. Elena was asleep, so he undressed and slipped beside her, gathering her up in his arms, and slept.
The next day, Thomas took Elena to the Plaza San Juan de Dios, where all the traders sold their wares in a huge market. He held on to Elena’s hand as a pretty woman could be pulled away easily in such a crowded place. It was almost overwhelming, the smells of vibrant spices and seafood, the colors of the strange vegetables and fruits, not to mention the silks and wool. The sounds of every language swirling about them were enough to make one dizzy. His ears strained to hear French accents, and he made sure he only spoke to Elena in Spanish. He did not want any run-ins with any of Dushard’s ilk. Here, Elena found almost every exotic spice and was able to get all the herbs and seeds on her list.
They ate a meal of patatas bravas, a popular potato and onion dish and pescaito frito or fried fish. Once full, they made their way back to the hotel. There was a message for Thomas, so he took it and continued upstairs.