All throughout the afternoon and during dinner, her mind was in chaos as she tried to make a decision about the Count's proposal. Different scenarios kept playing out before her mind's eye – of a house under the Spanish sun, of children running around in the garden, of a husband lying next to her in bed. Over and over, a question kept posing itself to her: did she love him? On the one hand, she knew this was a crucial matter, but on the other hand, did it really matter? Did it matter, as long as she liked him and he could give her a better future than she had any chance of having now? The mental turmoil made her headache worse, and she kept taking laudanum regularly throughout the day to keep it in check. Why couldn't she come to a decision? For some reason, it was very hard to think today. Before dinner, she decided to pack a bag anyway, counting on being able to make a decision when she saw him again, and wanting to be prepared in case she wanted to go with him.

At dinner, Elena asked her if she was alright, and she almost confided in her friend. She knew Elena was open-minded and wouldn't insist that Raquel should honor her marriage vows, but she also knew that her friend had never really liked the Count, and she was almost certain that she'd try to dissuade her. No… this was her decision to make, and she would have to make it alone. After dinner, she went to the drawing room with her bag to wait for him, conflicting thoughts running through her mind: her husband didn't love her and he never would – she would have to leave behind everything she knew, her friends, her family – she wouldn't have to spend life as spinster, she would know warmth, and companionship, and love in all its forms – she would be breaking her marriage vows. Again and again, she had to push away thoughts of Sergio – oh, why couldn't she just forget him? And again and again, she returned to that central question: did she love Alberto? When he rang the doorbell and came up, she still hadn't made up her mind.

She stood up as he entered the room, and he came close to her.

"So… what's your answer?"

She felt so conflicted, and why couldn't she think more clearly?

"I… I don't know Alberto, I'm sorry."

She put a hand to her forehead, trying to rub away the ache there, while taking the little bottle of laudanum out of her pocket without thinking about it. He took it from her.

"Let me", he murmured, and poured a few drops into her tea.

He sat down in the chair next to her and started talking to her, quietly but insistently, telling her how much he loved and adored her, how he wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children, painting a picture of their life together. He was saying all the right things, and as the minutes passed, she could feel the laudanum begin to work and her headache disappeared, together with her resistance to the idea of running away with him. Why had she been doubting? She felt happy. She looked at him. He made her happy. Didn't he?

"I think you want to come with me, Raquel", he said persuasively.

Yes, yes this was what she wanted.

"Alright", she whispered, and he took her hand and kissed it.

"You're making me the happiest man in the world."

He stood up and picked up her bag.

"Let's waste no time, let's go immediately."

She took his outstretched hand and he pulled her to her feet, then she followed him out of the drawing room, down the stairs and into a waiting carriage. She heard him yell an address to the coachman, and then he was beside her and they were off. She watched Elena's house dwindle into the distance, and she knew this was a momentous decision she'd made, but for some reason, she felt perfectly calm.

…

Elena heard the doorbell from her study and frowned. The Count was calling very late today. There was still something about that man that she didn't like, and she wished her friend wouldn't feel so drawn to him, but she was a big believer in not interfering in other people's personal business. It wasn't unusual for separated couples to take lovers – true, it was usually the man who took the lover, but Elena didn't see why Raquel didn't have every right to do the same if that's what she wanted. So no, Elena did not feel like it was her place to interfere, no matter how much she wished she could kick the Count out of her house – there was no accounting for a woman's individual taste when it came to men, and it was true that the Count was very charming. Elena could see how other women might fall for that.

Time went on as she reviewed the accounts of one of her charities, and she heard carriage wheels outside. Good, that meant he was gone. She sighed and pushed the accounts away, and finally turned her attention to the mountain of correspondence that her footman had placed on her desk, and which she'd been ignoring for three days. She reached out a hand and started sifting through the letters one by one, only to perk up when she saw one with a Spanish postmark. An answer, finally! She opened the letter and started reading it, and her eyes widened in alarm. The moment she read the last line, she jumped up and rushed down the stairs to the drawing room, but Raquel wasn't there anymore. She turned around and went up to her friend's bedroom, but there was no answer to her knocking, and when she pushed open the door, she saw that the room was empty, and she felt herself go cold. No, no it couldn't be.

She returned to the drawing room and urgently rang the bell for her footman, and a moment later the man appeared and bowed.

"Where is Lady Marquina?" she asked him immediately.

"She left a while ago with Count Vicuña."

"Were you at the door when they left?"

"Of course."

"Did you hear him give directions to the coachman?"

The footman nodded and repeated what he had heard, and Elena froze – that was the name of an inn, and she knew what that meant. The Count had taken her friend away, and after what she'd read in that letter, she had no doubts about what his intentions were. But there was still hope: she knew that inn – and she knew who lived close by.

"Saddle my horse!" she said, then rushed upstairs to change into her riding clothes.

She could only pray she wouldn't be too late.

…

She fell asleep during the ride, and when she woke up, she felt a little confused. Then her eyes fell on Alberto sitting next to her, and suddenly she felt a stab of worry. Had she really agreed to run away with him? Was that really what she wanted?

He noticed that she was awake and took her hand.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

"I'm… I'm not sure."

"You're tired. Don't worry, we're almost at the inn, then you can sleep."

And yet, as they drove on, she started to feel less and less tired as her head slowly cleared. Her headache returned, but strangely enough, the stronger it became, the clearer she could think – yet somehow, she still couldn't remember what had made her decide to go with Alberto – to leave without telling Elena where she was going – without even taking a coat against the autumn cold.

Before she could really make sense of the matter, the carriage stopped at an inn at the side of the road. Alberto helped her out, then led her inside. He exchanged a few words with the innkeeper, then came back to Raquel.

"They have a room left", he smiled.

She frowned.

"Two rooms, you mean? We aren't married yet."

"Of course", he said smoothly, then took her by the elbow and steered her up the stairs.

The room was clean and spacious, and Raquel immediately went over to the fire that was blazing in the grate, shivering in her light dress. Only when he closed the door did she notice that he'd entered the room with her, and she felt a sudden stab of unease. It was one thing to be alone with him in Elena's drawing room, but another thing entirely to be alone with him in a bedroom.

"What are you doing?" she asked apprehensively, but he gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's alright", he said, moving closer to her. "I just want to talk for a bit."

…

Sergio was sitting in front of the fire in the library, playing chess. The house was completely silent… as it had been for months. Suddenly he looked up as he heard the sound of horse hooves on the gravel outside – it was late to get a visitor, but his brother had a tendency to drop in at unusual hours, and unannounced, so he didn't get up when he heard knocking on the door – the footman would let him in. But then the library door burst open, and Lady Godfrey entered the room like a storm.

"Marquina!" she said. "We need to talk."

He got up and blinked at her in confusion.

"Lady Godfrey", he bowed, remembering his manners. "To what do I owe the…"

"No time for pleasantries!" she said. "Your wife has left with Count Vicuña."

He felt himself go cold. No, no, this couldn't be true.

"Don't just stand there!" Elena snapped at him. "Go after her, man!"

He hesitated, then shook his head. It cost him all of his will-power, but he managed to say:

"My… my wife has made it clear that she no longer wants to live with me. She… she can go with whomever she wants… I don't want to stand in the way of her happiness."

Lady Godfrey nodded impatiently.

"Yes, well, that was my opinion as well until a few hours ago. But there's something you need to know about the Count."

She drew a letter out of her pocket and held it out to him.

"He's done this before."

…

"This isn't proper", Raquel said, taking a step back, but Alberto was still smiling.

"It's alright", he repeated, in the kind of soothing tone that she would use to calm a skittish horse. "We're as good as married."

"But we aren't."

"Does it really matter?" he murmured, taking off his coat, then unhooking the guns from his belt and putting them on the table. "I promise I'll take you to a church tomorrow, you can give a false name, and we'll get properly married."

He came to stand close to her, and the way he was looking at her left no doubt in her mind about why he was in this room with her. She swallowed.

"Then… then can't we wait one more day, before…"

"Why wait?" he whispered. "It's only a formality, Raquel. In our hearts, we're already married, aren't we?"

She hesitated, but he didn't stop talking.

"You're so beautiful", he murmured, raising a hand to stroke her cheek. "Let me show you how much I adore you. How much I love you."

She still felt unsure as he came to stand close behind her and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes. She knew this was her only chance to have the life she always thought she'd have, so she didn't resist as he slowly started undoing the buttons at the back of her dress.

"You don't know how long I've dreamed of this", he murmured in her ear.

She felt herself begin to tremble, but this was part of it, of the life she wanted, and… and Sergio would never love her like this.

Sergio.

The image of him suddenly rose before her eyes, clear as day – Sergio, bowing to her after she had accepted his proposal. You honor me.

Sergio, giving her one of his shy smiles.

Sergio, sleeping next to Delia.

She gasped as her head suddenly cleared completely and she realized with breathtaking clarity that she couldn't do this – she couldn't go with Alberto – she didn't love him. She couldn't forget Sergio… no matter how hard she'd tried. He was her husband, and she wouldn't break that vow.

"No", she whispered, and then her voice grew stronger. "No, I don't want this!"

She stepped away from him, but he followed her, still with that reassuring smile on his face.

"It's perfectly proper, Raquel, really. And I promise it won't hurt."

"No", she said. "I'm sorry, Alberto, but I can't go with you. I… I don't know what came over me earlier, I wasn't thinking straight. Please… take me back to London."

The smile disappeared from his face.

"Raquel, think about what you're saying. We love each other. We're going to get married."

"I'm sorry", she said, steeling herself. "But I can't do it. I can't be your wife, I'm already someone's wife."

"Someone who doesn't care for you!"

"I know", she said, drawing herself up. "But I still made a promise and I intend to keep it."

A darkness appeared in his face that she'd never seen there before.

"No."

She frowned.

"What?"

"No. I'm not letting you go."

She shook her head.

"I've made my decision, Alberto. I'm sorry I let things come this far."

"Yes", he said, stepping closer to her again. "Things have come too far, Raquel, you can't just change your mind now."

"I can change my mind", she said, annoyed. "We're not married yet."

She could see that he was getting angry now, and she was starting to feel uncomfortable.

He took another step forward.

"Raquel, I'm not letting you go."

She took a step back and bumped into the table. He came even closer, but before he could reach her, she'd turned and snatched one of his pistols off the table, cocked it, and aimed it straight at his chest – exactly the way he'd taught her.

He froze.

"You stay right there", she said steadily, though her heart was beating fast.

He slowly raised his hands.

"Now, Raquel, don't do anything stupid."

"I won't have to as long as you stay where you are."

He hesitated, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Remember the weather vane, Count. I won't miss."

"Think about it, Raquel", he said, shaking his head. "Where are you going to go? It's the middle of the night. My coachman won't take you anywhere without me, and the first public carriage won't come by until morning."

"I don't care", she said angrily. "I'll spend the night in the forest if I have to."

"Raquel", he said soothingly, raising his hands again, "you love me. You know you do. Put down the gun, and we can forget all about this."

He started moving closer to her again, very slowly, and she tightened her grip on the pistol, her heart beating painfully fast.

"Don't make me shoot you!"

He didn't take his eyes off her as he kept coming closer. "I don't think you will."

Oh god, oh god, he was so close now. Her heart was racing, but her hands were steady.

"Stay back!" she said, but he only put another step forward – one more step and he would be able to take the gun from her.

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

"Vicuña", a voice suddenly sounded from the doorway. "Step away from my wife."

Her heart leapt at the sound of that voice, and she turned to see Sergio stepping into the room. Sergio. She couldn't believe it.

The Count took a step back and looked Sergio up and down with a look of distaste.

"I assume you're Lord Marquina. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take my wife home." He turned to look at Raquel. "If… if she wants to come."

"Yes", she said immediately. "Sergio, there's another pistol on the table behind me."

He picked it up, then came to stand beside her and pointed the second gun at the Count too. It was strange to see him with a gun – it didn't feel right – but like any nobleman he'd been taught to hunt when he was younger, and his aim was steady.

"Are you alright?" he asked her urgently, and she nodded.

"Yes. But I want to get out of here. Let's go."

"One thing first", he said, straightening up and squaring his shoulders as he addressed the Count. "You abducted my wife, and damaged her honor. I can't let that stand."

Raquel looked at him. What was he saying?

The Count sneered.

"Really, Marquina? You don't seem like the type."

Sergio didn't waver.

"I will protect my wife's honor. I demand satisfaction."

What was happening?

The Count nodded, an expression of disdain on his face.

"Fine. Name your time and place, I'll be there."

"Tomorrow at dawn, on the heath outside the village."

"The bullet or the blade?"

"Pistols."

"What are you talking about?" Raquel said, alarmed. She knew well enough, she just didn't want to believe it.

"Your husband wants to duel me", the Count said lightly. "As is his right."

Raquel turned to Sergio.

"No, you can't! Call it off!"

He didn't take his eyes off the Count.

"No."

"Sergio!"

He shook his head and merely said:

"We can discuss this later. Let's go home."

They started moving towards the door, keeping their pistols pointed at the Count, who watched them go with a stony expression.

"I'm going to needs those pistols tomorrow, Marquina."

"I'll bring them to the meeting place", Sergio said calmly. "I will see you at dawn."

Then he closed the door on the Count, and they rushed down the stairs together and out of the inn, where his horse was waiting. The moment they were outside, he turned to her, his eyes full of concern.

"Are you sure you're alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No", she said, feeling light-headed with relief as she took deep breaths of the cold night air. "You came in just in time."

He gave her a warm look.

"It seems to me like you had the situation under control already."

She looked up at him. She couldn't believe it – she couldn't believe that he was here, that he had come to find her. How had he even known? She had so many questions, but they would have to wait. She was shaking, though she wasn't sure if it was with emotion or cold. He noticed and shrugged out of his coat, then draped it around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry", he said, "we'll have to ride to the house on horseback. I had to hurry and the carriage would have been too slow."

"It's alright", she said, huddling gratefully into the coat, which was warm with his body heat. "I just want to go home."

"I can take you back to London tomorrow, but it's too far for tonight…"

"I didn't mean London", she said softly. "I want to go home."

He gave her a look that she couldn't quite interpret in the dark, then he nodded.

"Of course. You'll have to sit behind me on the horse, I'm afraid."

She looked up at the tall horse.

"Well, you'll have to help me up."

He hesitated, then stepped closer.

"Uhm… may I?"

"Yes", she said, suppressing a smile, then he put his hands around her waist and carefully lifted her onto the horse. A moment later, he jumped up into the saddle before her and took the reins.

"Hold on", he said.

She felt a little breathless as she wrapped her arms around her husband for the first time. He was warm and solid and strong, and she couldn't resist – she leaned her head against his back and closed her eyes. She couldn't believe he'd come for her. She couldn't believe she was holding him. Alberto touching her had felt wrong, but this – this felt so right. She tightened her arms around him without thinking and she felt him tense for a moment, but then he relaxed and she smiled.

"Are you ready?" he murmured, looking over his shoulder.

"Yes", she breathed.

He spurred on his horse, and she held on tight as they rode off into the night.