Tessa sat at her kitchen table watching Marta as she kneaded the evening's bread. The other woman was older than Tessa, with long curly dark brown hair, and amber brown eyes. The Gypsy, though Tessa's servant, was much more than that. Marta had been a mother to Tessa when her father, the late Don Rafael, had sent Tessa to Spain at the age of twelve to be properly educated. She had returned to California with Tessa after the death of her father the previous year.

"How was your trip into town?" Marta asked curiously.

"It was interesting." Tessa had a distracted look on her face.

"Oh, how so? Though I'm sure from the look on your face, Dr. Helm was somehow involved." Marta smiled knowingly.

"Don't tease, Marta! You know it's the Queen he cares for, not me." She slumped in her chair. "I wish I could tell him the truth, and not play the part of a woman he barely notices, let alone respects." The young woman sighed dejectedly.

Marta brushed her hands off on her apron, coming to sit next her. "You could tell him. You know you can trust him. Why put yourself through this pain, Tessa?"

"I can't. I won't put him in even more danger than he is already from aiding the Queen. Montoya was fully prepared to have him killed last winter, and it wouldn't take much to put Robert back in his sights. And now, it's even more vital to keep him safe."

"Why now?"

"I told you my trip into town was interesting. I was walking with Dr. Helm, and when we arrived at his office, there was a woman waiting for him; his sister."

"His sister? How can that be? Didn't you tell me she was supposed to marry some nobleman's son in England?"

Tessa shrugged. "That's what Robert told me, but she was alone, and he introduced her as Isabelle I Helm /I ."

"What was she like?"

"She seemed pleasant enough. Pretty, about Vera's height, very fair, with her brother's eyes and chin."

"But not his nose?" Marta asked, a twinkle in her eye.

That got a laugh from Tessa. "No, not his nose."

"That's probably just as well, don't you think? While it's a fine nose for the very handsome doctor, I'm sure it's best suited to a man."

"Marta!" Tessa exclaimed in amused outrage.

"What? It's true!"

Tessa just shook her head. "We should invite them to dinner, don't you think? Help her to adjust to living here, so she won't feel isolated. Santa Elena is a far cry from London."

"Mmmm... And to have an entire evening to yourself with Dr. Helm," Marta said with a smug smile, "wouldn't be a hardship either, would it?"

Tessa just sniffed and Marta's smile grew wider.

Robert poured wine into Isabelle's glass. They had finished their lunch and had moved to the walled courtyard of the adobe. The back of the building, with its own entrance, housed his office and exam room; the front contained his private quarters. In the center was the courtyard, with its private entrance to the street outside.

The courtyard was tiled, with a cistern, summer kitchen, an herb garden, and a few small citrus trees. Under the bougainvillea covered pergola where they now sat was a small table and a few chairs. The afternoon sun had warmed the air, and the walls surrounding them protected them from the cool spring breeze.

Isabelle sipped her wine tentatively. "This is lovely," she said with some surprise.

Robert laughed. "Believe it or not, California isn't quite the end of the world. It has its charms." His sister didn't look like she quite believed him. "It's from the Hidalgo Hacienda," he added. "I'll have to introduce you to Senora Hidalgo. She's about your age, and I think you might get on with her."

Though she nodded, it was clear she wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. "That would be lovely, I'm sure."

Taking her hand, he squeezed it gently. "I'm glad you're here, Isabelle." And he was. One of his greatest regrets was leaving her behind in England. But their father had practically disowned him when he'd resigned his commission. Had told him to never set foot in the family home again. And Robert hadn't. But if he was being brutally honest, he'd been too wrapped up in his own pain to give as much thought to the young sister he'd left behind as he should have. He swore to himself in that moment that he would make it up to her.

"I am too," she whispered, blinking back tears. She brushed at her eyes angrily. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry!"

"You're allowed, you know."

"No! I've shed more than enough tears. I'm done!"

"If you change your mind, I have a hankie," he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

The ghost of a smile brushed her lips and she nodded. Beyond the walls, the sounds of horses and the chatter of bypassers could be heard, and in the trees of the garden, the small sounds of birds. "It's very peaceful here. Hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago I was aboard ship, anxious about what might await me."

Then she looked her brother square in the eye. "It's gone Robert, all of it: the house, the land, the entire contents of the estate. You may have the title now, but I'm afraid there's nothing left to go with it."

Taking a gulp of his wine, he stared off into the distance. "I never wanted the title. It should have been Andrew's, never mine. I had no interest in it then, I have none now."

"I know." She sighed. "I knew things were bad, but it wasn't till after father died that I realized the extent. After the back taxes were paid and his gambling debts settled, there was nothing left. They let me keep some personal items, but they even took mother's sapphire necklace, the one grandmother gave her on her wedding day. Worse, they took the portrait of mother wearing the necklace. You remember the one?"

"I do. You used to spend hours looking at it as a child."

"Since I never knew her, it was my only connection to her. I think I believed that her spirit looked down on me from that painting. Silly, I know."

"Not silly," he protested. "Perfectly understandable. I don't know if it will make you feel the loss any less, but, Isabelle, if you want to see mother, you have only to look in the mirror. You look so much like her."

"Do I honestly?" A real smile appeared this time. "Thank you, Robbie, for telling me that."

"It's only the truth, dearest."

He poured them both more wine. "Was money the reason you didn't marry James Sunderland? The letter you sent with the book last Christmas didn't say, only that the engagement had been called off."

Nodding, she explained, "When James' family discovered there was not the agreed upon dowry, they broke off the engagement."

"I'm sorry. I remember how I felt when Camilla's family refused to let her marry me." The memory of that day was a bitter one still.

"Don't be. Unlike you, I didn't love my intended, and he didn't love me. It was an arrangement between our families, nothing more. Oh, we were fond of one another, I suppose, and he would have been an agreeable enough husband, but nothing more."

"Still, you didn't deserve the humiliation!" he protested vehemently.

"It's all right, Robbie, truly. The last year has been instructive in regards to swallowing one's pride. I feel quite virtuous now!"

"You are too good, Isabelle."

"Nonsense! You'll find I'm still as stubborn and headstrong as ever I was. And rather vain as well," she finished primly.

"I'm pleased to hear it!"

"I will remind you of that the first time I fail to heed your counsel and you're cross with me."

"I'll try and remember that." After sipping some more of his wine, he said, "So, the Sunderland's broke off the engagement?"

"Yes, and they sent James' oldest brother to do the deed. You remember Everett, don't you? Everett broke the news, and he seemed most discomfited that I was there, but father had insisted. And of course, father blamed me for it. Flew into a rage, telling me if I'd been a proper lady with any accomplishments whatsoever the lack of a dowry would not have mattered." She didn't meet her brother's gaze.

All good humour was now erased from his face. Clenching his fists, he asked softly, "Then what happened?"

She swallowed, looking down at her hands clasped on the table in front of her. "Everett tried to assure him that the fault was not with me, but that just made it worse. He hurled horrible accusations before taking me by the wrist, breaking it before Everett was able to intervene. He was appalled and at the same time relieved, I think, that his brother had escaped marriage into such a family." Her voice was deceptively calm as she recounted the circumstances of her broken engagement and all that followed.

There was inarticulate snarl of grief and rage from her brother. She placed her hands over his clenched fists. "I couldn't tell you that in a letter, Robbie. How could I? There was nothing you could do for me so far away. I didn't want to add to your burdens."

He bowed his head. "I have failed you, as I did Andrew before you."

"I won't hear such talk, Robert Helm!" She shook his hands. "It is in the past, all of it. You were no more responsible for Andrew's death on the field of battle than you are for my treatment at our father's hands. So stop it this instant! Do you hear?"

"I had forgotten just how bossy you could be." He brushed a curl of russet hair from her face. "I promise you, things will be different from now on."

Isabelle raised her glass. "To the future."

Robert tapped his glass against hers. "The future."

An emergency involving a man who had punctured his foot with a pitchfork interrupted Isabelle's explanation of just how she'd ended up in California. In a way, she was grateful for the reprieve. Robert was not going to like how her passage had been paid for. One thing she was sure hadn't changed about her brother's personality, and that was his temper. It had always gotten him into trouble in the past, and she was willing to bet that it still did.

She looked around the room that was to be hers here in this strange land. It was small, but neat, the walls plastered a gleaming white. The sparse furnishings and decorations made it clear that the room was has it had been when Robert had taken residence, and had never been used.

It took but a short time to empty her trunk, placing her few belongings in the drawers and clothes cabinet. Then she sat on the bed, staring at the wall. What on earth was she doing here, throwing her fate to the winds and coming to this wild and untamed land? She gave herself a mental shake. It was far too late now for second thoughts or regrets. The die was already cast and there was no taking it back.

"And that concludes our tour of Santa Elena," Robert declared grandly, squeezing her arm. "What do you think?"

Isabelle paused momentarily before replying. "It was... short."

"Yes, well, what Santa Elena lacks in size, it more than makes up for in atmosphere," Robert assured her with a grin.

"I'll have to take your word for it!"

After Robert had finished with his patient, it had nearly been time for supper, so he'd suggested a 'grand tour' of the pueblo. After, they would go to the hotel for dinner. Isabelle had been more than willing to go along with his plan. She had done her best during their walk not to gawk at the unfamiliar surroundings like a gormless country girl, but it was so very different from England! Everyone she had been introduced to so far had been warm and welcoming, and the nervous anticipation that had gnawed at her over the last many months was slowly fading away.

Robert led her up to the wooden deck in front of the hotel. "Trust me, Isabelle, it will seem familiar one day; perhaps not the comforting familiarity of home, but comforting nonetheless."

"If I am with you, dearest Robert, it will always seem like home." She rested her head against his shoulder. This was indeed a strange place, but being reunited here with her beloved brother, from whom she had been so long apart, made it worth it.

Their brief moment of tranquility was shattered by a voice. "I see it is true!"

Robert's hand tightened ever so imperceptibly around her arm. "And what would that be, Colonel?" he asked as the man came into sight.

He wasn't as tall as her brother, but he had a commanding presence. Impeccably dressed and groomed, he seemed almost incongruous in their present surroundings. And Isabelle needed no words to tell her that Robert did not like him one bit.

"Why, the presence of your lovely visitor," the man exclaimed. "The news is all around town, Dr. Helm's mystery woman."

He turned his attention to Isabelle and she found herself quite taken aback by his eyes. Not brown as she would have expected, but steel blue, like the eyes of a wolf. And something told her he was just as dangerous.

Then he was introducing himself. "Colonel Luis Ramirez Montoya, at your service."

She extended her hand as Robert said, "Colonel, allow me to present my sister, Isabelle Catherine Pembroke Helm."

Montoya bowed over her gloved hand, briefly raising it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Senorita Helm." He held her hand for another beat before releasing it.

"Likewise," she responded politely.

"Indeed, I would have never believed such beauty in a woman could exist outside Spain. Your arrival here is like a beautiful rose being added to a bouquet of mere wildflowers here in our savage land."

Delighted, she smothered a grin. For the first time since leaving England, she finally felt like she was standing on solid ground. This was a game she knew how to play.

Isabelle quirked a brow. "I must say, Colonel, to discover that such a charming gentleman could exist outside of England is a pleasant, though a rather surprising, revelation." She smiled demurely, hearing Robert choke back laughter behind her.

This time, the smile on Montoya's face reached his eyes. "Then it has been a fine day, Senorita, when both of us of us can say we have learned something new, no?"

She nodded her agreement, matching his smile. "A fine day indeed, Colonel."

"I hope that you will be staying for a time here in our humble pueblo?"

This time it was Robert who answered. "My sister will be living with me for the foreseeable future."

She glanced up at her brother, then back at Montoya. "Robert is a compassionate man, Colonel, taking in his destitute sister in her hour of need. No woman could have a kinder or more loving brother."

Montoya looked as if he were enjoying some private joke. "Indeed, Senorita Helm, your brother's compassionate nature and kind heart are the stuff of legend here in Santa Elena. Though he's far too modest to tell you that himself."

"Yes, well, modesty is a virtue, Colonel," Robert said wryly.

He smirked. "So I have heard." Bowing to Isabelle, he said, "But I have kept you long enough. Doctor, Senorita, enjoy your dinner."

"You were right," Isabelle told her brother as Montoya walked away. "Santa Elena is just brimming with atmosphere!"

"You seemed to enjoy that," he observed.

"I did indeed."

"But 'destitute sister'? That was a bit much, wasn't it?"

"It's the truth! I am destitute. I did tell you, Robert, that I have little enough pride left these days. And I know how people talk. I don't want people making the incorrect assumption that I'm some sort of English heiress. I'd rather that any gentleman who might exhibit an interest knows from the outset that there is no money to be had."

"Fair enough; but lack of a dowry isn't necessarily an impediment to a good marriage here. Not to someone of Montoya's rank, of course. Though even were he the richest man in all of California, I wouldn't let him within ten yards of you," he said darkly.

"I gathered there was not much love lost between you and the Colonel," she told him.

"That would be one way to put it. However, there's no need to ruin our supper with such talk." He opened the door for her, telling her as they entered, "There are few women here, and many Dons with younger sons who would find you perfectly suitable as a wife to any one of them. Not that I want you to ever feel as if you must marry, Isabelle." He took her hands, turning her to face him. "No more arranged loveless engagements. If you marry, I want it to be for love. It's the only thing you deserve."

She took a deep breath. She had felt as if she should marry so as not to be a burden to her brother. She didn't relish the thought of being the spinster sister, dependent on her brother and resented by his wife as an intruder in their home. But she liked the thought of marrying another James Sunderland even less.

Reaching up, she kissed him on the cheek. "You truly are the best of brothers."