The Promise by T. J. Bennett Read Free Book Online Page B

Virgin—why not? He is employed. He wishes to wed. He is handsome. Big, too.” She cupped a handful of air. “All over. Did you notice that?” she added meaningfully.
    Alonsa thought of the way he had pressed so intimately against her, and she felt her cheeks burn again.
    “I noticed,” she muttered.
    “Then what possible reason could you have to object to such a one?” Inés huffed. “I do not understand your way of thinking.” Then she stopped, paled.
    “Oh, but of course … you mourn for Martin. Forgive me.”
    Alonsa sighed and dropped her gaze.
    “I wish it were due to as honorable a reason as that. No, I had no thought of Martin when I refused Günter’s offer.” She turned away, drawing her arms around her. “At least, not in the way you mean.”
    “Then why?” Inés asked, clearly confused.
    Why, indeed?
    Alonsa longed to tell Inés the truth. She had no one else to confide in. Inés had become the nearest thing to a friend she had in the camp.
    As a matter of discipline and for her own protection, after Alonsa’s husband had died, it became necessary for her to hire a companion to reside in her tent on a nightly basis until Martin could escort her back home to Toledo. It violated camp regulations for a decent woman to stay alone. Otherwise, some soldier might be tempted to mistake her for a whore, force his attentions on her, and have to walk the gauntlet as a result.
    Therefore, Alonsa had asked Inés, who had served Martin before their betrothal, and who had to find a new master or leave the camp, to move in with her as a chaperone. Alonsa wearied of having to constantly speak the guttural German tongue, and being with someone who spoke her own more melodic language reminded her of the home she longed to see once more. In addition to assisting her, Inés hired out her laundry and cooking skills to the bachelor soldiers who had no woman in the baggage train.
    Despite the differences in their stations, Inés and Alonsa had developed a grudging respect for one another. Each recognized in the other a core of steel few men knew could exist in such fragile form. Why not confide in her? Inés could be trusted to keep her counsel.
    Alonsa took the other woman’s work-worn hands in her own.
    She stared into Inés’ soft gray eyes. “I will tell you. But you must swear never to speak of it to anyone else.”
    Inés arched an eyebrow at Alonsa’s urgency, but she did not blink.
    “I swear it. Now, tell me what secret blinds you to the charms of the most handsome man in camp?”
    Alonsa nodded, took a deep breath, and told the market woman the tragic tale of Miguel.

    Sometime later, Inés sat next to Alonsa on her pallet, legs tucked under her skirts, completely involved in Alonsa’s recollections. The dark summer night of death so long ago seemed to linger in the crisp morning air. It took Inés a moment to realize Alonsa had ceased to speak.
    “Dear God.” Inés took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it from the visions Alonsa had created. “What happened then? What did your father do?”
    Alonsa clasped her hands together in front of her, the purple shadows under her eyes making her appear even more fragile than usual.
    “That was the worst of it. I expected to be punished, to be whipped even, for my disobedience. I had tempted a man, driven him to madness, and caused his very death.” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her small frame. “I deserved every justice Papa had the right to administer, but he did nothing. He just … looked at me with those sad and weary eyes and turned away. The next day, the gypsies were all gone. They had left in the night, Papa later told me. I think they knew. They never returned.”
    “What of the man you were to wed?” Inés asked.
    Alonsa let out a sigh.
    “Two days later, my intended broke the betrothal. Perhaps there were rumors … I do not know. I know only I felt relieved. I was afraid … afraid to be touched, afraid to be loved by