“Señora, an unexpected pleasure to see you again. But I am afraid that you are in danger.”

“I…who are you? And what is happening? Are you with the soldiers?”

Gently but inexorably, he pulled her with him, ignoring her resistance. “Come, come, do not be afraid, for I will see that no harm comes to you.”

He spoke in the same flawless Castilian Spanish as before. It was incongruous. What was he doing out here, in this isolated village far from everything?

“No, I will not come with you!” She jerked free, taking him by surprise, so that he wheeled around and reached for her, his fingers a hard vice on her arm.

“You are being foolish, señora.”

“Hardly! I don’t know you at all, and I have no intention of going anywhere with you. My husband will be back soon, and he will see to it that I am kept safe. Now be so good as to release my arm.”

“Ah, I am afraid I cannot do that. And your husband has been unavoidably detained, I think, or he would already be here with you, is that not so? Don’t be foolish, Señora Alvarado. It will only make things worse.”

Trembling, Ginny managed to keep her voice steady as she asked again, “Who are you? You know my name, but I have not been told yours.”

He escorted her back to the posada, and she glimpsed the posadero’s face peering at them from the door as she was halted. Lanterns had been lit, and crimson and gold light illuminated a strong face, with defined mouth and high jutting cheekbones—the features of a criollo—one of the Spanish aristocrats.

“Many pardons,” he said with an exaggerated courtesy that grated on her temper. “Allow me to present myself to you. I am Rafael Luna de Gonzalez, Adjutant General to el presidente Lerdo de Tejada.”

“What do you want with me?”

“El presidente requests your presence in Mexico City, and I have come to escort you to him.”

20

It was happening to her again. Ginny sat stoically in the closed carriage that rocked over rutted roads leading to Mexico City. Luna had forced her to accompany him, and if he knew where Steve was—or if he was even still alive—he would not tell her. How infuriating that this should happen to her again!

“I will tell el presidente exactly how rude you have been,” she told Luna, who did not seem a bit bothered by the threat, “and he will see to it that you lose your commission in the army!”

He merely lifted a dark brow and smiled. “Such a fiery woman you are, señora. It is most remarkable that your passion has not faded with time.”