“At the moment, I’m not at all certain. I do know where I left him, however. Ah, do not look so angry, chica, or I shall have to show you what happens to naughty girls. But if you behave, you will know very soon where your husband has been. Perhaps then you can ask him how the mother of his other son is doing, eh?” He laughed when she drew in a sharp breath of outrage, and reached out to stroke her. “How lovely you are when you are angry, my butterfly. I shall miss you when I have left Mexico.”

“That will be very soon, I trust.”

“My business here is almost done. It may be more swiftly than even you hope. Now come. Put on a pretty face, so that no one will know that you are not happy to be with me. Remember what happens when you are defiant.”

She turned to gaze out the window. The streets were overflowing with people. With the lanterns lit it was beautiful, the plaza alight with laughter and music and celebration.

Would she have the opportunity to be alone with Díaz, to tell him Luna was holding her prisoner? If necessary, she would say it publicly, but she hoped that it would not come to that. It could be embarrassing for the president, as Luna was Adjutant General from Spain. There was always the chance her complaint would be treated lightly if she chose to make a public issue of it.

The palace rooms were crowded with guests, but few of them were familiar to Ginny. Her days here with Maximilian’s court were so far in the past. All traces of the French occupation were nearly gone, but a faint poignant sadness still seemed to her to shroud the rooms.

There were whispers, some of recognition, others of shock when Ginny appeared on Luna’s arm. She ignored them as she had once done. Her chin was held high, her gaze directed straight ahead. But inside, a curl of shame burned so hot and bright, that she was nearly nauseous with it. All that sustained her was the thought that perhaps she would escape from Luna before the night ended.

I will not go back to that house with him! He will have to drag me screaming down the street, and I don’t think he is truly prepared to risk that. Surely, there is someone here who can help me?

But hope dwindled, for in the crush that thronged the rooms, she recognized no friendly faces, no one familiar enough that she would trust to ask for aid in escape. With her fingers lying lightly on Rafael’s arm, she floated at his side like a bronze shadow with haunted eyes.