The Princess's Secret Longing. Carol Townend

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was his bathing chamber? It was fit for a prince.

      As Inigo peeled off his clothes, filthy rags he never wanted to see again, he prayed Enrique would have the sense to realise his company wasn’t wanted.

      He splashed off the worst of the filth in the washbowl before lowering himself into the pool. The water was warm and scented with sage, it felt like heaven. He closed his eyes and was easing his injured leg when a shift in the air told him someone had joined him. Hoping it was Guillen, he opened his eyes.

      Enrique stood at the edge of the pool. ‘Is Rodrigo joining us?’ he asked.

      ‘I couldn’t say,’ Inigo said, ‘I am not privy to your cousin’s plans.’

      That was a bald lie. In truth, Rodrigo was due later. However, during their captivity, Rodrigo had been unable to escape Enrique’s company and Inigo was only too conscious of how difficult he must have found it. To have been compelled, day after day, to keep the company of a man whose recklessness had led directly to the death of his beloved brother must have tested Rodrigo’s patience to the limit.

      In the interest of harmony, it would be best to get rid of Enrique before Rodrigo arrived.

      Enrique grunted, weaved his way to the couch and sat down heavily. He was holding more wine—a bottle this time—and was toying with the cork.

      Leaning against the side of the pool, Inigo probed his leg. In the battle to save Diego, one of the Sultan’s men had sliced it open. Thankfully, the wound had healed cleanly, though it still ached from time to time.

      ‘They have women here,’ Enrique said conversationally. ‘Girls seem to like you, I’m sure they will be delighted to accommodate you.’

      Inigo cleared his throat. ‘Not interested. Enrique, you must be forgetting, I am to be married soon.’

      Enrique’s lip curled. ‘You’ve been betrothed for years, that’s never stopped you before.’

      Inigo shrugged. ‘Lady Margarita and I have an understanding.’

      ‘She knows about your...flirtations?’ Enrique asked.

      ‘Aye, but we will be married shortly and all that will change.’

      ‘You’ll be faithful after you’re wed?’ Enrique sounded incredulous.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Good God, man, why? You don’t give a fig for Margarita, you never have.’

      Inigo was all too aware that his relationship with his betrothed was cool. Lady Margarita Marchena de Carmona was a cool woman, which was exactly why he was marrying her. He wanted a cool wife. An emotional woman wouldn’t suit him, such a woman would disrupt his household and destroy his peace of mind. When they were married, he would reward Lady Margarita for her calm by being a loyal husband.

      ‘I won’t shame my wife. I shall be faithful.’

      Enrique’s lip curled. ‘It’s amazing you can say that with a straight face. You’re the biggest flirt alive.’

      Inigo couldn’t deny that he liked women. It was the emotional baggage they brought with them that made him wary. He liked his relationships simple.

      ‘There will be no flirting when I am wed. It’s too much trouble otherwise.’

      Idly, Enrique watched him, and a twisted smile formed. ‘Crook your finger and those girls will come. They can dry you off. Seriously, Inigo, make the most of them while you can.’

      ‘Guillen will be back from the stables shortly, he can assist me.’ Wishing Enrique in Hades, Inigo slid deep into the water.

      Back in Castile, Enrique’s reputation with women was ugly, Inigo had heard that he had a cruel streak. Inigo had never seen Enrique with a woman, and rumours were only rumours, but having witnessed Enrique’s vicious impetuosity in battle, he feared they might be true.

      Enrique lifted the bottle and drank. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he gave Inigo an unpleasant smile. ‘I’ve been married for years and I’ve never let it interfere with the real pleasures of life.’

      ‘The real pleasures?’ Inigo smothered a yawn.

      ‘I have plans, let me tell you. I’m saving myself for later tonight.’ Enrique jerked his head towards the door. ‘Otherwise I’d avail myself of the delights here.’

      Despite the warmth of the water, Inigo felt a chill of foreboding. ‘Plans?’

      ‘I intend to avenge myself on Sultan Tariq.’

      Inigo relaxed, it was hard not to laugh. Enrique was ridiculous. Sultan Tariq was safe behind the impenetrable walls of the Alhambra Palace with innumerable soldiers answering to his command. It would take more than a lone Castilian knight with vengeance on his mind to put a dent in the Sultan’s armour. ‘Oh? How so?’ This would be interesting.

      ‘The Sultan will regret the day he made me do forced labour.’ Enrique’s eyes glittered, and a bitter torrent of words spilled out. ‘Damn it, Inigo. I am a nobleman, we are noblemen. It’s one thing for Sultan Tariq to demand a ransom for our capture, that I did expect, it’s common in war. But when he put us to breaking rocks in that gully outside the palace, he broke every rule of chivalry. The man’s a barbarian.’

      Inigo decided that an interruption might have a calming effect. ‘I don’t know, it wasn’t all bad. We saw the three Princesses up in their tower, not many can claim that. We even got to serenade them.’

      Enrique took another swig from the bottle. ‘The devil was tempting us, tempting us with his daughters.’

      ‘I don’t believe the Sultan was aware that his daughters saw us.’

      ‘That wretch knows everything, he ordered his daughters to tempt us.’

      ‘For heaven’s sake, Enrique, it was a pleasant diversion. The Princesses noticed us, pitied us and gave us food. I truly believe Sultan Tariq had no idea what was going on.’

      ‘Delude yourself all you like, the devil must have known. Nothing happens in that place without his say so. He was trying to drive us mad. Inigo, I will avenge myself for the indignities I suffered, and the Nasrid Princesses will help me.’

      ‘How so?’

      ‘I’m going back to the Alhambra Palace. I’m going to abduct them.’

      Inigo stared. Truly, Enrique was a madman. ‘Impossible.’

      Enrique gave a triumphant grin. ‘Not so, it’s all arranged. I’ve been in touch with the Princesses’ duenna. She seems to be disloyal to the Sultan.’

      ‘Seems to be?’

      ‘I admit it could be a mistake to rely on the word of a palace servant, but my honour is at stake, so I’m prepared to risk it. Inigo, this duenna claims credit for arranging for us to serenade the Princesses.’

      ‘Hang on, Enrique, you’re contradicting yourself. I thought you said that the Sultan knew what was

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