“Señora Gongora?” Vidal wandered into the kitchen looking for a snack. The negotiations had been strenuous, and his customary clear thinking had required every ounce of his concentration. In the end, though, it seems I own a pig farm in addition to my orchards.
Claudia gave Don Vidal a disapproving look.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Why were you harsh with Rosalinda?” she demanded fiercely.
“Did she talk to you?” Good. Perhaps the matron can explain what went wrong.
“Yes,” Claudia snapped. Her wet hands left dark marks on the blue of her dress. “She fears you no longer desire her.”
Vidal drew back, startled. “What? No, that’s wrong. I was surprised. Nothing more. I didn’t mean to upset her.”
“Really?” One black eyebrow arched toward the ceiling, crinkling the woman’s forehead. “And di
