The Soldier's Rebel Lover

Isabella pulled a wine bottle out and slipped her hand in behind the rack covering the lower part of the wall, and he heard a small click. ‘Will you help me? You need to push that way.’

He did as she indicated, and the rack slid with ease along the wall to reveal a small wooden door. Isabella stood back to allow him through as soon as she had turned her key in the lock. He had to stoop. Holding the lamp high, he was surprised to find that this secret cellar was nearly twice the size of the one they had come through.

The bulky wooden printing press stood on three sets of trestles. It took up most of the floor space and would, when the frame holding the paper was extended, make the place very cramped indeed. A long table covered most of one wall, stacked with paper, trays of type, bottles of ink and all the other accoutrements necessary to the production of El Fantasma’s pamphlets. The press was about seven feet long and the same height in the middle, Finlay reckoned. ‘I take it you brought it in here in pieces and then assembled it,’ he said, eyeing the small doorway.

‘Estebe assisted me. It took us three nights to bring all the parts down through the cellars.’

‘It’s as well that brother of yours has his phobia,’ Finlay said. ‘Does anyone else know of this place?’

‘Not now that Papa...’ Isabella turned away, busying herself with lighting another lamp. ‘Only Estebe and I know, now that Papa is no longer with us. During the war, we stored arms here.’

‘We? You mean your father knew?’

‘Not about the printing press, that was after he— After.’ Isabella turned around, smiling sadly. ‘But the arms—yes, it was his idea to use this place. It was he who had the new door fitted.’

‘Aye, but what I meant was, did he know what you were up to?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said, with a whimsical smile. ‘My father was a very influential man, Finlay, and a very enlightened one. He had access to a great deal of privileged information, you know. How do you think El Fantasma came to be so well informed?’

‘Your father knew you were El Fantasma, the partisan! Hell’s bells, how many more of these revelations are you going to hit me with!’

Isabella laughed at his astonishment. ‘Only one more. My father was actually the original El Fantasma. All I did was act as his liaison between certain trusted guerrillas at first, and then gradually, as he became sick and as I became more...adept?—then I took over. You see, you could describe it as the family business.’

‘I doubt your brother would see it that way,’ Finlay responded drily.

Isabella’s expression hardened. ‘I told you, my father was a very enlightened man. As his son, Xavier was destined to take on the legacy of Hermoso Romero, and Papa made sure that he was fit for that purpose. Expensive schooling. The army. The management of the estate. The production of the wine. Xavier will do the same for his son. To me, Papa bequeathed El Fantasma. I do not interfere with my brother’s management of his legacy. My own legacy is none of Xavier’s concern.’

It was not so much the words as the tone in which she spoke that made Finlay’s heart sink. She sounded as he did, when giving orders. Cool, calm and utterly implacable. He wasn’t simply dealing with a woman on a mission to bring about change. Isabella’s dreams were also her father’s. How the devil was he to convince her that she had to give them up forever?

‘You will not,’ she said. ‘Persuade me to give El Fantasma up,’ she clarified, ‘if that is what you were thinking?’

‘So you’re a mind reader now, are you?’

She shrugged. ‘I know that you are not a man who countenances failure. I made it very clear yesterday that I would reject any offer of rescue, but your orders are nonetheless to rescue me, and Major Finlay Urquhart is a soldier who, I suspect, never fails to obey an order.’

‘You’re quite wrong there, lass,’ he said harshly. ‘If I hadn’t been quite so capable of insubordination, I’d be Colonel Urquhart by now, at the very least.’

Isabella spread a sheaf of pages out on the table in front of her. ‘Instead, you are the Jock Upstart—have I that right?’

‘You do.’

‘Then, they will not be so very surprised, your superiors, when you disobey this particular order,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder. ‘Once you have seen for yourself how important El Fantasma’s work is, I am hoping you will agree that they were quite misguided when they sent you here.’

So she was laying down the gauntlet. He was not surprised. Though it would have made his life a damned sight easier if she’d turned around and agreed with him, he’d have been disappointed. And maybe a wee bit sceptical, too. Isabella was not the type to simply roll over. ‘I’m afraid it is you who are misguided, lass,’ Finlay said, shaking his head.

‘No,’ Isabella said firmly. ‘No, you will not ever persuade me to that way of thinking, so instead I must persuade you to think differently. Come, see for yourself.’