The Spanish Marriage Read Online Free PDF

from him. “I too have done some nursing in my
time.”
    Thea was entertained by the spectacle before her: Matlin said
nothing, kept as still as possible, and eyed the blade being plied at his chin
while Mother Beatriz went cheerfully about her task.
    “There,” she said at last. “When a man
wishes to be shaved, hija, he is healing. Now, will you introduce me to
our guest?”
    Thea blushed under the Superior’s kind, ages-wiser
tone and made Matlin’s name known to the nun.
    “Siir Dooglath....” Mother Beatriz tried,
lisping the D and S sounds hopelessly. “I think, if you do not much mind,
Señor, I will call you by your family name. Mathleen.”
    Matlin blinked at her pronunciation, then smiled and nodded
agreeably.
    “Good. Niña, I wish you would go to the
anteroom and wait for Sister Juan to come.” It was not a request. Disgruntled
at being so summarily dismissed from what had been her place, Thea left
the room, glancing regretfully behind her. She settled herself ungracefully on
a stool in the anteroom and watched for Sister Juan on the path from the garden
gate. She found that by keeping very still she could hear all that Mother
Beatriz said, and most of Matlin’s replies.
    “I know this is a danger to you and your House,
sheltering a stranger, an enemy to your country,” he was saying.
    “There are enemies and enemies, Señor. The French are supposed
to be our friends, but you strike me as a safer guest than any of Bonaparte’s
men. Besides, this is the house of God; there are no enemies here,” the
Superior finished sententiously. “But truly an enemy? I do need to ask,
Señor, what an Englishman is doing, in these days, in Spain, with a bullet
wound across his forehead; so Sister Juan Evangelista tells me.”
    In the other room Thea started; she had not realized that.
    “You may rest assured, Mother, I am a very harmless
visitor. If I cannot speak kindly of your country, it is because some of your
Spanish soldiery did not recognize my, uh, harmlessness. I will swear to you—on
your Blessed Virgin, if you like—that I was here to inspect my
uncle’s vineyards in Malaga and nothing more.”
    “An oath will not be necessary, Señor. Surely, you are
not a Catholic?”
    “My mother was, ma’am.” Although Thea
could not see him she could picture his smile, the air of rueful confession. She would never have escaped a lecture from Mother Beatriz for such an
off-handed reply, but he went on untroubled.
    “April of ’08? Then I have been a guest of your
country for almost fifteen months and in custody in Madrid for nearly a year of
that time.”
    “You were released?” The Superior’s tone
was nearly as dry as his own had been moments before. “I did not think
so. You escaped?”
    “During the celebrations after your King Carlos’
abdication in favor of Fernando. My jailers got a trifle careless and I saw my
chance. It was not,” he paused, “not entirely without incident.”
    “Whence the wound in your head. I see. And now, Señor?”
    “Back to England, if I can make my way to Portugal and
the coast. I had some friends when I passed through last time, although by this
time....”
    “Time and plenty to worry about your friends when you
are stronger, Señor.”
    Thea had forgotten to watch the path outside the cottage
door as she listened. Now Sister Juan and Sister Ana stood in the doorway
watching her as she, quite obviously, eavesdropped. “Señorita Cannowen,”
Sister Juan began sharply, and “Niña, listening at keyholes again?”
Sister Ana scolded. Thea rose, upsetting her stool behind her and blushing for
the second time as Mother Beatriz joined them in the anteroom.
    “Juan, you will wish to examine your patient, I think.
As for you, Dorothea, I think it is time you had a rest from your nursing.
Sister Ana will sit with our guest for a while.” At Thea’s
transparent mutiny she only smiled. “I did not say that you may not sit
with Señor Mathleen again, child, only