“On one of our trips to Spain about six years ago, Ace showed up in Malaga mere hours after we sent word to her, like she’d run out the door as soon as she saw our message. She arrived with a carriage like always, plus a barrel of wine and a bag of supplies.”
“We knew right away something was wrong,” said Yarrow. “Ace wasn’t herself. She pulled a bag of coins from her pocket and shook it at us.”
Yarrow held their hand aloft, shaking an invisible bag of coins.
“She said she needed a holiday. She brought extra coin, and proposed we sail for Ibiza and drink the barrel of wine she’d brought. Of course, a few days getting drunk on a beach sounded fine to the crew, and they agreed. After we loaded the tobacco onto Ace’s carriage, she sent her very confused servant away and nearly ran onto the vessel. She didn’t breathe until the coast became a distant speck on the horizon.”
“That was when she told us about the engagement,” Theo said. “Her parents had arranged for her to be married to a viscount. A fucking viscount. Newly titled. He’d just taken up residence at a neighboring estate, left to him by his late father. What began as neighborly courtesy turned into a friendship between Ace’s father and this man, and when he asked to join their families by marrying Ace, it was an offer no parent would dream of refusing. He was everything they could ever want for her—handsome, charming, rich. Titled. He could give Ace, and any children they had, everything they ever wanted or needed. Her parents could rest, could die, knowing Ace wouldn’t want for anything.”
“Ace was devastated,” Yarrow said quietly, their eyes focused on their feet. “She didn’t want a title, or land, or jewels. She wanted freedom. It was the one thing a husband could not—would never—give to her.”
Zander’s heart was no longer in his chest. It was somewhere in his feet, having sunk further with every word his friends said. It leaked out of his toes, leaving him empty as he sat on the ruined floor.
Ace had a husband. A husband. He couldn’t make sense of it.
“And she went through with it?” he asked.
“She thought about running away,” Yarrow said. “We stayed for four days in Ibiza, and she must have changed her mind a dozen times over those four days. She went back, thinking maybe she could find a way out of it. But we knew. There’s no way to refuse an offer from a man like that without causing offense.”
Zander let out a long breath.
“Not only was he higher in status than Ace’s family,” Yarrow continued, “but her father had already accepted on her behalf. Going back on his word would have jeopardized their relationship with this man, their business, everything. I think her father likely would have sacrificed all that if he knew it was what Ace really wanted. But in the end, she couldn’t bear to ask it of him.”
Zander shot to his feet, needing to move. He immediately regretted it. A sudden headache blinded him, and a wave of dizziness overcame him that made him stumble, reach out. His hand grasped the doorframe and he leaned heavily on it, breathing in short bursts to stem a sudden nausea. He felt something touch his arm, then a warm, comforting smell filled his nostrils. The nausea disappeared, and he opened his eyes to see Yarrow. The source of the smell—a small jar filled with oil—was clutched in their hand, which held it to his face.
“Thank you,” Zander said. Yarrow nodded and returned to Theo, sitting by him and intertwining their fingers with his.
Ace is married.
Zander reached down and touched the handle of Ace’s cutlass, which was attached to his belt. Then he nodded to indicate he was ready to listen again.
Theo continued.
“We weren’t sure if we would see Ace again after she was married. It’s not exactly common for a Viscountess to oversee the purchase of tobacco. So, we stayed in Spain when our crew set out for the Americas, intending to rejoin them on their return journey. We stayed in Almogia, a small town within walking distance of Ace, and easy carriage distance from her betrothed’s estate.”
“We wanted to spend as much time with her as we could,” Yarrow said. “From everything we’d heard about Lord Sanz, he wasn’t the type to socialize with seafaring folk.”
“Aye, he sounded like a right prick,” Theo said. Yarrow snorted softly, elbowing him. Theo smiled affectionately at them and continued. “Well, you know what I mean. Rich folk.” He waved his hands in a vague gesture. “In all the time he’d spent with Ace’s father, he never once addressed Ace or even looked at her, like she didn’t exist. Suddenly, he wants to marry her.” Theo made a disgusted sound, like he had a particularly annoying fly in the back of his throat.
“Over the next few weeks, Ace was tasked with getting to know her new keeper. We had the privilege of hearing every detail after the fact, as Ace would return from her fancy lunches and tea dates, rip off her dress, don her trousers, and rush to the inn we stayed at to get drunk. We got the play by play on Lord Sanz. Ignacio.” Theo spit his name like it was a curse.
“There was something off about him,” Yarrow said.
Her husband.
“Like I said, a right prick,” Theo agreed. “But yes, there was something… off. He spent most of their time together asking about Ace’s parents, about their life on the sea. He’d gotten it into his head—like most people did—that her parents had some sort of buried treasure, and he was obsessed with it.”
“It didn’t help that Chandace and Nicolas talked about it as if it were real,” Yarrow said.
“Aye, but he never asked them about it. He was all compliments and gifts and nightcaps with his new in-laws. But with Ace, he teetered between sickeningly sweet flattery and morbid interest in her parents’ secret riches. He asked all sorts of questions about their business as well, feigning interest in her skills as a businesswoman. Even when she acted crass or misbehaved, trying to get him to call off the engagement, he flattered her.”
Zander had a hard time imagining Ace being flattered. The idea of attempting something like flattery in her presence intimidated even him. Then again, she’d been young.
“Ace wanted to believe him,” Yarrow said sadly. “Sitting at the precipice of her whole life changing, she saw a glimmer of hope that her new husband would give her some freedom. Perhaps she could continue working, perhaps he would let her sail. So, she played, ever so little, into his hands. She even alluded to a treasure in their conversations, deeming it her inheritance, hers by right upon her parents’ deaths.”
“Or it would be given to her husband,” Zander said.
“Aye,” Theo said, nodding. “Although technically they didn’t consummate the marriage.”
“Two weeks before the wedding, Ace stopped showing up at the inn,” Yarrow continued. “We sent word to her after a few days, but the messenger returned with a response from her fiancé, asking us to come see him at his estate right away.”
“His estate was a sprawling thing,” Theo said, “surrounded by palms and manicured lawns and security guards. And it was the most uptight goddamn place in the world. No one, not the carriage driver, not the doorman, no one so much as looked at us as they ushered us into a gaudy sitting room, where Lord Sanz was waiting.
“‘Sit,’” Theo said, his voice dripping with condescension as he played the role of Lord Sanz. He held out his arm, gesturing in the manner Lord Sanz did, a smug, bored look painted on his face. “So, we sat. ‘I wish to speak to you about your tobacco arrangement,’ he said. ‘We usually deal with the Vidal family,’ I told him. ‘Have they retired?’
“And without looking up from his perfectly manicured nails, the bastard says, ‘In a manner of speaking, yes. They burned to death inside their home night before last. Sad business.’”
Yarrow let out a low, frustrated growl.
“Sad fucking business,” they said. “Can you believe that? Sad fucking business, indeed. The Vidals were a cornerstone of the Antequera region. A lightning bolt destroyed their legacy, a perfectly timed lightning bolt from a brief summer storm. It was as if Zeus himself had conjured it specifically for that purpose. It was a tragedy.”
“We were dumbstruck, mate,” Theo said. “For once, I had no words. ‘Where is Ace?’ Yarrow asked him. Lord Sanz said, ‘Aracely is here, in her new home, grieving. And preparing for our upcoming wedding, I imagine.’ Pfft. Then he moved on with business, telling us he’d be our ‘new point of contact’ from there on out.
“We asked if we could see her. He ignored us, gesturing to a paper on the table in front of him. ‘Here are your new terms. I look forward to seeing you when you have a new shipment of tobacco.’ And suddenly we were being ushered from the room again and pushed into a carriage.”
“So, what, he was holding Ace prisoner?” Zander asked. The anger burning in his stomach hissed and sputtered with every new revelation.
“Yes,” Yarrow said. “Essentially. She was a woman without a keeper; no one would have thought much about her fiancé keeping her close in her grief. But we got word from her that night. Rosario, one of her family’s former staff, showed up at the inn with a tiny, scrawled note in Ace’s hand. It said the ceremony had been moved up and would occur in three days’ time. It also said to meet her the night of the wedding, at midnight, behind the inn.”
