After the troubled first days Marina had in Campeche, time flowed in a smooth, mellow way that made Dolores and Alma suspicious.
"Too mellow," they would agree.
All that sudden calm kept them on edge.
The girl didn't have any problem sharing Castillano's confinement, because she felt safer in the house than out on the streets, and that patch of sea she could see from her window cheered her up when she felt like withering, away from the waves and the salty wind for so long.
As for Castillano, he seemed to have locked up not only his uniform, but also his temper. Marina had a benignant effect on his rough, bellicose ways, and the whole house was relieved with his new inclination to smile and even make jokes.
They spent most of the time together, like they never got tired of their mutual company. Alma would find them in the library during the hottest hours after lunch, sitting at the same couch, each reading a different book and not even glancing at each other, but holding hands. Doña Isabel's piano became the center of everyday moments once again, especially after dinner. Castillano enjoyed hearing Marina play, and he could spend a couple of hours just sitting near the piano, oblivious to the world, simply gazing at her as the sweet melodies she played seemed to wrap around him. He wouldn't change his attitude even the evenings Segovia had dinner with them, and he and Dolores joined them in the parlor after the desserts.
"Who knew this skittish girl would tame the famous Lion," the general said once.
Dolores nodded, watching Marina and remembering that night when she'd seen the girl chasing Castillano all over the main hall, beating the crap out of him with toy swords.
"That shows we never know what can touch our hearts," she replied.
Segovia misunderstood her mild smile and pressed her hand among the thousand folds of her dress.
Sunset would find them in the garden. They liked strolling around the flowerbeds when the heat broke, enjoying the smell of jasmines in the air. They always went hand in hand, and Marina liked to rest her head on his shoulder as they talked in whispers.
The life of Castillano's guards was easier too, thanks to his good mood. Marina and Castillano spent their days with open doors, in plain view for anyone to see. Which had the opposite effect, and made everybody around them feel awkward about invading what little privacy they could have.
So at first everybody would freeze when they found them kissing in the middle of the garden. And then everybody looked away and minded their own businesses. The soldiers, trusting Castillano wouldn't even try to break free, used to linger near the kitchen, wooing the maids, with some distracted glance now and then at the tamarind tree, or wherever they'd last seen the couple. Garrido hadn't shown up again. Dolores had told Segovia about what the soldier had done and the general replaced him that very day. That had turned the watchdogs in perfect gentlemen.
Castillano let the time pass by, avoiding any deep thought or question. He would've never believed such a simple, yet fulfilling happiness could be possible. Especially in his situation. Yet there it was. Marina was a companion like nothing he'd ever dared to dream, and being with her made him feel in such a way that he only missed the sea to make it perfect.
During the day, they shared their everyday life in harmony, and they laughed together at the surprise of those around them. And at night, while the rest of the household slept, they met in secret to vent out that part of their natures that didn't fit watchdogs, pretty dresses and witnesses.
Which Castillano admitted surely had a different meaning for the rest of world, being about a man and a woman sneaking out to meet at midnight. But he'd already come to terms with it, and accepted that not even clandestine social habits applied to Marina.
So as soon as they were sure nobody would notice, their windows opened to the garden in the dark. Marina sneaked down the cornice and the tamarind tree like they were her ship's rigging, and she met him by the wooden bench. She would wear shirt and trousers Castillano lent her in secret, and that had Alma frown when he gave them to her to wash, with traces of soil and grass.
They went to the furthest end of the garden, where they kept two swords from the arrays hidden, wrapped in cloth to avoid clashes that would give them away. And Castillano would spend a while swearing black and blue, trying in vain to defeat that nimble child that kept beating him. Marina taught him tricks and blows she'd learned from Monsieur Etienne, and he slowly improved his skill. But never enough to best her.
Finally they would drop their swords, sweaty and out of breath but feeling reinvigorated. And then would start the torture Castillano would subject himself to gladly, savoring every moment of it. Because he would take Marina in his arms. And if he didn't, it was her that threw her arms around him, seeking his lips.
Good pupil with a good master, Marina would kiss him with no hesitation or qualms, enjoying that new kind of agitation she could only appease in his lips. And he let her do, letting her go as far as she wanted, and calling on all his will to keep from pushing her further.
It was an enthralling torment he'd never experienced before. Until then, whenever he'd wanted a woman, he'd had her. The sea was a demanding, jealous master, and never gave him much time for the long, subtle rites of courting. Like any other sailor, he used to set foot on land already looking for a house of pleasure. And nothing was subtle there. Or long, unless his purse was full. But the harbor women that had quenched his need had also taught him to please them. Which allowed him to make the child sigh and shiver. However, he'd never bumped into the limits Marina set. And that drove him crazy as much as it pleased him.
Despite her lack of experience, Marina's female unerring instinct told her where to stop. And she always guessed the right moment and the right way to do it.
There were times when she hated it, because there was nothing she wanted more than giving in to Castillano's gentle urge. She didn't know if what she felt was that famous love poets sang to, but she did know he gave a new meaning to her life, and she needed him around as much as she needed the air and the sea. Maybe she was in love with that "proud brute", like Dolores called him. For her, he was the man that understood her and needed her, the one who hadn't hesitated to throw it all away in order to save her. The one who had dropped any pride to open his heart to her. The one who didn't care whether she wore trousers or dresses, because his eyes like the sea saw her right through.
Even so, every night she forced herself to stop him, because she also knew Dolores was right about it.
"Men move with their crotch, Marina. And when their heads dig heels in, their crotch pushes them on. That's the power women have always had, doomed to remain in the shadows of the private chambers. And kingdoms have risen and fallen after the whispers mixed with the moans of desire."
So Marina understood that something she considered only natural may mean a decisive card on the coming days. And she should save it as a last resource.
Even if time didn't seem to flow in the old house, it did outside the white walls. And Marina's letter should be about to get to Laventry's and Morris' hands in Tortuga. And the jury commissioner would soon come back from Maracaibo to report his findings.
But Castillano refused to talk about the future, and Marina was incapable of finding a way to make him come to his senses and run away with her.
As far as she reckoned, he'd found the solution to all his troubles on the chance of a death sentence. Because he'd die for protecting the woman he loved, and shunning the noose would be like denying what he felt for Marina. And it'd spare him from considering over all his ideas and principles, after finding out what his father had kept secret for so long. To all that, he added what he'd said to her that afternoon, still stunned by alcohol: he couldn't go back to chasing pirates after meeting Marina, and owing his life to those he'd set to hunt.
Even though he'd found his calling for the wrong reasons, that didn't change the fact that he was a soldier and a sailor to the bone. And a Spaniard. He couldn't disown his homeland to become a pirate and fight against his friends and colleagues. He couldn't run away and leave it all behind to hide behind a new name and a fake story, away from the sea and the life he loved. He couldn't get back a career that sooner or later would push him against the woman he loved.
So the noose was the best out. No more double dealing. No more anguish. Even if that meant dying a traitor, he would die by the laws of his King and because of his love for Marina. Death would settle all his conflicts. And he dared the world to offer him a better choice.