“What are you going to do when we reach the border?” she leaned forward and asked Consuela.
"I go with Juan.”
“He has agreed?” After his recent revelations, Honor wondered whether Juan would accept her plans.
“We are discussing it.” Consuela tossed the words over her shoulder with an air of false bravado.
Was that what they’d been arguing about earlier?
“And if he refuses?”
“Then I will come to England with you and find myself a new husband. The English, they have no passion. That’s acceptable to me, I do not want that. It is false.” She waved a hand at the scenery below. “Like that,” she said, pointing to the sinking sun. Tranquil. “It looks so calm, and it is not. Deception comes in many guises.”
Was Consuela warning her? If so, what about? Leaning forward Honor risked another question. “Was your marriage not a happy one?”
“For a Spanish woman it is not the same as it is in your country.”
”In what way?”
“Our parents arrange our marriage when we are children. Sometimes as soon as we are born.”
While she’d married for love, Honor knew many English girls were forced to marry men years older than themselves. “Maybe not arranged from the cradle,” she conceded, “but it has been known. Marriages are arranged for financial benefits.”
"In other words, you are sold to the highest bidder. Is that what you are saying?"
Since Blogger's latest changes I can no longer control the formatting on my blog, no can I insert any pictures at all so my apologies if this ends up looking very peculiar.