Page 5 of An Immaculate Deception

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“Don’t worry,” Leandro says as we settle into the cabriolé carriage. “I’m sure your mother will understand.”

I give him a tight-lipped smile.

The open carriage is compact yet comfortable. But once we’re moving at high speeds the folding leather hood is no match for the furious rain and wind, which assault us from both sides. I don’t mind it terribly, as it forces us to lean closer to each other in the middle.

The carriage rumbles through deserted roads, leaving the town behind. It is strange how only half an hour ago these same roads were so full of people, so vibrant with color and savory smells and warmth. Now the streets are empty, the bonfires are dead, and the paper flags cannot be seen through the torrents. The streetlamps flicker and hiss, as though fracturing under the force of the downpour.

I shiver.

“Leandro…” I start, steeling myself. I know now is the time. I curse myself for not saying it sooner when we were dancing and in high spirits. Now the setting is ominous. How was I to know the storm was on the way?

Leandro doesn’t seem to hear me. He sits frozen, staring unblinkingly ahead. I trace his gaze and see that he’s staring at the driver. The man’s head is lolled to the side, his ear almost touching his shoulder.

“Sir!” Leandro shouts.

There’s no response from the driver. I sit up, and uneasiness rolls through me. The horse charges ahead at a steady pace, surely more by force of habit than any guidance from the driver. It swishes its tail and splashes mud onto the road.

Leandro shouts the man’s name, but the rain drowns out the sound and there’s no response. Leandro stands and steadies himself by leaning on the seat facing us, then shakes the man’s arm. The man stirs, raises his head, and picks up the reins. But his movements are sluggish.

Leandro sighs as he settles back in his seat. The lightness is gone from his demeanor.

“What’s wrong with him?” I whisper.

Leandro points his thumb toward his mouth. “Cachaça.”

My stomach clenches. He’s drunk? That man ought to be fired, I think, then I realize that’s what Mother would say. I do feel sorry for him having to sit in the rain. We’re way past town now, flying through deserted roads, and there’s only the three of us. The driver appears to be pulling on the reins without much gusto.

Vast fields and pastures pass by on both sides, enveloped in darkness. Somewhere in the distance, faint rumbling echoes amid dense clouds. The horse keeps snorting, shrieking, and throwing his head.

“The horse seems agitated,” I say.

“The fireworks spooked the animals earlier, and now the thunder…” Leandro laments. “I ought to go sit beside the man and help.”

“Wait.” I squeeze his knee. If he goes off to sit with the driver, I won’t have a chance to tell him. It will be Hell facing Mother tonight.

It has to be now.

“Ihavetotellyousomething.”

He takes me in with wide, curious eyes. God, his eyes are like honey. Freshly harvested, tantalizing, thick, and sweet.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it’s…it’s a good thing, a wonderful thing, I mean, it could be just as wonderful a thing as we want it to be. The best possible thing, really, when you think about it.”

Concern is now firmly etched into his features.

The carriage swerves widely as the road bends and I nearly fall out. Leandro catches me and I feel euphoric at his touch, even in these conditions. He helps me settle back into the center of the seat.

“Hold on to this.” Leandro points to the metal hand support on the side. “I need to go up there—” He starts getting up and I stop him again.

“I am with child.” I squeeze his arm. “Yours. Ours.”

He stills, lips parting slightly. A light shines in his eyes. He’s looking at me as though nothing else in the world exists. The beginnings of a smile play upon his lips. His body and mind at work, synchronized in preparation to say something that will define the course of my life.

He takes my hand. “You are certain?”