The Most Beautiful Girl in Cuba - Chanel Cleeton Page 0,67

the details of my escape laid bare for all of Havana to see.

With each word I read, my fear builds.

The newspaper reports that my cellmates say that I drugged them. My jailer and four workers who were on duty have already been arrested. It feels as though the Spanish are on my heels, their determination to see me recaptured laid out in black-and-white before me.

Will I ever truly be free?

I would prefer death at my own hand over surrender.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door to my room.

“My name is Carlos Carbonell. We met last night,” a voice calls out. “This is my house. I was told you wished to speak with me. May I come in?”

“Yes, please do,” I say, straightening the papers.

The door opens, and Carlos enters with smooth strides, dressed more casually than last night, but no less elegantly. He shuts the door behind him, his gaze appraising. He looks to be my father’s age, in his late forties perhaps, and carries himself with a distinguished bearing.

He smiles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you considering how much you have occupied my thoughts and concerns of late. Are you well? I confess it is much better to see you here, comfortably settled as you should be, than in that awful place.”

I nod, words momentarily escaping me, and then I take a deep breath, steadying myself. It is a strange thing to go from living in a dark, dank cell to suddenly finding yourself free—even more so when that freedom is potentially temporary.

“Thank you for taking me into your home,” I reply. “I don’t know what I would have done without your assistance, only that I would like to thank your wife as well for her kindness.”

“There’s no need to thank me. Any patriot would have done the same. You are a credit to our country, and it is my pleasure to serve you in whatever manner I may.” His smile deepens. “Besides, given all the Spanish have done to us, it isn’t exactly a hardship to thwart their plans.

“As for your other thanks, I have no wife for you to meet, unfortunately.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have presumed. You are a widower, then?”

“No, I’ve never had the pleasure of finding someone to spend my life with.”

I never imagined that they would take me to a bachelor’s house, and suddenly, it occurs to me that I am alone with a strange man, and after my experience with Berriz—

He must read the unease in my expression, because he says to me, “In this house, you will be treated with nothing but the utmost respect. I can’t imagine what you have been through, and I understand how it would cause you to distrust the actions of men around you, but I promise you I will treat you with the same level of love and respect that I would accord to my own mother.”

There’s something so earnest in his voice and courtly in his manner that despite my misgivings, I relax somewhat. It is good to be reminded that all men are not Berriz, that there are kind men in this world.

“If all goes as planned, you will leave tomorrow on the passenger ship Seneca, which is bound for New York City.”

New York City.

“That seems an impossible wish,” I confess.

“Not so impossible. Not for those of us who have dedicated ourselves to your cause. I have connections with the Havana agent for the Ward Line that owns the Seneca, which has certainly helped. Besides, you have influential friends, and importantly, you have friends among the Americans. Consul General Lee himself has taken an interest in your case.”

“Are they searching for me?”

“They’re going house to house. But you have nothing to fear. I keep cash on hand, and if I need to bribe any of the authorities to look the other way, I have no qualms about doing so. I don’t want you to worry about your safety. I won’t let anything happen to you. We haven’t come this far to taste defeat so soon. Besides, if the cash doesn’t work, I have a revolver on hand that will.”

There’s something about him that reminds me a bit of my father. He seems to be a man of his word, who despite his elegant appearance isn’t afraid to dirty his hands and fight for what he believes in.

It gives me peace where there otherwise would be none. After years spent caring for my family and languishing in prison, this sensation that there is someone