This week Pegman takes us to Pena, Portugal.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ He watched her face closely, a smile playing at his lips, never warming his eyes.
She was careful to control her expression in front of him, keep a light burning in her own eyes, even when cold lead seemed to fill her chest. A painful lesson she had learned early in their marriage – he must always see what he wanted to see. ‘It is truly beautiful,’ she said.
The Moorish arches, streams twining through tree ferns and palms, the mountainside hugged in green … Yes, beautiful.
Another beat to examine her expression and he was satisfied. He released the grip on her arm, turned to talk to one of his men, his attention pulled to something more important.
Her husband was a brilliant man, but one thing she knew and he did not. That no amount of riches can fool the prisoner they are free.