Destiny's Captive by Beverly Jenkins

Her sister adored the new surroundings and found everything, from the luxurious bath equipped with its inside water to the fine dishes on the tables at mealtime, to the elegant gardens packed with sweet-smelling blooms, much to her liking. When their mother took them shopping for new clothes, the first new things they’d owned since their father’s death, Doneta cried. Pilar, more comfortable in the thin cotton trousers and plain shirtlike blouse of her homeland, tried to convince her mother that a ball gown for the birthday rumba wasn’t necessary, but that fell on deaf ears and she was forced to try on what seemed like an endless stream of gowns until a choice was made—a long, full-skirted one that was mint green in color. The thin straps were anchored to the bodice with a delicate rosette.
    â€œWhat are you doing up here, Pilar? You’re supposed to be downstairs with the dance master.”
    â€œI already know how to dance, Tia Simona.”
    â€œNo you don’t. When the dancing begins at the party, it won’t be those indecent country dances you’re used to back home. This will be waltzing and you need to learn.”
    Simona was Tio Miguel’s wife—a plain-faced shrew of a woman. From the moment the Banderases entered her home, she’d made plain her dislike. Pilar’s mother said part of the reason had to do with them being poor—apparently Simona came from an extremely wealthy family who didn’t tolerate those who weren’t, and the other part had to do with Simona’s two daughters, Mari and Anya. She and Tio Miguel were having difficulty finding husbands for their daughters, who closely resembled their mother, and Simona was concerned that having Pilar and the ravishing Doneta under her roof would only make the quest more difficult. “Have you seen my mother?”
    â€œShe’s out with my husband. They’re looking at property. She’s thinking of settling here permanently.”
    Pilar froze.
    â€œNow, downstairs with you.”
    Stunned, Pilar did as she was told.
    After dinner, as Pilar, Doneta, and their mother sat outside on the verandah, Pilar asked about the property. “Are you really thinking of staying in America?”
    â€œYes, Pilar, I am. I want a fresh start in life and this seems the perfect time.”
    â€œBut what about our home?”
    â€œWe’ll make a new home, Pilar. We’ve struggled and done without for so long. My brother let me know that my parents left me a sizeable sum of money in their will—out of guilt or love, we aren’t certain, but it’s more than enough for us to live comfortably as long as we stay within our means.”
    â€œThen why can’t we take that money back to Cuba?”
    â€œBecause Miguel has the funds in an American bank. I don’t want to take it back and have Spain whittle it away with their taxes and assessments until there’s nothing left.”
    Pilar mulled that over while taking in the beauty of the gardens. “And if I choose to return?”
    â€œYou are old enough to make your own way, Pilar. I’ll not stand in your way.”
    Pilar tried to imagine life without her mother and sister because she knew without asking that Doneta would be content to stay. She glanced between the two women who held her heart. “I’ll let you know after the party.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” her mother replied softly.
    Lying in bed in the dark, Pilar knew her sister was awake. “Would you really prefer to live here, ’Neta?”
    â€œI would. I’m tired of having to work so hard for so little reward. Maybe once the country changes, things for people like us will be better, but right now . . . I know you probably think I’m flighty to be impressed by the way our uncle lives, but to have a full belly each night before I sleep, to not have to get up each morning and wear the same clothes. Do you realize we’ve