"The Sick Rose"
Disclaimer: I do not own Goya's Ghosts, Ines Bilbatua or her family, or Father Lorenzo. I don't own "The Sick Rose" either. No copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: The title was borrowed from William Blake's gorgeous poem.
O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:
Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy;
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.
Summary: I love the movie Goya's Ghosts, and this will not make sense to you unless you have seen the movie. I also love Nat Portman and Javier Bardem, but I was a bit disappointed by the cruel character he played. I give you my version of Goya's Ghosts, rewritten with a kinder Lorenzo, and Ines does not spend fifteen years in jail.
Chapter One: The Flaws of Innocence
She shouldn't have made such a stupid mistake. When she stepped into the ominous looking building, she felt instinctively like she was in trouble. However, the calming tones and sympathetic expressions of the monks lulled her into adopting a false sense of security. They questioned her innocently at first, she was not expecting them to lash out at her the way they did. She did not think that they would make such an enormous deal over her refusal to eat pork, simply because she really did not like the taste of it.
And when they asked her if she would take an opportunity to prove herself, she had stupidly, naively agreed to it.
She did not know they would torture her into admitting she practiced Judaism, or that she would be stripped of her gown and thrown into a filthy dungeon with her ankle shackled to the stone wall.
Ines Bilbatua lay curled up with her bruised arms wrapped around herself, silently weeping. She did not want to attract anymore attention to herself, so she bit down hard on her lower lip to stifle her sobs. The cell was dank and reeked of human excrement, there were rats lurking in the shadows that feasted on the corpses of dead prisoners.
Ines closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember what it felt like to be outside beneath the sunlight and breathing fresh air. She let out a shuddering exhalation of breath when she realized she couldn't. She could not remember how long it had been since they threw her down here, or how long it had been since her father kissed her for the last time, or when she embraced her dear mother.
It was too late to think about that now. She'd never see them again, she was convinced of it. If there was a god, he surely would not let her suffer so badly. She almost laughed, she had arrived here accused as a heretic, and the thoughts that flitted through her head now were only just starting to turn blasphemous.
Minutes passed.
It felt like days.
Occassionally, the guards would venture her way and throw her scraps of food. She hungrily accepted whatever they gave, she had long gotten over her natural pickiness. She had to survive somehow, when it rained and water seeped through the cracks of the ceiling, she readily opened her mouth to catch the drops.
She waited mostly. Recited the alphabet in Spanish, English, French and Latin. Recited all of the prayers she knew, not because she still believed them, but because she needed to channel her mind in some sort of coherent direction. If there was one thing she feared, it was losing her mind because of this place. She stubbornly refused to become submissive to the conditions of her wrongful imprisonment, even though she inadvertently was responsible for it.
The most dreadful part about it all was the sounds that she picked up from the other corridors. It was very dim most of the time, so she could not make out what exactly was happening. Perhaps it was worse that way. The frightening noises-- the moans of pain, murmurs of insanity, cries of desperation-- kicked her already overactive imagination into overdrive. She was subject to images of horrid monsters, no longer human, but demons.
In times like these, she learned to tune everything out. Ines was grateful that at least she was not being hung upside down with her arms twisted painfully behind her. She could still feel where her bones threatened to tear out through her skin, her muscles were sore and extremely tender from the trauma they sustained.
Suddenly, her sensitive ears heard footsteps nearing her. The vibrations echoed along the cold stone floor, she quickly scrambled up and backed into the darkened corner, hoping whoever it was would ignore her and go away.
The voice that succeeded the footsteps was surprisingly gentle.
"No, no, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." It said mildly, soothingly. She thought she could get lost in that voice.
Still, she said nothing, half of her still fearful that the man might do if she came forward. Ines pulled her dirty knees to her chest and waited to see what would happen next.
The man came forward instead, offering her his heavy overcoat. She sat limply as he put it around her, doing the best he could while simultaneously trying to ignore her nudity. Ines frowned until she realized that the man who was visiting her was a priest, and therefore a potential enemy. She stared at him analytically, watching for any signs of danger as he knelt down, still avoiding her gaze.
"Are you Ines Bilbatua?" He questioned softly.
A beat, and then she decided to answer.
"Yes."
"I have come to see if I can be of some assistance. I am Lorenzo, I can deliver a message to your family if you wish."
At the mention of her family, she perked up noticeably. He was compelled to look at her. He could not help but feel pity for the young girl, she looked so undeniably sad. He supposed that given the circumstances, he could not blame her.
"Please, sir, will you really?" Ines whispered as if she were afraid to hear the answer. Her bottom lip quivered involuntarily as she tugged the warm fleece garment around herself a little tighter. She knew she looked absolutely atrocious, despite weeks of imprisonment, she still held onto what little vanity she had leftover. She was suddenly ashamed of her undignified appearance in front of a man, even if he was just a priest.
He seemed to sense her discomfort, so he simply bent down and offered his ear to her.
"Will you tell my…my father that I love him? And my mother and my brothers too. Tell them that every time I close my eyes, I pray to God that I will see them again…" She sobbed a little then, the images of her beloved family too overwhelming for her to bear.
Lorenzo usually did not sympathize with prisoners of the Inquisition, yet he found that there was something about this girl that was unlike any other heretic he had encountered before. He tried to remember that this girl practiced Judaism and had even gone so far as to confess to it when she was put to the "Question."
For the meantime, all he could do was gently rock her in consolation and promise her that he would deliver her message to her family. She cried, prayed and begged for him to help her get out, but all he could do was offer her platitudes that were as useless to her as open skies for a bird with clipped wings.
Lorenzo left the Holy Office with a heavy heart. He definitely had his work cut out for him, for he decided he would try to help Ines Bilbatua regain her freedom.
After the whole incident with the Bilbatua patriarch, Lorenzo's head reeled with doubt and confusion. Everything he believed-or everything he was taught to believe-had been unraveled as swiftly as a loosely wound knot. He always thought his faith and fear in God was stronger than any earthly force, but clearly his tolerance for pain did not match the level of his piety. He accepted Bilbatua's handsome sum and brought it to the Holy Office the very next day, hoping that his superiors would take the sum without any scruples and release the girl so they could carry on with their lives as if they were never disrupted.
"There is one condition, however, Bilbatua demands the safe return of his daughter, Ines." Lorenzo admitted quietly, he fought the urge to fidget and was half fearful of the impending answer. The other monks stared at him suspiciously, their hard eyes glittering like obsidian rocks. He could feel the distrust in the musty air, it smelled of old parchment and ink.
The old cardinal exhaled audibly, looking as tired as Lorenzo felt inside. His wrinkles were even more pronounced in the dim candlelight, the somber look in his eyes gave Lorenzo no semblance of hope.
"I see. Is she with us?"
Lorenzo was ready to reply but he was cut off by Brother Sebastian, a seedy, gaunt looking man who never hesitated in asserting his opinion. Lorenzo never did like the look of this man, he thought contemptuously as he listened to his nasal words.
"Yes she is. She is a heretic, as well as one of Francisco de Goya's whores. She confessed to being a secret practitioner of Judaism and she is down in the dungeons."
Father Gregorio nodded, brow bent, as he pondered the situation.
"I take it that she has been put to the 'question'?"
This time, Lorenzo could see where the conversation was heading and immediately intervened.
"Yes, Your Grace. However, I believe we would do well to remember her tender age. A female so young and impressionable would be quick to confess a falsity rather than endure more pain. She probably did not even realize what she had confessed to." He kept his tone purposely gentle as he was speaking from experience this time.
"Sebastian, you oversaw her during the procedure. Was she not hysterical and delirious? Was she in her right mind?" Lorenzo questioned intently, trying to prove his point.
Sebastian nodded reluctantly. Lorenzo felt like he might have turned the tide singlehandedly despite the doubt remaining on his fellow priests' faces.
He turned to look at Gregorio again and dared to hope that he would do as he suggested. His entire future as a man of the cloth depended on this. If the cardinal refused Tomas Bilbatua's request, Lorenzo knew the merchant would not think twice about using the 'monkey' contract to blackmail him. So Lorenzo gripped fistfuls of his robes tensely as he waited for the verdict, willing the cardinal with all his might to grant the girl release from prison.
"No."
His entire world might as well have come crashing down.
"Tell him that the Holy Office is very grateful for his donation, but if we release her, it would suggest that the Catholic Church doubts the power of 'the question.' It would be a breach of the very foundations of our faith."
And just like that, the moment ended and everyone rose to leave. Lorenzo sat in his chair, paralyzed. Soon, it was just him and Father Gregorio left in the chilly room. He did not realize how crushed he must have looked, for the cardinal moved over to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I am sorry Lorenzo. It is not your fault that the girl is where she is. That is between her and God." He murmured with the faintest hint of condescension in his tone.
"Please, Your Grace. To allow an innocent lamb to remain locked up, waiting to be slaughtered, would be more of a sin than releasing her. There must be something I could do-" An idea struck him then, "I could re-educate the girl in the ways of Christianity myself. To ensure that she will not slip into old habits."
The cardinal appeared obviously skeptical as well as startled.
"What? That would be…unorthodox, to say the least…Well, you were always unorthodox, I suppose, Lorenzo. I trust your intentions are," He gave a good pause for effect, "strictly theological?"
Lorenzo's dark eyes flashed characteristically at the old man's subtle jab. He realized, though, that giving the cardinal the wrong impression may actually help him achieve his endgame.
"My intentions are to educate a beautiful, young heretic in the ways of our faith." He injected some perversity into his voice for good measure.
The cardinal still had not been totally won over.
"Surely a task like this would be better suited to a nun? But I would not want to deprive you of any pleasure. It may be healthy for you, in fact."
Lorenzo merely sat back and allowed the old man to talk himself into agreeing.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Father Gregorio gave his consent.
"Very well. I shall like to hear of Senorita Bilbatua's progress, keep me informed Lorenzo."
Lorenzo felt a pang of relief strike his core as he lowered himself to kiss the cardinal's ring.
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"Ines?"
Her eyes flew wide open and she scrambled for cover. Lorenzo was startled as well, he had not expected such a violent reaction of surprise. A yelp escaped from her as she tried to shield herself from him. He felt his heart lurch for the poor girl cowering in front of him.
As soon as he got over his initial shock, Lorenzo slowly began to move closer to her.
"Ines, it is I, Father Lorenzo. I have come to bring you home."
He stayed silent for a few seconds, allowing his words to sink in. Soon enough, Ines lifted her frightened gaze to meet his and he saw wonder there.
"D'you mean it? Do you really mean it?"
He smiled a sad smile and unconsciously cherished the admiration that reflected in her hazel eyes. He offered her a hand, which she gladly accepted. Lorenzo pulled her to her feet, noticing how light she was. Her hair was snarled and ragged, skin caked in dried blood and dirt. It was hard for him to remember how she looked in her portrait in Goya's studio.
"Can you walk, Ines?" Lorenzo asked softly.
She bit her lip and nodded.
"Thank you so much, Father. Thank you…"
"Hush, child. There are some things I must explain to you before we leave. I am taking you out of here under the assumption that I have seduced you. The guards are under that impression, so we must be convincing." He whispered, eyes darting around the dim corridor. He made quick work of unfastening her shackles as she mulled it over.
"I do not mind, as long as we get out of here." She said honestly. Lorenzo was pleasantly surprised at her backbone.
"Very well, madam. Lean on me, and remain silent."
She wrapped her arms around his waist beneath his thick cloak as he strode steadily along. The soldiers standing guard around every corner froze when they saw her being taken away, but Lorenzo's quelling stare silenced their questions. She was inwardly grateful that the man who was her savior was mildly terrifying to encounter. His robes billowed behind them as he moved, there was a sense of austerity in his expression.
Ines vaguely wondered if he was pretending to look annoyed, or if he actually was annoyed.
By the time they finally reached the first floor of the Holy Office, she was out of breath and wheezing pitifully. Lorenzo stopped so she could regain her breath. After weeks of virtually no exercise, her muscles had gone limp and weakened.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"Yes, I am now. I'm ready." She looked determined to see herself out of this fiasco. He had to admire the way she carried herself considering everything she experienced. He kept his arms snugly around her to help her along faster, he wanted to avoid running into any of his peers in the halls of the office.
Lorenzo and his prisoner were admitted outside surprisingly quickly. He had been expecting more of a struggle to get Ines out. The monk at the door simply glared at him and fixed Ines with a foreboding look as he pulled it open.
"Prepare yourself, it is rather bright outside."
"Alright."
She squinted so that her eyes would not suffer too much from the impact of the glorious sunlight. Then he stepped out with her in tow, and Ines felt like she had been reborn.
"Oh…" She gasped lightly.
He frowned. "What is wrong?"
Ines was silent for a moment. The whole world seemed to slow to a halt.
"I never thought I'd live to see the sun again, that's all."
That tiny remark touched him deeply. He was suddenly glad to have been someone's savior, even if he had other selfish motives at first. Remorse followed inevitably after.
"Come, we shall take my carriage to your home." Lorenzo motioned to the awaiting horses that were impatiently chomping at their bits.
She grinned, the realization that she was going home finally hit her.
They clambered in, he helped her get settled comfortably in the seat and then they were off.
About ten minutes later, Ines broke the silence.
"Father Lorenzo? I am eternally grateful for all that you have done for me. I was wondering, was there something I could do for you in return? That is, if you did not already have something in mind…No matter what, I intend to make it up to you." Her voice was fiercely dedicated for such an emaciated, exhausted girl.
"Actually, I am to tutor you in the ways of Christianity, according to the Grand Inquisitor. I had neglected to tell you earlier, I am sorry."
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Well, then, I am obliged to accept. When shall we begin?"
He thought she would have shrunk away from him, especially after her recent experiences with the Church, but he was swiftly learning her character. He found her to be delightfully headstrong even in the direst circumstances.
"Ines, we shall begin once you are well rested and healed. I shall visit you regularly, and when I feel you are adequately prepared, we shall begin."
Tears sprung to her almond shaped eyes at once.
"You are so considerate, Father. I thank you a thousand times."
He reached across to her and patted her small hand, mesmerized by the way the light set off her eyes.
"You are welcome."
The rest of the journey was swathed in silence, but he found he could not take his gaze off her no matter how much he tried.
Lorenzo was forced to put aside any thoughts of Ines Bilbatua for the rest of the month because he was assigned to teach seminars on how to identify heresy in public places. He tried to be as honest as possible, but he was somewhat distracted by images of hazel coloured eyes.
He found that he could not wait any longer. At the first opportunity he had, Lorenzo took his carriage to the Bilbatua's estate and requested an audience with the family. Tomas Bilbatua was profuse in his thanks, the man offered him the finest wine and food he had. Maria Isabel, his wife, kissed his hand piously and smiled at him with clear joy in her face. The Bilbatua brothers bowed respectfully to him.
Unfortunately for him, Ines was nowhere in sight.
He gazed all around, trying not to seem too blatantly obvious.
"Ines is practicing the piano forte in the drawing room. I shall show you the way," Maria Isabel said graciously, gesturing him in the right direction. He followed her down the hall, running his eyes over the intricate tapestries hung along the walls. Quite soon, he did indeed hear music emanating from a room to his left.
Maria Isabel entered the drawing room and clapped her hands twice. He was immediately stunned when he saw the girl he rescued from prison, for he could hardly recognize her. Three weeks of rest and proper nutrition worked wonders over her.
Her hair, previously tangled and dirty, was now shiny and lustrous, her angelic curls seemed to frame her heart shaped face. Her skin was a healthy peach, two spots of lovely color glowed on her cheeks. Her eyes, once dull and glassy, were alive and sparkling as they took him in. Lorenzo was breathless with an emotion he could not identify.
"Father Lorenzo!" She cried in a voice that was less rusty sounding than before. She promptly rose from the piano and hurried over to greet him. Ines bent to kiss his hand, he watched as she brushed her lips over his skin and felt quite bewitched by her touch.
Stop it, you lecherous man. She is but a child! Lorenzo chastised himself as he stared into Ines' radiant face.
"I trust you are feeling well?" He ventured.
She nodded thrice and smiled, revealing two rows of clean teeth. Maria Isabel excused herself reluctantly, she sensed that Lorenzo had important matters to discuss with her daughter.
"Oh yes, sir, very well indeed. I owe my wellbeing to you. Have you come to begin lessons?" Ines queried. He marveled at her astuteness, she seemed so eager for 're-education.'
"At first, I had come simply to check on your recovery, but as I can see, you are quite recovered."
Her eyes darkened a bit at that.
"Maybe on the outside, yes. My arms have marks though, and the physicians tell me that they are permanent."
He felt a rush of contempt for 'the question', since he now knew what it felt like too. He pitied her, for he knew she bore it for a much longer time than he was capable of.
"I am sorry, my dear."
Lorenzo could have sworn that there was a flush of delight in her expression when he called her that, but later he attributed it to his own overexcitement.
"Think nothing of it, Father. I am here now, thanks to you. Now, where shall we begin?"
He chuckled in spite of himself.
"Have you an available study we may adjourn to?"
Ines could not sleep, could not breathe, could not close her eyes without being accosted by memories of the mild-tempered priest she had come to love. She scarcely knew him, but she knew she loved him because he had bothered to go out of his way for her. He was truly a reflection of God on Earth; he had shown her such consideration.
Not to mention the fact that he was older than her by quite a few years, she had not yet reached her twentieth year while he must have been at the very least five and thirty. He was by no means classically handsome, but she fancied the thought that his dark looks complemented her own reputedly unusual beauty. She adored his dark eyes, the strong line of the bridge of his nose, his expressive eyebrows, and his dry, kissable lips.
Ines told no one of her secret infatuation. She had no desire to end up in jail again, despite all evidence to the contrary. She was content to daydream and imagine things, especially since she got to see him on quite a regular basis. He was always gentlemanly and chivalric, and her parents seemed to like him very well.
She read all the sacred texts he lent to her, devoured his every word, and obeyed his every command simply because she could not bear displeasing him.
And if she were a perceptive woman, Ines might have noticed that Father Lorenzo was just as smitten with her as she was with him. However, she was too modest to admit that she recognized the looks he sent her way occasionally.
Every time Ines prepared herself to see him, she made sure to take extra care in grooming. Her chestnut curls were tamed and arranged becomingly, her skin glowed happily as her ladies-in-waiting attended to her clothes. She selected a gown of dusky rose damask, with an under gown and petticoats of pale ivory. Precious jewels adorned her slim neck.
Ines stared at her reflection in her handheld mirror and was compelled to smile. She was very lovely; she felt that even Lorenzo would not be able to resist her. As most young, lovely women did, Ines wanted something to happen that day, something significant. She knew how she felt, how did he feel about her? She desired to gauge his behavior.
He arrived promptly as usual, at two o'clock sharp in the afternoon. He made a habit of coming during everyone else's siesta, she was the only one awake to receive him usually. The servants led him inside as she waited for him in the foyer. Ines appeared gracefully poised as she stood in the center of the hall, smiling openly as she regarded him.
"Buenas tardes, Lorenzo." Ines murmured unassumingly. She sought to charm him, to really capture his heart. She curtseyed traditionally, mindful of the plunging cut of her dress and the way her bosom looked. Her eyes were downcast, her lashes casting crescent shadows upon her cheeks.
"Good day, Senorita Bilbatua." He sounded rather somber.
The smile on her face faltered as she rose from her curtsey.
"Are you alright, Father?" She backtracked from her earlier coquetry, sensing that he was not in the appropriate mood at the moment. This seemed to put him more at ease as she read the expression in his eyes.
"Yes, yes, I simply have been preoccupied with many complex issues, my dear," Lorenzo said dismissively, "Are you ready for your lesson, today?"
Ines felt mildly insulted that he did not deem her worthy of confiding in with his preoccupations. She did not want to put him in a worse mood though, so she bit her tongue and plunged on.
"Of course. Come with me." She smiled again and calmly began walking in the direction of their library. He maintained a steady pace beside her as he kept his hands clasped firmly behind his back.
Ines took this opportunity to casually glance at him sideways at random intervals. Lorenzo looked drawn, a little worried, and she could have sworn there was a bead of sweat on his brow. He did indeed look preoccupied, probably with matters of the Inquisition, she remembered with a pang of involuntary fear. She then scoffed at herself inwardly, Lorenzo was different. He had a conscience, with good morals and straightforward beliefs.
She pushed open the wooden door wide enough for both of them to pass.
Absentmindedly, she wandered inside and stood by the wide window that offered a view of their estate's gardens.
There was a moment of silence, a silence so thick that Ines thought she could take a knife and slice through it. Lorenzo stood somewhere behind her, she could feel his distinct presence as he moved a little closer.
"You…" He faltered. She did not turn around as he continued. "You are far too beautiful, Ines."
At that, Ines startled. She was completely caught off guard by his compliment.
"My good sir, you flatter me too greatly. I have a neck that is far too long and eyes that are unfashionably dark. What say you, now?" Her tone was soft and teasing as she spoke.
Ines turned her body and was surprised to find that he was in rather close proximity to her. There was a smouldering look in those intense eyes of his, a nearly predatory look as he seemed to lean down. Lorenzo was fearfully silent, but he had such a look of intensity about him that she unconsciously sucked in a tentative breath.
"What are you doing?" She whispered for fear of her voice breaking.
He looked tormented as he replied.
"I know not, my dear, my lovely girl…"
She stared hungrily at his lips as they neared her, all she had to do was stand there, against the wall and wait as he softly, oh so softly pressed his lips over hers. She discovered that the feel of him was quite nice, his lips were smooth and pliant. Lorenzo kissed her probingly, yet gently, it was as if he were trying to sample a taste of her and nothing more.
He pulled away quickly just as fast, in a flash of disbelief, her eyelids shot wide open.
"Why did you stop?" She hadn't meant to sound so disappointed, and the cool effect she was aiming for failed miserably.
"This is wrong, in the name of all that is holy, this is wrong!" He whispered sadly.
She recoiled at his harshly chosen words. She side stepped him and felt her heart beat increase with agitation. Ines knew his character well enough to see that he could not get past the issues of immorality to ever consider her as a woman. Realization also came careening back into her previously clouded head. Once you are a priest, you serve God for life!
After a moment of terrible indecision, Ines knew she had lost in her endeavor to have the man she desired. She silently conceded defeat, acknowledging that their attraction could never be nurtured into anything more. The idea of anything more would be enough to get them both killed. Once again, she cursed herself for her selfish, naïve stupidity.
"Then I shall pretend it never happened. Come, maestro, we must continue with today's gospel, I believe." This time, Ines' words were perfectly composed and showed none of her inner turmoil. Lorenzo stared at her in shocked awe before he snapped rigidly into acquiescence.
"Very well. I believe that would be the best-" He paused and stared at her entrancing caramel eyes, "For the both of us, of course." He added for good measure. She was forced to nod, appearing quite certain, despite the fact that she felt such intense agony within herself.
They carried on as if nothing were amiss, as if student and teacher had not just overstepped a very delicate boundary. Ines struggled to maintain a stoic façade and found that if this was what she would have to deal with, she'd rather go back to prison.
Two months had passed quickly, March had arrived in all its glory. The flowers in the gardens were beginning to blossom and the greenery seemed to burst into growth. Ines diverted her most troublesome thoughts by focusing on tending to the roses. She adored the vivid colors of the fragrant flowers, especially the white ones that looked as if they had been artfully dipped in a bowl of scarlet paint.
No one questioned her sudden interest in gardening, her father and brothers dismissed it as a woman's tendency. Her mother, however, realized that her daughter was hiding something from the world. One afternoon after Ines' lesson with Father Lorenzo, Maria Isabel confronted her daughter before she could retreat to the solace of her rooms.
"Wait just a moment, my dear. I had Catalina prepare tea for us. Would you care to join me?" She called out as she neared the grand staircase.
Ines was already halfway up, yet she could not find it in her to refuse her mother. It had been a very long time since she had socialized with anyone and that included her friends and family. She accepted graciously and made her way back down the stairs.
The two women walked to the reading room where they both took a seat at the little table in the center.
Maria Isabel studied her morose daughter carefully. Ines had gradually grown into quite an introvert, which was strange because since she was old enough to talk, Ines had always been very opinionated. At first, she had not thought that it was a becoming habit for her only daughter but her husband encouraged that particular trait enough that she accepted it and even came to cherish it.
Now that Ines was exceedingly reticent and appeared to be lost in her thoughts most of the time, Maria wondered what the cause of such a drastic change might have been. It had been a long time since Ines returned from prison, she seemed to be very much over that traumatic experience.
Within seconds, the woman could see rather clearly what may have been bothering Ines. She decided to test the waters.
"Ines, I have spoken with your father quite often about your marriage prospects. You are very eligible as you are certainly old enough to be married, and we think it is time for you to become a wife."
She immediately saw the flash in her daughter's eyes as she talked of impending marriage. Aha! That must have been it. Maria thought satisfactorily.
Ines opened and shut her mouth wordlessly, it seemed that she was rendered speechless.
"Your father has plenty of connections. We have so many choices before us. Since we have this rare luxury, you have the privilege of choosing to whom you wish to be betrothed."
Ines regained her senses and managed to choke out, "And who, pray tell, are these bachelors who wish to take me to wife?"
Maria allowed herself a small chuckle, she interpreted Ines' shock as relief.
"Oh my dear, did you honestly think your father and I would allow you to become an old spinster? I know you are older than the average bride, but I assure you that a good match will be made for you, my precious one."
Ines clenched her jaw, but this went unnoticed by Maria, who was caught up in her excitement. At that moment, Catalina had popped in with the tray of tea things, but she was irritably dismissed by Maria. She promptly exited the room once again and tea was completely forgotten at this point.
"Mother, please tell me, who am I to choose from?"
"Well, there is Carlos Villalobos from Seville. Your father does much business with their family, it is a known fact that they are wealthy and well-liked by His Majesty. There is also Marcos Olavide, I believe you have met. He was always besotted with you. There is Valentin Galiano, he is very handsome and in high favor with the king. There is-"
"Stop! I beg you, stop!" Ines cried out, her hands flying to her head. She held her head in her hands and propped her elbows up on the table.
Maria was decidedly surprised at the violence of Ines' reaction. She expected joy, not sorrow.
"What is wrong, Ines? They are all respectable men who would provide you with security and wealth. I promise, if you prefer none of the ones I have already named, I could ask your father to search more-"
Ines grimaced painfully and held out the palm of her hand.
"No. I want no one, mother. Your concern is unfounded, but nevertheless appreciated."
Silence encroached upon them. Maria Isabel could not understand her daughter's reaction at all.
After several seconds of uncomfortable quiet, Ines decided to confess her troubles to the only person who might have understood.
"I do not want any of those men because I already know who I want."
The older woman's brow arched at that.
"Is that so? Do I know this fellow or will you have to introduce me to him? Someone you met at the tavern perhaps?"
Ines shook her head furiously at that.
"No, no, mamma. You know him quite well, actually. Oh but I know you and papa will not agree to it. I myself cannot agree to it yet I find that no matter how impossible it seems, I want him more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life! It hurts to think, to breathe, knowing that I'll never have him. I'd rather die an old maid than marry someone else."
"Now you are just being overly dramatic." Maria stared skeptically at her.
Tears stung her eyes at her own mother's doubt. She bit them back (something she was becoming rather good at, of late) and drew in a shaky breath.
"I love Father Lorenzo, and I wish to be his lawful wedded wife."
This soft yet convincing proclamation knocked the wind out of Maria Isabel Bilbatua. It was now her turn to gape like a fish out of water.
"You must be jesting!"
Ines laughed bitterly, "No, indeed I am not. Now do you see why I am so vexed? I cannot live in innocence as I did before. I have been tainted by the Holy Office, first by the accusations of heresy against me and now by a ghastly love for the man who was my savior! I cannot escape it, believe me, I've tried ever so hard! But every time I see him, my heart seizes up so tight I fear it will stop dead."
"This is blasphemy, Ines. You silly girl…He does seem very fond of you as well, he might even enjoy your affection for him and take advantage of it. Please tell me that you have not allowed such a dastardly thing to occur! Tell me that you are untouched by any man, or you will be ruined."
Ines growled and banged her fist upon the table.
"He is far too honorable a man for that! He was never inappropriate with me, he never did anything that might have inspired my affection other than his natural tendencies and disposition! That is why I love him so!" She shouted, uninhibited now that she had professed her secret. "Oh, mamma, I shall die of misery!"
Maria Isabel was about to speak once more, but she paused as she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.
Ines stopped too and turned in the direction her mother was staring.
It was her father, who appeared as if he had just been kicked hard in the gut. His eyes were clouded by what looked like a haze of anger mixed with confusion.
"How long have you been standing there?" Ines whispered fearfully.
"Long enough." Tomas said in an emotionless tone. He took a step backward and fled the room as Maria immediately rose up and hurried after him, clutching her heavy skirts so she would not fall.
Ines rose slowly as well, passion drained suddenly from her petite body. She was alone, but now the tears refused to fall. Instead she was left with a feeling of hollowness that made her acutely aware of the ache inside her bosom.
The sound of footstep made her glance up to see her elder brother Luis moving toward her. He wore an expression of exasperation and sympathy as he held his arms out to her. She ran to him unrestrictedly, into his kind embrace and then she found that she could finally succumb to tears.
When she had stopped trembling, Luis gazed at her and told her they had heard everything.
"I speak the truth, I love him, I swear on Jesus' sacred wounds that I do." She said, burying her face in his thickly padded sleeve.
"I believe you, chiquita, I do. But I cannot say that it is acceptable. Why do you love Father Lorenzo when there are so many other suitable candidates for your hand?"
She had to grin at the silly nickname he had used for her since they were small children.
"I do not know how I came to love him so thoroughly, my brother. If I could do it over, I would surely trade this agony for happiness as some other man's wife. But I cannot, and I am stuck with it," Ines knitted her brows together, "If love were a choice, who would ever choose such exquisite pain?"
He sighed and gathered her up in his arms again, hoping he could ease his younger sister's heartache with silence and a warm hug.
A/N: Wow, that was LONG! I hope it was worth reading. Anyway, please review if you wish to critique or offer advice on how I can make this fic better. Thank you!