"You look decidedly green, Diego," Alejandro said with concern, gazing at his son critically. "Are you sure we shouldn't stop? Youcould stretch your legs, get some air…"
Squashed against the wall of the jolting coach, with Felipe between him and his father, Diego felt extremely nauseous. It was stuffy in the closed quarters, and his legs were cramped and uncomfortable. His right leg ached as he tried to stretch it a little to get circulation moving again. As tempting as it was to stop, it would reveal how much a weakling he really was, and besides he wanted this trip over and done with. Stopping for breaks would only lengthen his ordeal.
"I'm quite fine, Father, very comfortable," Diego assured his father, lying politely. "Ow," he breathed as another bump threw him roughly against the window pane once again. "Very comfortable," he insisted, through clenched teeth.
Felipe coughed into his hand quietly, but not before Diego had seen the slight grin on his son's face. Alejandro's eyes twinkled, as he waited for the inevitable explosion of de la Vega rage.
Diego ruffled his son's hair thoughtfully, letting his frustration subside a little. "Yes, I dare say it's hilarious to see me crushed into this tiny conveyance," Diego murmured. "So much cheek is unbecoming in any gentleman, Felipe."
"Enjoy the humour of it while you can, Felipe," Alejandro responded quickly, wondering if the last piece was a serious reprimand or another piece of strange humour. "You will never see your father confined to the inside of such a conveyance again." Alejandro's chuckle brought a wry smile to Diego's lips.
Diego turned to glance out the window. If seeing the horizon on board ship helped cure sea sickness, surely the same would work for other motion sickness. His artist's eyes saw and appreciated the many different hues of green in the lush landscape outside the coach. Fields of flowers and long grass greeted his eyes, dotted with the occasional group of hungry sheep and lambs. It was spring already? How had that happened? Dairy cattle started to replace the sheep with the slightly different terrain and the smells of the fertile fields reminded his stomach that it wasn't happy about the choice of ocean fish for lunch this far inland. He closed the window again, condemning them all to airless silence, as he settled back and tried to sleep.
The next bump had Diego hitting his head on the ceiling of the coach.
"It's worse than that ship in a full gale! Don't they know how to build roads here?!"
Zzz
"We must be getting close now," Diego murmured, glancing out the window. He could make out a dark form, shapeless and dark, as he peered through the trees that blocked the view. Diego hoped he had made a good choice coming to his old friend.
The search for a marriage of convenience had led Diego and his family across the world. They had started searching in California, with no success. Alejandro had held high hopes for Tessa Alvarez, the daughter of an old friend, but after visiting the town to meet her, one thing had led to another, and the two young people had disliked one another by the end of it. She was beautiful and spirited, possibly a good match, but perhaps she had been too much woman for the young man. Alejandro still couldn't believe that Diego had fallen so hard for Victoria Escalante that he was grieving so had travelled to Mexico, but the daughters of the Dons there were leaving due to the turmoil of the area.
Diego's cousins and other more extended family in Spain were disappointing. The women were simpering beauties with nothing in their heads but fashion. The men were not much better, in Alejandro's opinion. It was hard seeing the country he loved in such a state, Alejandro thought, but still there was no suitable bride for his son.
Perhaps it was far too early for Diego to be objective in his choice. His grief had hit him like a madness, so powerfully, he still feared for his son's safety. No woman would ever come close to the goddess Diego had imagined Victoria to be. Victoria had been extraordinary, Alejandro thought.
France had been completely bypassed. Alejandro didn't want to expose his son to any serious danger. Rumours were already circulating of another revolution, and such an environment was not healthy for anyone.
London was too prim and prudish to be much help, and Diego was about to give up finding a wife this side of the Antipodes. The idea of visiting his great friend from University, Eric Balgair, had been a good one. After Alejandro had explained the situation, Eric had organised a ball and a house party for Diego to meet suitable women of their peer group. Diego was not enthusiastic about the ladies. Who would be after so much disappointment? There should be one woman, somewhere, that Diego would tolerate enough to marry. If not, there was always next year, Alejandro thought, hopefully.
Diego was, however, very excited to see his old friend. The light in his eyes hadn't been there since before the tragedy, Alejandro realised. He hoped his son would see the joy of living once again, and come back to him. He was beginning to miss his old son, the artist, the scientist, the reader. All the things that made Diego so unique had disappeared. In his place was a solemn, polite stranger brooding silently in his rooms, or outside walking alone for hours.