So. For whoever is still reading...the birthday at last.

Dec 5, 1813

It was just before dawn that morning when Gilberto came dancing in. He was only wearing his dressing gown and he was grinning like a little boy. Felipe groaned inwardly and sat up, leaning around the doorway to the bedroom. Gilberto had perched himself on Diego's bed and was shaking him without the least sympathy. "Wake up, Little Brother. We're twenty-five! Diego?"

"Yes, I'm awake. Ugh. You're older, you know: you be twenty-five, and I'll sleep for a while."

"Three minutes. I'm three minutes older."

"Oh, for goodness' sake - "

"What? You want three minutes more sleep?" He took Diego's pocket watch off the bedside table. "Okay, start now."

"You are such a jerk sometimes," Diego laughed. But he sat up and rubbed his face. "Happy birthday, 'Berto."

"So, I should tell you. The present Father knows about, you'll get that later. But the present Father doesn't know about, that's in the laboratory. I got you a quantity of phosphorus."

Diego laughed and rolled his eyes. "Home made?"

"If I made a joke like that, I'd get a lecture," Gilberto said with feigned indignation.

Diego ignored this. "Felipe? It is both explosive and toxic. I don't want you handling it."

Felipe already knew - both that several jars of it were stored in the cave and that it was amazingly dangerous. He did pay attention to the chemistry lessons.

"And." Diego opened the drawer in the bedside table. "The present Father knows about is unspeakably boring, and you will get it later with due fanfare. But this is yours as well." He held out a tiny, wicked knife.

Gilberto took it, turned it in the light, tossed it in a neat flip. It was a gift for Zorro. "This is beautiful," he said. And then he handed it back. "I'd rather have what you gave me last year."

Diego pretended to study the knife in his hand. "I'm not sure that is a...wise precedent to set. Someday I'm not going to be able to keep that promise, and it...it will be bad enough without so specifically failing you..."

Felipe waved an arm at them. "What did he give you last year?"

Suddenly, the twins were not looking at each other. Diego said, "Last year...I wasn't doing well. I hadn't been shopping in a couple months, I hadn't been out of our quarters, obviously...and when I apologized to Gilberto because I had nothing..."

"I asked him for another birthday," Gilberto said too softly. "One more year."

Oh. Felipe swallowed hard.

"Diego, I know that some day...Some day, it will be too much, and I won't ask, but..."

"I promise," Diego whispered. "Another year." He glanced down.

"Diego - "

Diego held out the knife. "Take it."

"I only want the other gift - "

"You know I'll use the phosphorus for Zorro. Well, this as well - It is for Zorro." Diego frowned. "You are as much at risk as I am. Surely, you know I...Gilberto, take the damned knife."

He took it from Diego's hand.

"All right, then," Diego said.

Gilberto left a few minutes later. When he was gone, Felipe retrieved a tiny bottle and brought it to the bed. "Happy Birthday."

Diego's eyes were fixed on the tiny bottle. He took it reverently and tilted it so that the slightly viscous liquid within rolled a bit up the side. There were only a few drops, and Felipe was struck by how inadequate the little gift was.

Diego smiled very slowly. "This is your rose oil," he guessed.

Felipe nodded.

Diego uncapped the tiny bottle and sniffed. "It's magnificent," he murmured. He closed his eyes and sniffed again. "The quality is very good."

Something tense and jumpy in Felipe's belly relaxed at that.

And then Diego said, "I'm very proud of you. You did very good work with this."

Felipe sighed.

"Come give me a hug," Diego said. "And then we need to get dressed. It's going to be a busy day."

After breakfast, Felipe slipped out to exercise Toronado. The twins were too busy and would be too closely watched today to be able to get down to the cave. He wasn't allowed - or willing - to ride him without one of the twins around, but he led the stallion outside and slipped the bridle. The whistle drills had not been too difficult to learn. The two he couldn't actually hear, he knew the feel of. Felipe sat on a rock and dangled his feet in the tiny trickle of stream while Toronado ran off his extra energy.

Z

The message he had been bringing back from town the afternoon before - in all the excitement forgotten until after dinner - had been Victoria's acceptance of a ride into town for the party and a room for the night so that she would not be traveling home when it was very late. Although she generally got by with as few employees as she could manage, for this special occasion she was taking the day off and leaving the tavern in the hands of - of all people - Mendoza, who was expending a day of leave in order to play barman.

When Felipe finished working with Toronado he went back to the house and found Diego ready to go fetch Victoria. They would be taking the carriage, not the little rig: it was likely Victoria was bringing clothes and they would need the space. Felipe did not ask if Diego was feeling strong enough to make the trip to town and back. Diego wasn't in the mood to be reminded of his frailty. Felipe himself didn't especially want to think of it. And anyway, Diego was moving easily enough...and his color was fine...

Felipe really, really hoped today was a good day.

It was certainly a lovely day. Just warm enough, with a sweet breeze and fluffy clouds. The short trip to Los Angeles passed pleasantly, and Victoria was waiting when they reached the tavern. Grinning, she gave Diego a brief, chaste hug and wished him many happy returns.

Diego thanked her - a bit awkwardly - and changed the subject to how the tavern would fare under Mendoza's tenure.

Victoria laughed. "Do you know, he's not a bad cook! It's almost a shame he's a lancer, I think he might be happier in civilian employment...And he is honest..."

"He can act as his own bouncer," Diego put in.

"As long as he does not eat up all the profits, I think he will do very well."

On the trip back passed in a stream of contented chatter. Diego showed off the rose oil Felipe had given him and told her about the chemistry lessons. Victoria told funny stories about a family that had recently stayed with her. They had quarreled about everything. All the time. "They were even worse than you and Don Gilberto," she said, laughing.

"Gilberto and I never argue," Diego protested with a serious face. "Even if we weren't both mild and even tempered by nature, we never disagree."

Victoria nearly fell out of the carriage laughing.

Z

Lunch was supposed to be a relaxed, pleasant affair. Simple and undemanding, since the party was coming later in the afternoon. Don Carlos accidently put an end to that, though, before the bread even reached the table. "So I hear you were in town yesterday for the excitement," he said. He had no way of knowing it was a delicate topic.

Margarita, glowing with enthusiasm, launched - again - into the tale of Zorro's magnificent ride into the pueblo. She praised his cleverness and boldness. She went on and on, until Diego remarked - without a smile - that boldness was one way to describe 'completely lacking in subtlety.'

Victoria, who had been quiet, almost distracted, until that point, immediately chastised Diego for being too critical. "I suppose you will also complain that the alcalde was unsubtle!"

The look that Margarita gave Diego was openly hurt. "How can you! After all Zorro has done for the people! His move was brilliant. He made fools of the alcalde's men."

Impatient, Rafael slapped the table. "This Zorro's the fool. The peasants might be fond of him, but under law, he's just another criminal."

"That's true," Don Alejandro said. "If he's ever caught, Zorro will surely hang."

"The people would never allow it," Victoria said staunchly. "Zorro is a great hero."

"What a thought," Gilberto muttered.

Margarita and Rafael were quarrelling, now. Felipe had no idea what they were saying, since they were both talking at the same time.

Gilberto said something that made Diego kick him under the table.

Don Carlos gave Felipe an incredulous look and smothered a laugh. Felipe tried to smile back, but the quarreling wasn't just embarrassing. The subject of Zorro's fate at the hands of the law wasn't something he enjoyed thinking about.

Something Rafael had said must have irked Victoria, because she turned suddenly and said, "No, you have it all wrong. Zorro Doesn't - "

Margarita bristled at the criticism directed at her fiancé. "And I suppose you know better!"

"Of course I know better. I live here in Los Angeles. I have actually met him." She smiled wistfully. "I have spoken to Zorro many times."

Margarita opened her mouth, from the look on her face to say something scathing, but Don Alejandro cleared his throat loudly and said, "What is the latest news from the territorial capital?"

Rafael came to himself first. He shot Margareta a dark look and quickly apologized. The conversation from there wandered to the various petty scandals of Monterrey: the shamefully public quarrel between the head of the garrison and the harbormaster, the visit of an American (!) ship in July, a long-standing feud over water rights that turned suddenly to murder. The rest of the meal passed in relative peace.

The whole thing was just stupid, of course. Pining after Zorro! There was a lot to be said for heroism, but living with a hero, having to talk to him every day, putting up with his whims, that was something else entirely. Zorro was very good with a sword, but to have sit with at every meal? He was insufferable! Arrogant and vane and irritable. Felipe had reason to know. He'd lived most of his life with "Zorro," and it had only been bearable because mutual dislike let them avoid each other's company most of the time.

Z

"You should tell her," Felipe said as Diego sat down on the edge of his bed to remove his shoes for siesta.

"Tell her what?" he asked absently.

Felipe rolled his eyes. "That you want to marry her."

Diego froze. "That I - "

Felipe nodded with exaggerated patience.

"We're friends. There is nothing else between us."

Well, that was true. "She likes you, though. She likes you a lot."

Diego shifted his eyes away, and Felipe followed into his field of vision. "She likes you more than Gilberto. On and on about Zorro. It wouldn't be a good idea. She would be happier with you."

Very softly, very patiently, Diego said, "She will find someone. It won't be Zorro. But she'll find someone, and she'll be happy."

"It might be Zorro," Felipe protested. "It would be a mistake, but Gilberto has to marry someone, and she's very beautiful. He might..."

Diego was slowly shaking his head. "Do you know, if I thought Gilberto would be happy with her, I could almost...but he wouldn't be. He wouldn't...he barely finds women tolerable, at least when thinking of them as wives. He is twenty-five, and in his whole life...he has only ever loved one."

Oh. Tentatively, Felipe asked, "Can't he marry her?"

Diego looked at Felipe hard. "Zafira was intelligent and bold and as forthright as any man. She...could keep up with him." He took a breath and collected himself. "But the moment she wasn't the center of attention, the moment it was clear she didn't have him completely wrapped around her finger...She was quite cruel. The easiest thing to say is that she toyed with his affections." He laughed once, mirthlessly. "The honest thing to say is that she broke his heart. If their genders had been reversed, and Gilberto had been my twin sister and Zafira some suitor, well, I would have had to challenge him for such base behavior."

Felipe just blinked at that. Diego said such odd things sometimes. Gilberto a girl! Just bizarre.

Diego nodded. "But you cannot challenge a woman, no mater how cruel she is." And that thought was just as odd, but at least familiar. "Ah, well. In any case I was much too ill then to even think of lifting a sword, so it is just as well that Gilberto was born my brother. But. He would not ever be happy with Victoria. She is far too sweet for him."

"So," Felipe prodded. "She would be happy with you. She likes you a lot!"

"Felipe...I could never be a good husband to her."

Well that was just too absurd a thing to let pass, even for Diego. "What do you mean? You wouldn't beat her or turn her out in the street. You'd let her buy anything she wanted! And you'd never complain or scold - "

Diego was shaking his head. "Leaving aside how cruel it would be to widow her so young...women expect husbands to give them children," he answered softly. "Felipe, you know how these things happen. I am not strong enough."

Felipe had a sudden, horrible image of the mares in the meadow...and the stallions. Surly, surely between men and women it was nothing like that.

He certainly hoped not.

But even if it wasn't, Diego still couldn't take a flight of stairs without stopping in the middle to get his breath. And stopping again, at the top. Oh, God, but it was so unfair! Diego had fought so hard and come so far and still, he would never have the life that he wanted.

"If you'll forgive me, Felipe, I don't want to continue this conversation."

Hastily - embarrassed, confused, knotted up with pity - Felipe signed an apology and backed away into the sitting room. It was just so unfair. So many men were bad husbands or terrible fathers...so many people didn't appreciate the lives they had. And here, Diego...

As hard as it would be to share Diego's attention with Victoria all the time, Felipe was old enough to know that it was not the same...and that Diego deserved the grown-up happiness he'd waited so long for.

He sat on the floor with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up and hid his face.

Z

Diego was just rising from siesta when there was a soft knock at the door. Felipe finished slipping on his shoes and quickly opened the door: Father Benitez. Felipe smiled and stepped back. Father Benitez smiled back and blessed him.

Diego came around the corner. "Who is it - ?"

"I thought, since I was a little early, I might check to see how you were doing."

"That was very thoughtful," Diego said. "Thank you."

Father Benitez eyed him shrewdly. "But perhaps you would rather have forgotten, today?"

"Perhaps I would, but I can never quite manage it."

"Come sit down, then. Let me take a look." He led Diego to desk and pulled out the straight chair. Felipe settled on the stool across the room to wait. He had seen his examination before. The priest briskly checked ankles and fingertips. He tilted Diego's head back and checked his eyes. "Are you sleeping well? Any trouble with your digestion?" He placed his ear on Diego's chest and listened in several places, alternately instructing him to breathe...and then not. Felipe knew what the priest was looking for in all of these, but it was when he bared Diego's neck and ran his fingers up the sides - this was the part that always puzzled him. "What are - ?" Abruptly he remembered how rude it was to interrupt - and he was disturbing a priest, at that - and snatched his hands down.

"Felipe? Were you saying something?" Diego asked.

'

They were both looking at him, now. Wincing inwardly, Felipe asked, "What are you looking for, in his neck?"

Father Benitez crossed himself swiftly and traded an inscrutable look with Diego. "I am an idiot," he said.

"Both of us," Diego said. "Come here."

Nervously, Felipe approached. Father Benitez took his arm and guided him around to the lighter side. "It is a matter of circulation. How do I explain this? The heart moves blood through fine tubes in the body."

Diego touched his hand. "Father, he spends a great deal of time with the medical books. I had thought it was general interest. Or perhaps...well, there are injuries, sometimes, on a ranch." And, of course, someday the soldiers shooting at Zorro might not miss, and yes, that had been part of it.

Father Benitez nodded. "I see. Well, then. If the action of the heart is ineffective...you have seen a stream that is blocked by a log? How the water backs up on one side and trickles out on the other? A trickle exiting the heart may result in weakness, but that is not the only sign."

Felipe saw it all at once: "The blood that can't pass through will back up and swell the veins!" And you could see it, there where the veins passed beneath the skin in the neck.

"What was that last, Diego?"

"Fingerspelling," Diego whispered. "'Veins.'"

"Yes. You have it. It is not proof of disaster, by itself. But it is something to watch."

Felipe nodded.

"Hmmm. What else?" he frowned. "Diego tells me your hearing is not particularly good, even now? You cannot hear his heart? Here, give me your hand."

Though it felt terribly awkward, there was no way to refuse even if Felipe had wanted to. He held out his right hand. Father Benitez pressed it against Diego's back. "Just here. What do you feel?"

Both of them were looking at him, which made it hard to pay attention, but after a moment he realized what the priest must be looking for. He withdrew his hand and said, "Like a cat, purring."

"Yes, how apt. Very like a cat."

"It shouldn't feel like that..." Felipe realized. He knew the feel of his own heart, and Sunshine's, and a new lamb's. "What is this? How do we fix it?"

Father Benitez gave him a hard, sad look. "It cannot be fixed. I have seen this myself only a few times, but it is the most compelling evidence that the true problem lies with the valves of his heart. They cannot be repaired by any means we know. And the vibration will grow worse...although, with the Good Lord's help, the change will be so slow that you do not notice it."

Felipe thought of the diagrams in the anatomy book, and their neat Latin labels. He swallowed dryly and nodded.

"Do not panic and check every day. You are with him every day. You would know he was in trouble without that. But look, if he is feeling poorly and you find vibration here...or here..." He laid Felipe's hand flat along Diego's ribs. "That is when you ask for help."

"The water in him. But we would know before that. If he stopped peeing."

Father Benitez's brows rose. "You told me he was quick, Diego. And yes, that is one cause of congestion in the lungs. But not the only one, and it would be a serious problem whatever the cause."

"Oh. Now," Diego said. "Don't look at me like that. I wouldn't conceal it if I were ill."

"Of course not," Father Benitez said smoothly. "But you are an optimist. You might wait an extra day, hoping things would improve by themselves. Felipe is not an optimist."

Felipe nodded. "Please," he said, "what else?"

"The rest of it you know, I think. You've been paying attention for months." He turned back to Diego. "As for you, you are clearly quite well. There is no need to waste your time with all this fussing. I'll leave you alone to finish dressing."

Z

Although the party was small, everyone was very dressed up and formal. It was very grand. Don Alejandro and Gilberto played a four-handed piece as the evening began. The music was complex and playful and it made Felipe's bones itch to do...something? Dance, perhaps? Fly? Race across a field on Sunshine's back?

The music lessons must be helping. As big and strong as the music was, he didn't feel the least like wanting to hide or cover his ears.

When they had finished the piece, Don Alejandro rose to begin the evening with a toast. As glasses were filed and passed around it seemed to Felipe that Don Alejandro was more solemn than proud or happy. It occurred to him that - with Diego so ill and the territory so torn by conflict and corruption - that he might find this party difficult.

"Twenty-five years," he said. "My sons are twenty-five." He glanced down, then back over his guests. "Do you know, when the midwife told me there were two...that was when I learned the meaning of fear. Two children and my Felicidad, and the thought that I might lose all of them in just a few hours or days..." He shrugged. "And I thought, how naive I had been, taking it all for granted, thinking becoming a father would be easy. But then, well, you have seen them. Two perfect sons. Intelligent, strong, fearless..."

Here he smiled a little. "When they were seven, they decided to teach themselves to handle livestock. They started by roping the goats. That wasn't challenging enough so they tried the pigs...When they were nine, they discovered that if you attached a rope to the ledge over the hayloft in the barn, you could swing from the roof of the house to the roof of the woodshed. I had the woodshed torn down and moved." Several people laughed at that. Felipe was sorry to have missed it, though.

"When they were twelve, they borrowed my best horse and took turns leaping Devil's Gorge." He studied his glass of wine and waited for the scattered laughter to die down. "When they were sixteen, they brought home a small child. I was as frightened of that as I was of the trick with the rope and the roof. I was sure it could only end in utter heartbreak." His eyes fastened apologetically on Felipe, and Felipe could not bring himself to look away. "Of course, I knew there was no point in talking to Diego. He was too kind-natured to see reason, I thought. So I appealed to 'Berto," he cleared his throat. Twice. "Who very quickly explained that however sadly this ended, it would be better than if they had left him...and that if they had, 'Berto himself would never have slept another night in peace as long as he lived."

That? Gilberto had said that?

"They were right, as I quickly came to see. I think perhaps Felipe has given us much more than we have given him."

Shocked and mortified, Felipe took a step backwards. Diego's hand closed on his shoulder, steadying and stilling him.

"When I sent them to Madrid...For months, I...well I couldn't regret it, obviously. I could hardly begrudge them the chance to see the world. As...As much as the difficulties in Madrid took from them, they were strong enough, brave enough to make the return home. I suspect many men could not have managed so much. Everything they have undertaken, my boys, no matter how mad or how impossible or how dangerous...they have succeeded. They are patient and kind and as much help as anyone could ask. Diego has taken over the domestic accounts and Gilberto...That business with the witch last fall; everyone credits me with discovering the fraud. But it was only at Gilberto's urging that I tested her. He was the shrewd one, not I. So. To my sons. Happy birthday. And to the next twenty-five years of scaring me out of my wits."

There was toasting and scattered applause. Gilberto looked as aghast as Felipe felt, but Diego stepped forward and offered a toast of his own. No doubt it was graceful and affectionate, but Felipe was too giddy to properly listen. When the guests dispersed for a few minutes for snacks and small conversations. Diego pulled them both aside into the hall that led to the bedrooms. "What is the matter with the two of you?"

"He knows," Gilberto hissed. "Did you hear him? He knows!"

Diego shook him. Fairly hard. "No!" he whispered fiercely. "Stop being stupid. If he knew, he would confront you. Father does not play games. Does he?"

Gilberto dropped his head. "No...but."

"Well then?"

"You saw the way he looked at me?"

"As though he were proud of you? Yes? He loves you. It's hardly a shock."

"Yes, yes, but..."

"Stop being an idiot. Right now. We do not have time." He fixed Gilberto with a hard look until he caved. "Get a hold of yourself. Smile. Go be charming." Diego patted his shoulder and nudged him back toward the crowd.

Then he turned to Felipe. "And you?" He signed close to his body. "Are you also sure we are discovered?"

Felipe shook his head. "He trusts me," he confessed. "He thinks I am only taking care of you, and - " What a lie. He was helping Diego in madness, helping Gilberto endanger himself. Keeping the most important secret in the pueblo.

Diego sighed impatiently. "Aren't you? I am much better now than I was when I came home. What we're doing hasn't hurt me. You haven't failed in your duty."

Felipe bit his lip.

Diego sighed. "Do you remember why we started this? Did we have a choice?"

No, of course not.

"Who would be the first casualty, if the alcalde pushes the people to rebellion? Father and Gilberto will be in the middle of any fight. They could not bear to be anywhere else." He slipped a arm around Felipe's shoulder and drew him closer. "Zorro protects this family as much as anyone."

Oh. That was a good point. Still. "He'll be angry when he finds out."

Diego shook his head. "He will be hurt that we kept it from him, but he will understand why." Diego sighed. "He will only be angry if Zorro gets caught."

True. And too horrible to think about.

"All right, Felipe? Now, can you go out there and behave normally and smile? On my birthday?"

So Felipe went back to the party. It would be easiest to find a corner and get out of the way, though: There weren't many people who could talk with him. Gilberto was with Don Antonio and Victoria was whispering with the older Pascal girl. Then a hand tapped his shoulder and Felipe jumped.

"Felipe?" Don Luis was smiling at him. "Everyone says you are the young man to ask for fishing advice. I'll be in town for a few days this time, and I was thinking...since the weather is so nice...?"

"Lots of small fish, or big, smart fish?"

He must have understood that, because Don Luis laughed and said, "Big fish."

Felipe motioned him over to the desk and on a largish scrap of paper (Diego collected them) swiftly drew a map. He knew just the place. It was too near both the mission and the King's Road to be one of Felipe's favorites (too many people), but it was conveniently close to Don Carlos,' where Don Luis was staying.

Clearly pleased, Don Luis checked a couple of the landmarks, then carefully folded the map and put it away. By then, fortunately, it was time for dinner and all Felipe had to worry about was eating.

Z

The meal was pleasant enough. Felipe was seated next to Margarita's duenna, who seemed very stern, but slipped Felipe half her desert when no-one was looking.

After supper, as the party made its way back to the parlor, Don Alejandro slipped behind Felipe and laid an arm across his shoulder. "What I said before," he said quietly, "I didn't upset you, did I?"

Felipe smiled as convincingly as he could and shook his head.

"These past months, you've been so good with Diego. I appreciate it. I know - I know it has been as hard for you as for the rest of us."

Unable to even begin to answer that, Felipe hugged Don Alejandro hard around the waist. That seemed to satisfy him. A few moments later he turned away to say something to Don Luis and Felipe stepped backwards.

In his haste, he nearly walked into Victoria. She didn't notice. She was narrowly watching Margarita, who was closing from the other side. She had a sly look about her, and Felipe wondered what she might be up to.

"Why, Victoria, my dear." Margarita smiled sweetly. "I am so sorry I was short with you earlier. I had no idea who you were. I hope you'll forgive my ignorance. I do so want to hear your story first hand!"

She was so earnest and enthusiastic that Victoria took a half-step backward. "Hardly more ignorant than I am," she said carefully. "Who am I?"

Margarita laughed delicately, "Why the old peasant woman Zorro rescued from the gallows last fall."

Victoria gaped.

Felipe looked around a little franticly, but Diego and Gilberto were far away, on opposite sides of the room...and Cousin Rafael was over by the piano. And Don Alejandro was deep in discussion with the older men. And no one was looking in this direction.

Margarita was pressing her advantage. "You aren't old, obviously. Well, not very old. But you know how these stories get embellished with the telling. That's why I am so anxious to hear it from you. It must have been so terrifying, dragged away by lancers and tossed into a filthy dungeon."

Holding herself very erect and speaking with exaggerated politeness, she answered, "The soldiers were very polite, the cell was very clean and in the jail, not a dungeon. And I am not a peasant."

Margarita's eyes widened innocently. "Oh, but I did know that, didn't I? I'm so sorry. You...work in a tavern."

Victoria actually blanched at that. And for a moment Felipe couldn't figure out why, since - for all that her tone of voice was scathing - the words were true. Felipe figured out that Margarita had called Victoria a prostitute at about the same moment that Victoria slapped Margarita across the face.

Margarita gasped, a dainty hand going to her face. She leaned toward Victoria and whispered, "If this is how women in Los Angeles behave, I can certainly imagine that Zorro is ready for a change!"

"If you think Zorro would have anything to do with a rich, lazy, selfish bitch who lives off the hard work of others - " She broke off, ducking, as Margarita swung a heavy vase at her head. Water from the vase sloshed over Felipe's chest and he skipped backward. His foot came down wrong, and he started to fall. A strong hand pushed him back up, and he looked in time to see Gilberto slide past him, insert himself between Victoria and Margarita and catch the flailing vase on the backswing.

Replacing the dripping vase on the table, he seized Victoria in one hand and Felipe in the other and hustled them - his broad body between Victoria and Margarita - across the hall to Diego who was standing, astonished, in the library. Gilberto pushed Victoria into Diego's arms. "For God's sake, get her out of here!"

Felipe looked back. Rafael had an arm around Margarita and was leading her toward the front door. Good. Perhaps he could get her aside and talk some sense into her. Or calm her down. Or remind her what manners were -

Or feed her to a passing mountain lion.

Margarita probably thought it was beneath her to expend manners on Victoria. Felipe felt a little sick. But really, he shouldn't be so surprised. He'd been spoiled, living with the de le Vegas. They were polite to everyone. Don Alejandro never forgot to say thank you to anyone, even the stable boy.

Diego had taken Victoria's arm and was escorting her - as grandly as though they were going in to church - toward the back door.

Those remaining in the room - the Pascals, Don Luis, Don Carlos, Father Benitez - looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. Given the choice of staying with them or following Diego and Victoria, Felipe chose the latter.

He trailed them into the back courtyard. "Oh, Diego - "

"Isn't it a lovely evening," Diego said cheerfully. "We've had an owl out here recently. Perhaps if - "

She pulled her arm free and moved to stand in front of him. "Don Diego I am so sorry! and on your birthday and everything. I don't know what came over me."

Diego sighed. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what that was all about?"

"It was nothing. It was stupid."

Diego considered her. "You slapped her over nothing?"

Victoria shrugged and looked away.

Well, that wasn't right. Victoria had been provoked, even if she was too polite to say so. He tapped Diego's shoulder and when he looked he said, "The woman - " he was not going to bother giving Margarita a name - "called her a peasant and a - " Oh. No. He couldn't repeat that, and now he saw why Victoria wouldn't. He gulped and dropped his hands.

"I see," Diego said. He turned back to Victoria. "Do you think you hit her hard enough?"

Victoria gasped. Then she started to laugh.

She didn't see Diego close his eyes and collect himself before he took her hand and patted it reassuringly. She looked earnestly up at him and apologized for making a fuss at the party.

"You are normally our least troublesome guest." He sighed. "I confess, I am not sure what Rafael sees in her."

"She is beautiful," Victoria said immediately.

"Oh. Well, then. She has my sympathy. It must be unbearable to come here to our little backwater and find herself outshone by you."

Felipe was startled by this outrageous flattery, but Victoria only sighed and tucked her hand through Diego's arm. "How do you manage to be so calm and patient? If you started a fight during my party..."

"I've fought in your tavern twice! You were very forgiving both times."

It occurred to Felipe that - for all Diego's protests that they were only friends - something might be gained by leaving them alone at this moment. Silently, he slipped back to the house.

Don Carlos was playing the guitar while the two Pascal girls, Don Luis and Gilberto, did some kind of complicated partner dance. He found a corner to sit and watch. To his disappointment, it was only a few minutes before Diego and Victoria returned to the party. When Don Alejandro asked Victoria to dance, Diego gave her up with no sign of regret.

There was dancing and party games. When Rafael and Margarita returned, Margarita and Victoria were carefully kept on opposite sides of the room, although everyone pretended not to notice the tension between them.

Don Alejandro presented his sons with their birthday gifts: new saddles for both of them (which pleased Gilberto because he was vane and Diego because it conveyed his father's certainty he would be well enough to make good use of it). The boy's gifts for each other were as boring as promised. Diego gave a box of new silk cravats (expensive, but so dull that Felipe had to hide his laugh behind his hand), while Gilberto gave jars of pigment powder (something Diego really did appreciate).

The party ended before midnight. Really good parties usually didn't, but Felipe suspected that the reason for the early evening wasn't because people weren't having fun but rather because everyone had gotten used to the idea that Diego tired easily, and they didn't wish to embarrass him.

Even so, Felipe thought the party had gone on a bit too long. Diego concealed his unsteadiness until the guests who were leaving had been escorted to their carriages and the guests who were staying had returned to their rooms...but then he allowed Gilberto to take his arm and walk him to the chair in his room. He sat heavily and closed his eyes.

"I think Father was pleased with the party," Gilberto said. He lifted Diego's hand and checked the pulse at his wrist.

"He doesn't know, 'Berto."

"No. Thank God. He'd get involved..."

"He would be delighted," Diego answered. "And he would be so proud of you. But he would worry too much...and fuss too much... and interfere too much...And in the end, because of me, he would - "

"Hush, Diego. Enough. How much is he taking before bed now?"

Felipe was already fixing the cup. He turned enough to say, "Five drops, but I'm giving him seven tonight."

Gilberto nodded. "Yes, I think so. Are you tired? I can sit with him for an hour, to make sure?"

Carefully, Felipe handed Diego the cup. "It's fine. Go to bed." He found it wasn't too hard to smile. "Happy birthday."

~tbc