Diego pushed the boundaries more and more for the rest of the week. Soon his bedroom was full of books, writing materials, an easel, and his telescope. Victoria chuckled as the telescope was carried in.
"Diego, how on earth are you going to use all of this?" She asked, gesturing at the piles of things. The easel sat near the window to catch the light, the telescope was propped alongside. Books had been piled on the desk and the nightstand, and a small tray had been supplied with paper, blank journals and letter writing equipment.
"Would you like me to look for them as I need them?" Diego said, his eyes twinkling a little. He remembered his feelings for Victoria, and she seemed more attentive to him than he remembered. Not that he remembered much still.
"Heavens no," she admitted with a smile.
"Can I draw you later? Can you sit for me?" Diego asked. He vaguely remembered doing it once before, at least. "I remember I drew you before."
"Yes, for my election campaign," she said softly, before covering her mouth with her hands.
"No harm done, Victoria. We can talk about that, surely?" Diego said, interest growing in his mind. Maybe this time he could build on the fragile pieces of memory. "Election campaign?"
She sighed. "I don't really think the doctor knows how to deal with this amnesia."
"Maybe not," Diego murmured. "According to my medical book over there, traumatic amnesia is as different as the patient. Everyone responds differently to treatment, and different methods work for different people."
Victoria smiled. This was the Diego she used to know. The bookworm, the researcher, the knower of knowledge.
"Well, the election campaign was some time ago. We discovered that the alcalde position can be based on elections…" She found herself relating the history of the doomed chance she had had to become alcalde. The fact that she was a woman didn't seem to be an issue until the alcalde declared the election void.
"A pity that someone else didn't run after that," Diego said thoughtfully. "I know you would have made a wonderful alcalde, Victoria."
"How do you know that? Half your memory is gone," she teased. He frowned a little. "I didn't mean it as a complaint, Diego. I don't think…"
"But it is true," Diego said. "I don't know how I know, but I do. Just as I know I…" A rosy flush grew on his face, travelling to his neckline. He swallowed, and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"What, Diego?"
"Nothing. I just know a few things, without knowing why, that's all."
She moved towards the window, opening the curtains wider. "I know you like as much light as possible," she said kindly. "What do you plan to do today?"
"I have letters to reread and answer. Maybe there are some clues in there. Thank you by the way for convincing my father to hand them back to me. I have the feeling that I owe you a lot these last few days."
"What are friends for?" She said, running her fingers over the telescope thoughtfully.
"After the sun goes down, I can show you the moon and some constellations, if you want," Diego said, with a hopeful tone.
She smiled. "Not for too long, you will be tired, after all of this."
Zzz
Diego watched Victoria examine his books, his easel and his telescope. She seemed genuinely interested in him. He smiled softly at her, and left her to her exploration.
He turned to the letter immediately beside him. It was written on expensive paper, and written in an elegant hand.
Dear Diego,
I know you wait with baited breath for news about the troubles in Spain. There is talk of a national constitution with universal suffrage of all things, and other revolutionary ideas. A constitutional monarchy is on the books, and who knows what will ensue in the next few weeks, let alone a few years.
Napoleon has decided to invade Russia, heading an army of over 65,000 men. The outcome of such a venture is in doubt, as the weather becomes colder throughout Europe.
I read about the exploits of your bandit Zorro with amusement, and people in high society love to gossip about him. The ladies swear they will swoon if they ever glimpse him, and say they would die of fright if he ever talked to them.
Sorry the letter is short and sweet,
Looking forward to a return letter from you.
As always your friend,
Duque Marcel de Voltrain
Diego looked up from his reading. Duque de Voltrain? He could vaguely remember meeting the man somewhere. Where? The man wrote from Cadiz, he noticed.
"Who is Zorro?" Diego asked, innocent of the ramifications of his questions.
Victoria's response was dramatic. She swayed a little, and Diego raised his eyebrows.
"Sit down, Victoria," he said, pushing the covers off him. "You're going to pass out."
She stumbled into a chair, and Diego noticed her eyes filling with tears. He rose from the bed, and went to her side. He reached for her hand, as he knelt beside her.
"Someone? We need help here!" He shouted, as Victoria sighed and relaxed into a faint. He rubbed her hand gently, and murmured soothing sounds, wondering at her reaction.
A maid arrived, and disappeared again, to reappear with water and a moist cloth.
"I'll look after her," Diego said, waving at the girl to leave the room. He began to moisten Victoria's forehead, still murmuring soft words. She opened her eyes, but fought to keep them open.
"Here, drink this," Diego said firmly. "You have been working too hard, looking after me."
"No...no...that's not it," Victoria murmured, but obediently sipped at the glass of water that he held out. "It's just…" To Diego's horror, she burst into tears, sobbing. He awkwardly put his right arm around her, and she sobbed into his shirt.
He patted her clumsily, as she sobbed for several moments. Alejandro came to the bedroom door to check on the pair, as the maid had informed him of Victoria's distress.
Zzz
Alejandro watched his son struggle to comfort Victoria, and decided to assist him.
"What happened here, Diego?"
"I asked a question." Diego glanced up at his father. "I don't know how to help her."
"Let me," Alejandro said gently. "Come, Victoria. I think you need a rest from tending to Diego. Come with me. I'll see you to bed, you'll be alright."
Alejandro helped the young woman to her feet, and supported her gently.
"I didn't mean to upset her," Diego said softly.
"This has been overdue for days. She has had hardly any sleep since the accident. She just needs rest. She'll be fine, Diego."
Diego nodded, and made his way back to bed.
Zzz
Diego watched his father help Victoria out of the room. He stared at the letter that had fallen onto the covers, the letter that had prompted the question. What had the question been?
Who was Zorro? It had been an innocent enough question, but obviously something he should know something about. Who was Zorro? Somehow he had to find the answer to that question, if only to reassure Victoria that all was right with him.
He took out a blank journal and wrote on the first page. "Who is Zorro?" How was he to proceed in his investigations? Were there more letters from friends talking about him? It was definitely a 'him', as the ladies would attest to. Zorro, the fox. That was something else that he wrote down. A fox. What was this fox's business? He was said to be a bandit. He wrote that down too. It was a good project to challenge his mind.
The exertion of the excitement and the determination to investigate wore him out and shortly he was deeply asleep.
When Alejandro came back into the room to let him know that Victoria was resting peacefully, he moved the journal and pencil from his son's light grasp.
He drew in his breath, as the page opened up. "Who is Zorro," Alejandro whispered to himself, glancing at his son in concern. He wasn't sure what to do next.