Chapter 6

Dinner at the de la Vega hacienda had been delicious and the talk at the table had come to a lull. Diego saw his opportunity and took it.

"Father, weren't you going to talk to Juan about the new bull today?"

"Oh! You're right. I nearly forgot. I'm so glad you reminded me. Victoria, if you will pardon me? I do want to make sure he understands my instructions."

"Oh, of course." She smiled at Don Alejandro as he left quickly. Several uncomfortable seconds passed. Then they both began to speak at the same time.

"Diego, I—"

"Victoria, Would you—" Diego held up a hand. "Sorry, you first."

"Well, I was just going to say 'thank you' for the lovely meal. This has been a most pleasant evening. And you?"

"Hmm." He tapped a finger on his lips as if wondering what he should say. When he hesitated, Victoria decided to continue.

"Padre Benitez says you are going to recite some poetry for the children next week. What poems have you chosen?"

"I haven't really. I was thinking of a few Shakespearean sonnets, but they did not seem quite appropriate, so—"

"Why not?"

"The pupils are all younger under twelve and the sonnets are…well…romantic…hardly appropriate."

"Then, let's go find some that are appropriate." She folded her napkin and backed her chair from the table.

"To the library then." Diego agreed.

They rose together and made their way to the library.

Settling rather awkwardly on the love seat together, they slowly began sifting through some volumes of poetry and plays. At Victoria's request, Diego began reading aloud the ones he had previously marked for her approval. It did seem like none were going to be very suitable for the children. Every single one of the ones he had picked out caused her to think of nothing else but love and romance.

"How about this one? It has always been a particular favorite of mine." Diego began to read.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day—"

"No! Not that one!"

"But it is lovely. The cadence is perfect—" He stopped and looked over at her. "Too romantic?"

"No, it's just—" She looked uneasy as she tried to explain. "It's the one Zorro…" Her voice trailed away to nothing.

"Oh, him again! Well, we cannot allow me to tread into that territory, can we?" He began turning the pages in a somewhat irritated fashion. "Perhaps one of these later ones. I shall keep looking."

Her eyes stole a glance at his face as he turned the pages. She hadn't wanted to anger him, but she feared that was exactly what she'd done. Why was it that he just couldn't understand her feelings for Zorro? They were the two men more important to her than life itself, and it seemed Diego was continuously at odds with Zorro. If she was willing to talk about this, this nameless love of his, then why couldn't Diego at least calmly discuss Zorro with her sometimes?

"I do not suppose this one is a possibility either but it is so lovely" He cleared his throat softly, and then he started reading and she leaned back and closed her eyes.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:"

The timber of his voice suited the beauty of the words so well. She couldn't suppress a small sigh as he continued.

"O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken."

He looked up from the book, but continued to recite. This was one of his favorites and he'd committed it to memory long ago.

"Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom."

He paused for effect before reciting the last couplet.

"If this be in error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

As he finished the last line, he looked over at her expectantly. It was obvious from her face that she was lost in a vision the poem had conjured up for her. For a brief moment, he was pleased at this effect his recitation had had on her. Then it occurred to him she was probably relating the words to his "rival". He closed the book rather loudly to draw her out of her reverie. "So, this one meets with your approval then?"

"Oh, yes. That one is very nice!" She said it almost absentmindedly. How could he get back her attention? This whole evening was going nothing like he had planned. He got up from the loveseat, took her hands, and pulled her to her feet.

"Come with me to the garden." He held onto one hand and led her out into the courtyard. "Much nicer out here, don't you think? Now, I'm ready for another lesson."

"I'm beginning to think you never needed lessons in the first place. I think you've been holding back on me. Just how experienced are you with women, Diego?"

"Experienced? You never once asked me about my experience." He had that look of devilment again in his eyes.

"Well, then, Señor de la Vega, I am asking you now! How much experience have you had?"

She made a show of reaching up to straighten his cravat. She liked the formal attire he had chosen for tonight. He did seem to be paying more attention to his clothes lately. When she found him staring at her, not answering her question, she stopped. The gesture had been quite intimate and she had only just realized it.

"That would depend on the kind of experience we are talking about." He caught both her hands in his and raised them to his mouth. She smiled, expecting him to kiss the back of one of them to once again display how he had learned that very first lesson. But she drew a sharp intake of breath when she saw him turn her palms toward his face and place a slow, tender kiss on the center of each one. Then his lips moved to her fingertips, progressing slowly from one to the next. Her breathing became deeper and her heartbeat began to race as she watched him. She felt a growing impatience inside as her whole body trembled in response to what he was doing.

Then he suddenly stepped back two feet, dropping her hands abruptly and announced in a cheerful voice, "I picked that up on a side trip to Paris." Then he turned on his heel and strode back into the library.

It took her several minutes to compose herself. Then she ran into the room after him. She found him with his nose already buried in the book of poetry again. "I was thinking…" he said, "there are plenty of nice long speeches in some of the plays that would perhaps be more suitable—"

"In Paris!" She couldn't quite control the hard edge of her voice. "And just who taught you that in Paris?"

"Who?" His face reflected complete bafflement. Then the smallest hint of merriment twinkled in his eyes. "Does it matter? That was an awfully long time ago. I am not sure I can even remember just—"

"Have you tried that on your mystery woman yet?" She was still speaking sternly and just a little bit too loudly.

"Yes. Just recently, as a matter of fact."

"And?"

"You could say it produced the desired effect." He paused. "And then some."

"Diego!" She was truly shocked at his behavior. Her boring caballero was turning into quite a ladies' man and she didn't like it. She did not like it at all, not one bit. "How could you—"

"You know," he interrupted her before she could get too excited. Servants probably had ears to every door. "If I did not know better, I would swear you were jealous."

"Jealous! You'll never see the day, Señor de la Vega!" She crossed her arms and stamped a pretty foot.

"Oh, really, Señorita Escalante?" He got up, stepped forward to her, tossed the book on a chair and took out his pocket watch. Grabbing for her wrist with his other hand and holding it curiously between two fingers, he began looking at the timepiece intently.

"What are you doing?" But he gave her no answer. "Diego, what do you think you are—"

"Shhh!" For several more long seconds, he continued looking at the timepiece and holding her wrist.

"Diego, if this is something else you learned in Paris," she spat out the word at him, "then I want nothing to do—" She stopped as he abruptly let go and slipped the watch back into the pocket of his chaqueta..

He announced in a very matter-of-fact tone, "The pulse rate of a señorita of your age has been found to be, on the average, about 72 beats per minutes. Yours, right now, is about 93 beats per minute. I would say that constitutes a scientific finding of 'jealousy'!"

"Hah! That's preposterous!" Her mouth dropped open at the idea of it.

"Jealousy is an enteral response. An increased heart rate is a sure sign of that. Are you going to argue with medical science itself?" He looked probingly into her widened eyes.

"I've never heard of such…So what if it is faster? Why, I'm so mad at you, I could—"

"And why is that? Just exactly what have I done to cause so much anger? Hmm?"

The look on his face infuriated her even more. "You're being ridiculous, that's what!"

"The fact that I appear to have learned some … techniques… in the subject of romance from some other source, other than yourself, and have practiced said techniques on a hitherto un-named female has nothing to do with it?"

"Nothing!" Her eyes were as hot as coals. "The day I become jealous of you…well… I just…"

But her words faltered as she watched him calmly turn his back on her and seat himself at the piano as if she were not even there. He began playing a soft, soothing piece of music she had never heard before now. Her eyes flitted back and forth between his hands moving elegantly across the keyboard to his handsome, passive face. Why was it he could make her so angry, and so quickly. It was so typical of him to do a complete change like this and pretend as if nothing was wrong. Well, this time, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of … Of what? She was angry. And she wasn't even sure why. She willed her heart to slow down its beat. After a few minutes, she slid down onto the piano seat beside him. With a controlled, even voice, she asked, "So what is the name of this?"

"It is called 'Fur Elise', a piece by Beethoven. I received the music only last week. Lovely, isn't it?"

"Yes." She was moved as much by the sight of his long, slim fingers touching, no, almost caressing the keys as the beautiful music itself. "It must be nice to be able to have music whenever you like. I wish I knew how to play like this." She spoke quietly so as not to disturb the mood.

"I could teach you." He glanced down at her as he continued to play softly. "But could you handle my giving you lessons?"

"And just what do you mean by that?" Her anger flared once more.

"Calm down. It is just that I don't think you believe me to be accomplished at very many 'useful' skills."

"But playing the piano is—"

"—Not considered very utilitarian by most of the people in the pueblo."

"But it's creating something beautiful! For people to enjoy. You've played for many of the people and they've enjoyed it. I know they have!"

He smiled inwardly at her defense of him. "Not very useful, though, is it? Not like…say…fencing…or fighting?"

"If you don't want to talk about Zorro, then why do you keep bringing him up?" She knew she'd surprised him then. He opened his mouth to reply, but she kept talking. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to make me think of what he might be like when he's not being the hero."

"Well, no. But it is a valid point. Somewhere underneath that mask, he is just a man. A man with faults and imperfections. A man who does not always succeed at everything he attempts. Are you ready to accept that man?"

"I think so." Her voice was only a whisper. "I'm just afraid of one thing."

"And what is that?" He was suddenly very concerned. His eyes searched her face as she answered him.

"Well, every time we have been together, it's always so rushed, so hurried. It's always exciting, but I wonder if …when there's really time to be together, will I enjoy being with him doing something normal. Will I be as comfortable with him someday as I am with you, for example?"

"Comfortable," Diego repeated. "Much like an old shoe? Please, any more compliments like that, and I shall have to—"

"Oh, Diego, you know what I mean. We laugh, we joke, we—"

"We fight?" They both burst out laughing.

"Yes." Their eyes met and locked and the laughter died on their lips. There was an unseen pull that existed between them, and they began to give in to it as their faces neared each other. But Victoria blinked and pulled back.

She got up from the bench and announced that she must leave. "It's late, and I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow."

"I will ride back with you." He stood.

But she refused. "No, I can find my way back perfectly on my own."

He bowed and seemingly accepted her wishes. But the minute the door closed behind her, he was making his way back to the sala and the secret panel into the cave. Zorro would make sure once again she got home safely.