Mirror Images
Diego
Mirror Images
Part 1: Diego
A/N: Warning: This story does not follow the exact plotline from the Monterrey episodes.
"It must be here somewhere — I just had it in my hand!" cried Margarita de la Vega in great exasperation, looking around the bedroom. Two days ago a long-sought family recipe had finally arrived from her sister Emmaline in Maryland. She had just brought the letter upstairs for safekeeping but had been distracted by a noise from the hacienda's rear courtyard. Leaning out the window and seeing nothing of importance she turned back into the room and suddenly discovered that both her hands were now empty.
"I must have set it down," she exclaimed, annoyance growing in her voice. She traversed the room, now running her hands over the coverlet and under the pillow tuck on the bed, now rifling the odds and ends on top of the dresser, now opening both doors of the wardrobe knowing full well she hadn't been anywhere near it. Finally she came to the desk. "This must be it," she muttered, examining the neat and uncluttered top. Sliding open the drawer her hands reached in and around and toward the back of the drawer. She was just about to give up and search everything again when her fingers touched a folded piece of paper: "Aha!" Still, as she withdrew what clearly felt like a single sheet, it did feel much lighter than her sister's typically lengthy missives.
She unfolded the paper and scanned the first few lines.
"My most beloved Zorro — Although we are parting for now, I swear I will keep you always in my heart and pray daily for your safety. Truly I know in my heart of hearts that one day you will come for me and unmask. Then we will be married and all California will celebrate your courage and your daring."
Suddenly her face grew somber:
My most beloved Zorro?
You will come for me?
Married?
At this moment the door swung open and Diego, back from the pueblo, stepped into the room. He observed her troubled face and asked, "Querida, is anything wrong?"
She slowly looked up from the letter then asked: "Diego, who is Anna Maria?"
He stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he looked up at her, took a deep breath, and began: "Several years ago Don Gregorio Verdugo of Monterrey offered to organize a supply ship to Spain. Many of the dons from Los Angeles, including my father, were willing to invest in it. But none of us knew anything of this man, so I was selected to journey to Monterrey, in advance, to judge his character and his motives. Anna Maria was his daughter."
Her face was neutral. "So you — and obviously Zorro — met her in Monterrey?"
"Si. At first we did not get along at all. In fact, she once drew a pistol on me."
"She what!?"
Diego waved her concern away. "It was trivial, really. She never would have shot me. Eventually we became friends, more or less. But in time I realized that I had feelings for her."
"And did she return your feelings?"
Her husband shook his head. "No." He took off his jacket, tossed it onto the bed, and leaned against one of the ornate bedposts. "Anna Marie never had feelings for me. But Anna Maria had deep feelings for Zorro. And Zorro wasn't even supposed to be there. Bernardo brought Zorro's costume even though I had told him not to. I suppose it was all for the best since I discovered a plot against Señor Verdugo and Zorro had to rescue him and Anna Maria. From then on Anna Marie would hear only of El Zorro."
Her face had softened. "And she felt nothing at all for you?"
He went to a small table, poured himself a glass of wine, and took a sip. "Well," he continued in a careless tone, "she used the words 'friend' and 'brother' often enough. But her love was only El Zorro."
"But you loved her," said Margarita quietly. "So what happened?"
"The governor actually made an offer of amnesty for Zorro. And for a time I had decided to accept it. But the longer I thought about it, the less appealing it seemed."
"What do you mean?"
"Anna Maria had declared that she would love whoever Zorro turned out to be. Yet she had expressed so little regard for Diego. If I accepted the amnesty and unmasked, and we married and Zorro ceased to exist, this would leave her wed to a man whom she loved 'like a brother'. What kind of marriage would that have been? He drained the glass and set it down. She might have tried to make the best of it. But without the cape and the sword and the daring would I, Diego, have been able to hold her love through the years? I didn't think so. So I ignored the offer of amnesty. And I let her go."
She read the pain in his eyes. "Diego, you must have been devastated."
"It was not an easy thing for me to do, I admit," he murmured.
"And Zorro just disappeared from Monterrey?"
"No. I did manage to see her one last time and tell her that for the present Zorro could not abandon those who depended on him. She seemed to understand, but I have never really been sure that she did."
"What about the letter?"
"Ah yes, the letter! That was earlier, when she thought she was leaving for Spain with her father. I'm not sure why I kept it. Really, I had forgotten about it." He reached out his hand and nodded toward the fireplace. "Here, give it to me. I will burn it."
But she set the letter back on the desk and folded her hands over it. "No, Diego, don't burn it. Certainly not for my sake."
"I do not understand."
You and I each had lives, before we met each other. You can burn the letter, but that won't destroy the past. It will still be with you. After all, Anna Maria is still in your memory, and she always will be. But that was then and this is now." She rose from the desk and tuned to face him, gently laying her hands on his shoulders. "Now I have deep feelings for Diego de la Vega, whether he is teaching our children to play chess or riding around on a great black stallion in the middle of the night trying to right some wrong."
He looked at her, shaking his head slightly from side to side, eyes full of love. "Now I know," he said quietly.
"Now you know what?"
"Now I know why I gave up Anna Maria. Somehow I knew that one day in my life I would find a woman who understood both Diego and Zorro and who was capable of loving both of them equally.
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