A Quiet Conversation

Gushing Stream was still asleep when he returned with the book, her dark hair still loose and draped around her like a princess in a fairy tale book. He smiled a little at his lady's beauty, even though her skin was deathly pale, as he sat down on the chair and opened the book. After a while he lay it upside down on his lap, and leant back in the chair as his thoughts wandered.

Alonso who? Enrique who? Where had Gushing Stream and her husband lived? How likely was an attack from Enrique? What did the man look like? Was he in Monterey nearby, was he abroad? How wealthy were they? Did they truly present a threat? What would he do if they approached him in any way?

His eyes drifted to his beloved, watching her chest rise and fall regularly, under the warm blankets. It was deeper than it had been before. There was still a slight wheeze to her breathing. The respiratory distress was still disturbing her.

The chair was comfortable and bathed in golden sunlight. The warmth soothed and relaxed him, and soon he was dozing. His exhaustion was beginning to overtake him, but he was really just resting his eyes. His legs stretched out in front of him, and his head nodded forward slowly, his chin finally resting on his chest. After a few moments, a soft snore would have told the rest of the world that he slept.

He woke later, distracted by soft feminine voices. He was almost startled out of his relaxed posture, but as he heard Marcela's soft voice, he pretended to sleep on. His sister was probably still angry with him. He didn't want raised voices in Gushing Stream's room.

"I don't understand Gushing Stream. Why Ignacio? Everything they say about him is true. He is a nasty cruel man, my family loyalty blinded me to it at first. I see quite well now, though. You are such a kind, gentle woman. Why him?"

"He's getting so much better. Marcela, why would Zorro become friends with him if he wasn't? Why would Padre Benitez commend him so highly. I can see with my own eyes how hard he is trying," Gushing Stream said softly. "Look at him, Marcela. Just look at him…"

"I'm looking. I see a pirate of a man – not a hero. Somehow all this goodness is a trick. It's a pity. I had thought so highly of him before."

"No. You are romantically inclined, and want to believe the best in people – better than they can possibly be. Such a high pedestal makes it easy to tumble from it." Gushing Stream's voice was soft but insistent. Just a trace of frustration could be heard in her patient voice. "Ideals are always wrong, when you try to place them on character. Everyone sins, my friend."

"He seduced you – with no intention of marriage…"

Gushing Stream chuckled a little, Ignacio heard. He had been ready to stir and disrupt their little chat, but he stayed still and wanted to hear more. It was not as if the ladies would talk this way in front of him at any other time. He wanted to protest that he had suggested marriage – albeit after they had seduced each other, he would have added in his own defence.

"I seduced him," she whispered. He listened harder, as the conversation grew more interesting and the voice grew even softer. "I was never going to see him again. I had made up my mind to leave as soon as possible. I had fallen in love, I must admit with a little embarrassment. At the age of 27, I am too old for such a nonsense." Her voice grew a little more thoughtful. "I am a widow, Marcela. I have no fear of Ignacio. I asked… I requested certain things."

"Certain things?"

"I think you would be aware of such things. You have birthed a child," Gushing Stream responded a little strangely. Ignacio almost smiled. She had been watching him sleep, and had become a little shy with him in the room.

"I am a woman. He is a very attractive man. I…I love him." Ignacio almost sighed with relief. "He loves me. He really loves me," she spoke with such wonder in her tired voice, that Ignacio felt a glow of happiness.

"Like Armand loves me?"

"Exactly. And Ignacio….fulfilled every need."

Ignacio stirred himself, startled from his pretense by the comment. He pretended he had heard nothing of their conversation. The ladies made a tiny sound as if they had been staring at him intensely for a moment, and were suddenly feeling guilty for it. Their conversation was well and truly over. He glanced around slowly, as if just waking up, and saw their blushing faces.

He smiled and stretched, exaggerating his movements slowly. He pulled his long legs in, and rose to his feet.

"How are you, Gushing Stream? I have slept so long that we have missed lunch," Ignacio said, suddenly noticing the time. "I'll have to go and get the broth for you."

"I fed her, Ignacio. I'll send someone for your lunch in a moment. Are you hungry?" Marcela said.

"A bowl of soup would do nicely." He watched her fuss and fidget with her shawl, and tried not to stare at her agitated movements too much. She smiled at both of them and left the room.

Gushing Stream was watching him. Her tired eyes were still very sharp and alert.

"How much of that conversation were you listening to, Ignacio?"

It was his turn to blush, he could feel heat rising on his face. He chuckled a little, and looked away from her.

"Exactly what I was thinking," she murmured.

"You said…those things…for my benefit?" He stopped laughing for a moment and looked her in the eye. "You didn't seduce me, Gushing Stream…I was well and truly doing what I knew I wanted to do. I love you. I just expected you to stop me before I went…that far."

Her smile faded slowly. "Alonso and Enrique called me a red harlot…"

"That is not true."

"I have the makings of one, Ignacio. The reputation is building anyway."

"I asked you something before – but you were sleeping," Ignacio said, ignoring the comments.

"The answer is…" She glanced at him, and continued. "I heard the question, Ignacio."

"You were saying?" Ignacio was trying not to become too impatient, but failing quite badly.

"Are you sure about this? Completely sure? This will change your life completely," she murmured.

"Yes, I love you. I want to be with you every day. I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you," Ignacio said distractedly.

"Very inept courtship skills," she said softly.

"Alright," Ignacio said softly, slightly offended. "I will leave and learn some skills, and return a changed man," he added in all seriousness. Her eyes lit up with laughter.

"Ignacio. I don't want a caballero. I want you," she whispered. "The answer is yes."

He turned around. He had been in the process of acting out his impulsive threat and his hand had reached for the door knob. The look on his face made her laugh some more.

Reaching the bed in a few moments, he resisted the impulse to kiss her passionately. She was still deathly pale, and incredibly fragile. Death was still quite likely, and he had to remember that – but the excitement that flooded his body was powerful.

"Sit down on the bed, just here." She pointed. "What do you say?"

"Tomorrow, today? We could have a bedside wedding," he murmured. "Benitez did Diego's in an unconventional way."

"All this excitement, Ignacio. Take a breath," she whispered with a smile. "Whenever, wherever. All I want is you. All I need is you," she added.

"And cactus tea, and soup…" he said with a serious undertone. "Lots and lots of soup." He took her thin hand, and kissed it gently.