Victoria had locked the communicating door between their rooms. It was the first time she had locked him out.
He hadn't slept alone since their marriage. As retaliation, he left to dress as Zorro and ride out into the night. She hated it, but he hated being shut out. He rode to the edge of town and glanced into the peaceful streets. The sergeant was on duty, and he saluted Mendoza before riding home.
Dismounting in the dark, he knew what must be done. The mask had to go. He owed it to his wife. Zorro lived to serve Victoria.