Part Seventeen: Inez
Inez's hands fell to her sides when she finished straightening Magdalena's veil. Her niece looked truly beautiful. Her hair softly framed her face and her white lace dress flattered her figure to no end. Inez looked down at her own body and sighed. She would never, had never been beautiful like Magdalena. Her marriage had been a practical one.
Roberto hadn't been unkind but he had not made any secret of the fact that he had married her for business, not love. He had never joined her in the marriage bed. Inez had hoped at first that if they had had more time, he would have come around, would have softened, love might have blossomed between them, but in different moments she knew she was only fooling herself.
And it didn't help that in the years since his death she had learned of his keeping a mistress up until the very day of his death. No, he never would have joined her.
Twenty years had passed since his death, and no man had looked at her since. Until Demetrio…It was time to go in! She realized with a jerk and looked back up at her niece.
Magdalena returned the gaze, and there was no pity evident in her face, and Inez felt thankful for that. She hastily stepped over to embrace her. "I love you very much, Magdalena. I truly wish you happiness," she told her, and Magdalena's eyes filled with happy tears.
"Gracias." She looked towards the closed doors leading into the church. "What would my mother say to me right now?"
Adela de la Curiel. What a woman. It was hard for Inez to remember her, for as much as the lady had been good and kind and beautiful, she had also monopolized everything, everyone. No one could measure up to Adela. Maybe Isabella de la Vega, she reconsidered. But Isabella was never obviously the center of attention. Not that Adela was purposely the center of attention...and she was so kind, that day when Roberto...no, I don't want to think about that.
Magdalena waited patiently, and a touch on Inez's shoulder startled her. "Is it hard to remember her?" Magdalena asked, her eyes suddenly becoming serious. Magdalena is wise beyond her age, just like her mother. "Was it hard to be around her, Inez?"
"No, it was quite easy," Inez returned, and once again sank into memory.
A hot summer day, a white hand delicately fanning the woman who held it. Adela was beautiful, even when she was embarazada. "I wish you'd reconsider, Inez," the woman spoke, and dark eyes met Inez's faltering gaze.
"My father insists. There is nothing I can do."
"Is marriage to Don Roberto Herrera really as bad as all that, though? He isn't bad looking."
"No. But when he speaks to me...there is just something in his voice. He detests me."
A low laugh came from her sister-in-law. "But you are being serious!" She exclaimed, and then a frown crossed the beautiful face. "Inez, do you really think so?"
"Si. Never does he meet my gaze gladly."
The frown remained firmly on Adela's face. "And your father won't accept anything else?"
A small sob escaped Inez. "He tells me I am too old to remain at home. He won't support a solterona, he says."
"My father-in-law is not as kind to you as he is to me," Adela observed, eyes snapping. "Inez, you can stay with me. You don't have to marry Roberto. I'll speak to Don Oliverio, tell him that I wish you to stay with me."
"My father won't accept that."
"I'll use this as an excuse," Adela said, placing a hand over her swollen belly. "He can deny me nothing, especially since I am carrying his first grandchild. Besides, your father has been speaking long now about moving to Mexico City. He proposes to leave within the year, doesn't he?"
"Si. But he means to make sure I marry before he goes."
The gate had opened; Roberto had entered, Adela had been forced to leave them, albeit reluctantly. Her father had come out while Roberto proposed. The wind had come up then, blowing away the papers. Inez had jumped up to catch them before they blew away, as had Roberto, and they had collided. Sullen eyes had met hers and Inez's apprehensions had been confirmed.
Inez finally spoke, banishing the memories that followed that scene. "She would wish you happiness and long life and," her voice softened, "many children. I mean that she would wish you to enjoy the task that begets children."
Magdalena blushed slightly, but her smile widened. "That will not be hard." Both women giggled, then Magdalena kissed her aunt's cheek. "I love you also, Inez. Gracias."
Inez was hurried to her seat. Diego was waiting for Magdalena at the front of the church, in a very dark, almost black, suit. He straightened when he saw Magdalena being led up the aisle on her father's arm, and his hand possessively took hers when they reached him. Inez looked across the church and suddenly eyes met hers. Demetrio's eyes. She jerked back to face the front, and suddenly tears threatened to fall. Thankfully, it was a wedding, and tears would not be out of place. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
She had been foolish to think that the Sergeant's interest in her was more than mercenary. Si, he had spent time with, letting her teach him to dance, but as she recalled, those lessons included wine in great quantities. Now it was apparent to her why he had come so eagerly every week for three months. She sighed. His friendship and companionship should have been enough, but it hadn't. Inez knew how foolish and unfair it was to expect more from him. But that first day she had met him, formally, hope had risen in her.
"Dona Inez, this is Sergeant Garcia, Commandante of the pueblo, a gallant soldier, and, for some time, your admirer."
Inez had startled at those words, just as she had startled to find their gazes on her moments before. My admirer? What on earth does Don Diego mean?
"I am delighted to meet you, Senor Commandante." Manners took over. Inez offered him her hand, not registering the look Garcia shot Diego at his words. Garcia kissed the hand proffered him, first smoothing back her glove over it. He has surprisingly good manners, for a solider. He is the Commandante, though. Are they expecting me to say something else?
"That is Don Diego's mozo," Garcia was explaining to Magdalena. "He is deaf and dumb but very loyal."
Awkward silence fell for a moment. Inez spoke the first words that popped into her head. "It must be so hard to be a soldier. All that marching and sleepless nights. How do you stand it?"
"Well, I—"
His words annoyed her and she interrupted him. "You must be a great man to live your life in the service of the King. You must truly live the life of sacrifice," Inez didn't know where these words were coming from. She had never cared for soldiers, what was she hoping to accomplish?
But Garcia's chest was puffing out, and Inez took inane pleasure that her words had caused him to be more confident.
"It is true, Dona Inez, a soldier's life is one of sacrifice." His gaze met hers, and a smile crossed Inez's face. This man was so honest, friendly. Does he actually...admire me?
But then his next words froze her heart. "Your aunt is a very understanding woman, Senorita Montes."
Don Diego had returned, the carriage tipped when Garcia entered, and then came the visit to my orange grove...why do I dwell on this?
Soft anger stopped her reminiscing. Inez once again heard the words being spoken by the couple at the altar.
"I do," was Magdalena's soft voice, and soon Diego also said the words. "I do." They were soon kissing, as husband and wife. And Inez remembered a day not too long ago when Garcia had proven once and for all that Inez was a very foolish woman.
It was the day after those men had been killed. Inez had thought, when she had seen Garcia then, that he had shown more interest in her than usual. Hadn't his gaze lingered? So the next day, she drove into the pueblo to see him. It was a bit daring for her to enter the cuartel by herself, but at her age, who really cared?
Garcia had looked surprised to see her enter. That should have been her first warning. His face had seemed to fall somewhat, and he seemed nervous. Oh, but that hadn't registered when she had actually been there. She had only seen the nervousness of a smitten man. Smitten!
She felt the pain even now, and hated herself for being so fooled by her wishes that she had placed on him false emotions. She couldn't remember exactly what she had said, or what he had said, but she knew what had come next. The thought of Magdalena had jumped into her head and she had tried to make him kiss her, gently. But Garcia had jumped as though he had been shot and immediately started speaking about wine and heat and maladies of the mind. Inez had gotten the point and fled from his office, mortified.
The wedding fiesta was elaborate and beautiful. A delicious meal was served and toasts were made and then there was dancing. Naturally, you dance. All officers dance. She cringed at her old words as they echoed in her mind.
It was almost more than she could bear, watching everyone dancing gaily and having no partner herself and no way to join in. She loved dancing. She turned away quickly. Magdalena and Diego seemed to be stuck together—you couldn't catch sight of one without the other. Inez finally tired of looking upon the young, nimble dancers and turned to creep away.
But as she turned, a hand touched her shoulder. "Will you do me the honor of dancing this dance with me, Dona Inez?" It was Sergeant Garcia. He looked less messy than usual. His cheeks were clean shaven and his smile bright. To her surprise, he didn't smell of wine.
She had hesitated too long she realized, when Garcia added, "please?" to his request.
"I—I suppose, Com—Sergeant." A new song was beginning, one that sent pangs to her stomach. It was the very same that she had first danced to with him. Looking towards the happy couple, she could guess that they realized it and had a premonition they would be leaving the party soon. But when she reached the floor, all thoughts of them vanished. Garcia was dancing, with an ease and grace that astounded her. Every step was perfect and she was surprised to find her breath catching every time their gazes met. Garcia's touch was feather soft, but lingering. The other dancers faded away.
They finished the dance and Garcia took hold of her arm, and they walked off the dance floor, ducking through the crowd until they were at the stables.
"This is not the best place, but it is private," Garcia said nervously. "Dona Herrera…no, Inez. Inez, I know I am but a soldier but these past months I thought—I thought—and then in my office you ran away so quickly I was afraid."
Inez's heartbeat was frantic. Was this really what was happening? What was he going to ask her?
"I was speaking to Don Diego and he said...he said..." Garcia pulled a guitar out of nowhere. Had he planned this?
Demetrio strummed a few chords on the guitar, and Inez's mouth fell open in surprise. He meant to serenade her?
The night wind sighs, awake, my love.
Inez's heart thumped madly. Can this be happening?
My guitar cries, awake, my love.
Tears were stinging her eyes and a smile so bright it was almost painful came to her lips. Demetrio knew how she felt, and he felt the same. Only God knew what the future would bring, and tomorrow things might be just the same again, but Inez knew that she'd enjoy and remember this moment as long as she lived.
The fragrant breeze from the wild orange trees, whispers, awake, awake, my love.
And in an upstairs room the song drifted in, as two lovers met, shyness fading in the wake of their love.
No one should sleep on a night such as this, no one should be without someone to kiss...
A/N: I really wish Inez had been more than just comic relief in Sweet Face of Danger, and in this story I tried my best to give her more of a character. She was always as important to me as Magdalena, and someday I may write something longer for her.
I find myself wishing I had included something of Adela from Francisco's perspective also, but can't think of where I would place it. I suppose it is enough for him to specify that she looked just like her mother in her party dress. (sighs) Mothers are so neglected in Zorro. There are, what, two? If this was from Diego's perspective I would have included more of his mother also, but since it isn't, (shrugs)
One more chapter to go.