Chapter 32

Before leaving for the pueblo, Diego made the most of having a few minutes of free time to go down to the secret cave and take care of Tornado. Felipe was still busy keeping company to their guest, and for nothing in the world would Diego have wanted to trade places with him: rather sweeping the entire cave and cleaning up Tornado's stall than bringing water to the mill of his father's matrimonial designs!

When the time came to go back upstairs and enter the hacienda through the library's secret passage, he heard a voice coming from the other side of the fireplace's secret panel. A woman's voice.

He suppressed an annoyed sigh: damn! as if it wasn't enough that his father was trying hard to set him up with her, now she was preventing him from going to and fro as he pleased between the cave and the hacienda, between his two lives. From juggling both of his identities, both parts of his being.

But then, Diego admitted, he had himself asked Felipe to show her around the house, and he had even insisted on the library, so...

Well, this time, he could mainly blame himself...

He looked through the spyhole, and sure enough Señorita Alacen was there, engaged in conversation with Felipe; or at least she was trying to have a conversation with him, a task made difficult by the trouble she was having understanding his signs.

Felipe was standing sideways to the fireplace, so Diego could see, according to his gestures, that he was thanking the señorita. But what for, precisely? This, Diego couldn't know, Felipe didn't specify it.

Luz, as for her, didn't understand.

"Excuse me," she was telling him, "I don't understand what you mean..."

Felipe repeated, but she didn't get it any better. She let out a frustrated sigh.

"If only you knew how stupid I feel for not understanding anything of what you're telling me!"

Felipe shook his head, which she understood, and pointing a finger at her head he added that she was not stupid, a gesture which meaning was totally lost on her.

Then, suddenly pointing his index finger vertically between them, Felipe seemed to have an idea and signalled her to wait a minute. He then walked to a corner of the library where Diego knew was a writing desk and came back with a pen, an inkwell and a sheet of paper he put on a table nearby.

"Excellent idea," Luz exclaimed.

He hastily scribbled a few words on the paper he then handed her.

"Oh, don't mention it," she replied once she read it. At dinner last night I gathered that you'd rather pass over this part of the story in silence.

Then immediately, Diego saw her hastily put her hand to her mouth, her palm to her lips, looking horrified.

"Oh Dios, I'm so sorry!" she cried out. "I didn't mean to say 'silence', I meant... well... you know... I meant 'keep quiet abou–'... Oh, my God, no!"

Beet-red with embarrassment, she stopped short and hid her face in her hands, realising that this wording was hardly more appropriate than the previous one.

Felipe tried to get her attention by putting his hand on her arm. She lowered her hands slowly and looked at him hesitantly.

Now he had his back to the library once again and made a sign that Diego didn't see and Luz didn't get.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," she said. "I'm really sorry, I've been clumsy, I didn't mean to mock or hurt you, I swear!"

Diego saw Felipe shrug and then scribble something else on the paper.

"Thank you," she said with a slightly guilty smile after she read it.

An awkward silence fell over them. Then she forced herself to break it and told him:

"Listen–"

Again she paused, open-mouthed, her eyes bulging.

"Oh God gracious, no! Not again!" she exclaimed, hiding her face once again. "I swear I'm not doing it on purpose," she then added. "It's only that... well, these expressions are so ingrained in everyday language that–"

She stopped short, looking at Felipe's reaction with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

All what Diego could see of it was that his shoulders were shaking with slight jerks. My God, he thought, had the señorita's blundering language and insensitivity made him cry?

Luz, for her part, was staring at him, gaping. And then, frowning, she spoke again:

"Tell me, young man... are you... Would you by any chance be laughing at me?"

Diego saw Felipe raise his hand a little above his shoulder and spread his thumb and index finger half an inch apart: 'a little', was he answering her.

This sign, the señorita understood it very well and made a show of acting offended. With a falsely disapproving look on her face that couldn't completely hide her amusement, she said:

"Fair enough, I suppose. But Don Felipe, it's hardly charitable of you to make fun of me in this conversation where I am so clearly at a disadvantage."

Felipe took the pen and added something on the paper before handing it to her again.

"Well, yes," she replied by way of explanation, "you understand everything I say, while I am as helpless in front of your language as a three-years-old before a piece of writing!"

Another awkward silence.

"Anyway," she went on. "All right, I'm willing not to say anything to anyone about it, not even to your father or your grandfather, but on the condition that you promise me not to do anything like that ever again."

But what on earth is she talking about? Diego wondered. Felipe, as for him, seemed to know it perfectly and nodded in agreement.

"Good," she said. "After all, no one needs to know... Besides, if only out of consideration for your father and grandfather who were so helpful and generous to the complete stranger I am to them, it would probably be better not to let word get out–"

She paused, wincing again at her poor choice of words.

"And for now, what is done is done," she added. "Let's keep this to ourselves, and let's put it behind us."

Again he nodded and lowered his head a bit, visibly embarrassed.

"Good," she said briskly, "now with your permission, it's time I took my leave, I don't want to make your father wait..."

And leaning on her cane for support, she was about to leave the library when Felipe grabbed her right arm to hold her back. She turned quickly to him and looked at the young man's hand encircling her elbow; Felipe let go of her immediately, as if he had just burned his hand. He was standing sideways to the fireplace again and Diego could see him ask the señorita if she forgave him.

And again, she didn't understand. Felipe grabbed the paper again, probably wrote down his question on it, and with a huge question mark painted all over his face he showed it to her. After she read it Luz looked away, lowered her eyes, and then she jabbered:

"I... I don't know... likely... probably... It's a bit early..."

Felipe's face fell.

"For now I can just promise you that I won't say a word about it as long as I'm not asked anything specific... But don't ask me to deliberately lie! I can't stand downright lies. Let's say that in this case it's just... an omission? Now I have to go, your father must be waiting for me."

And she left the room.

Diego, still standing on the other side of the wall, wondered what Felipe had hidden from him that the señorita was aware of. Something Felipe thought he had to seek forgiveness for.

And most importantly: why didn't Felipe tell him anything about it, whatever this it was?

Not wanting Felipe to know he had witnessed this strange and puzzling scene, Diego waited a whole minute before emerging from the secret passage to catch up with their guest and take her to the pueblo.

Suddenly he was glad to be able to spend some time alone with her: perhaps, despite the rather ambiguous promise she had just made to Felipe, he'd manage to worm it out of her?