Happy Sunday, All!

Let's continue, shall we?

Enjoy!

Linny

Chapter Eleven

The ride back to the pueblo was far too short for Diego's liking. It seemed that once it was time to part ways with the señorita's company, there was almost a heaviness in his chest. It had only been a matter of days and she had taken her place inside of his heart.

He wasn't falling in love with Olivia, of course. But, their attraction to one another was becoming noticeable. What it might amount to, he didn't know. Especially with a plot to kill her now on his plate. And then there was also whatever connection she had to the Lieutenant. In what way had their paths crossed so harshly that he would want to end her life?

But, despite everything, Diego was willing to take a chance to see where things might go between them. He hadn't truly allowed himself to open his heart to anyone for a long time. Even if it progressed to being nothing more than a simple attraction, he knew he was ready to try.

"Have you considered my invitation to attend the Comandante's welcome party? I do not doubt that Don Tomas will be singing your praises to my father and his friends. It would be a shame if you were to miss it."

She chuckled softly as he guided the carriage up to the front of the inn. "I have been considering it, yes," was her simple and evasive response.

"And I suppose you're going to just keep me in suspense?" He pulled the brake on the surrey and set down the reigns on the bench seat between them.

"I still need more time to think," she admitted.

"What's to think about? It's a party. Everyone loves parties."

"That may be so, but I am not here to socialize."

"Still, what a better way to quickly finish your task than by attending a party with almost all of the landowners in Los Angeles?"

"Diego," she chastised with an annoyed glare in his direction, yet she still smiled. It was soft and very pretty.

"Very well," he conceded. "But, please, do not wait too long to decide. The party is tomorrow night."

"I remember. I will give you my response after we visit Don Tomas tomorrow. I promise."

Was she just being coy on purpose or was she deliberately leading him on? It annoyed him that he couldn't tell the difference. "Alright. I suppose I can accept that. Here, let me walk with you." He quickly climbed down from his seat and circled around to help her down. They walked in a comfortable silence until they stood just outside of the posada.

"Thank you, Diego."

He took hold of her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. "It was my pleasure, Olivia." Her skin had been soft and warm on his lips. "Buenas tardes."

"Good afternoon." She smiled brilliantly before turning to go inside. She was quickly followed by her silent maid who curtsied to Diego before disappearing inside as well.

What was it about her that drew him in? Was it merely the novelty of her being a stranger to his country? Or was it something else?

Yes, her appearance was alluring and her demeanor was quite friendly. But, those were only superficial things. No, there was something else about her that drew his attention.

There were quite a few similarities between them. Both were from wealthy, well-bred families. Well-educated. Raised around livestock. And while Diego was still lucky enough to have his father in his life, he knew the pain of losing a parent.

She had been unfortunate to not only lose both but to lose them both at the same time. At least she'd had her aunt—despite pushing her desires onto her niece—and her two older brothers, which she spoke of with the highest amount of admiration. Still, a loss like that leaves a mark like no other on a person's heart.

Turning back to the carriage, he noticed Bernardo's familiar smirk and raised an eyebrow of teasing. "Not a word out of you," he mumbled as he strolled around to the other side of the surrey and climbed aboard.

The mute climbed up beside him, miming that he could neither hear nor speak. He then smiled widely at his own joke.

"Ever the comedian today, aren't we?" Diego released the brake and took hold of the reigns.

Bernardo batted his eyelashes, his hands folded together over his heart, and let out a wistful sigh. Then, he pointed to Diego.

Noticing a decently-sized rock on Bernardo's side of the carriage, Diego urged the guide horse to move in that direction. He was pleased when it jostled the servant about, almost knocking off his sombrero. "That's enough out of you."

The mute's silent laughter irritated him even more.

"She intrigues me, Bernardo. More than any woman I have ever met before."

The mozo's eyebrows shot up incredulously, revealing his silent question: "Any?"

Diego knew the one senorita he was referring to. Ana Maria Verdugo. She was a beauty unlike Diego had ever known, but she wasn't as much of an enigma. No, what Ana Maria put forth was what she had on the inside as well. And she had been in love with Zorro. Not Diego. Even if he had revealed his secret to her, a part of him would always wonder if she would have cared for him because of who he truly was. Or if it would only be because he was the one behind the mask.

No. It had been for the best to let things end the way they had, Even if he missed being with her every single day.

Olivia Walker was different. She could say so much and still not say anything at the same time. Her layers were carefully and slowly being pulled away piece-by-piece, yet he felt like he would never know the real her.

He hoped that one day, she would feel comfortable around him to reveal her true heart.

"Did you see the way she was able to determine that the girl's horse had been poisoned? And you should have seen the way she examined the plant it had eaten and realized what it was. She was amazing, Bernardo."

It still stunned Diego a great deal how she had been able to take charge like that and remain calm the entire time. And even being able to keep the girl calm at the same time as trying to figure out what to do.

"She knows a great deal about horses." He said it as if the thought had just struck him and perhaps it had. Slowly, throughout the day, she had been showing him that and now, finally, the puzzle had been completed.

Bernardo pointed to him as if saying: "So do you."

"No, Bernardo. I don't think I would have been able to diagnose Rosita's ailment. Not in enough time." Diego frowned, now.

Bernardo shrugged and spread his hands wide asking: "What is the problem, then?"

"There is still a great deal that puzzles me. I feel that there is more to her story than she is telling. For instance, why did her aunt take her away from her brothers? And why have a deaf servant?" Bernardo shook his head, telling his master that he didn't have answers to any of his questions. "Perhaps she also lives a double life as a bandida," Diego teased as they continued on the road.

Bernardo laughed at that before pausing and weighing his master's joke.

Diego instantly knew what was on his mozo's mind. She certainly wouldn't be the first woman to lead a double life. Señorita Magdalena Montes had been a member of the Eagle's brood while living the life of a Don's daughter.

"Come now, Bernardo," he said, quickly shutting down his servant's mode of thinking. "Is every stranger a bad person in your eyes?" Diego chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders, telling his servant that the conversation was over. Yet, he had to admit that Bernardo had a point. Diego didn't really know her and it was foolish to trust her so openly.

She was very secretive and—while she was usually warm and friendly—a bit standoffish. Diego could understand why, given her past, yet there was still something in the back of his mind that wouldn't ease. But, there could be a way to make that happen.

"Let's go. I want to make a stop at the mission to see if Padre Felipe has a book I'm interested in."

Padre Felipe sat at his desk, reading over the scripture he was preparing for Sunday's service. With the arrival of Captain Estevez, the people would be expecting a joyous message and that was what he was looking to deliver. He smiled to himself as he ended it with a prayer that would send the church's children off into the world with a feeling of peace.

There was a knock at the door with his pen's last flourish. "Enter!" he called out as he set the final page aside to allow the ink to dry.

One of the Indians who worked at the mission—Domingo—pushed open the door and stepped inside. "Don Diego and his servant are here to see you, Padre."

"Excellent. Show them in, Domingo."

"Sí, Padre." He disappeared momentarily and then quickly reappeared with Diego and Bernardo in tow.

"Buenas tardes, Padre," Diego's smiling face entered the room, followed by the round face of his smiling deaf-mute. Diego was a man, now, but when he smiled, the Padre could still see hints of the boy he once was.

"Buenas tardes, Diego. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Come to challenge me in a game of chess, perhaps?"

"Not today, I'm afraid," Diego responded, much to the chagrin of the monk. "The mission carries one of the best libraries in all of California and I was wondering if it held a book containing a certain subject."

"One of the greatest treasures in life is reading, Diego. Whatever it is you are looking for, it is unlikely that we do not have it. What subject do you wish to learn about?"

Diego shifted his gaze toward Bernardo, who glanced back at his master in confusion. He almost wished his manservant wasn't present to witness what he was about to ask at the risk of being ridiculed even more, but the man was never very far away from his side. It was just his luck. "Sign language," he reluctantly spat out.

The Padre was looking at Diego, so he hadn't noticed the mozo's eyes go wide in surprise. It was gone when the monk's gaze swiveled to the servant, curious.

"You see, Padre," Diego hurried to explain, "at times, I find it... difficult to understand and communicate with Bernardo. I was hoping that there was something in your library that might assist me. I understand that certain aspects of sign language have been written down. I believe it would help us a great deal to learn more about it."

"And, perhaps, impress a certain young señorita as well, my son?"

Diego frowned in confusion at the question. First, Bernardo. Now, Padre Felipe. If she had been of Spanish blood, Diego was certain that his father would have plans for them to be married by the end of the week. And the Padre would be the one to conduct the ceremony. "How?" How had he heard about Olivia when he spent most of his time at the mission?

"The Comandante stopped by the day after his arrival and she came up in conversation. I found it quite interesting that she had a deaf servant as well.

"So, you haven't met the señorita, then?"

"No. I, unfortunately, haven't had the privilege, yet. Though from what have I heard, you have been her constant companion." The monk smiled cheekily at the younger man he had known for so many years.

"Not constant," Diego countered, slightly petulant. "I have been trying to introduce her to a few of the Dons. That is all."

The look the padre shot his way told Diego that the monk didn't believe him for a second. "Of course, Diego." Padre Felipe patted Diego on the hand as if he were a child being told just what he wanted to hear. "Just know that the heart knows what it wants far before the mind does."

The young Don rolled his eyes at his old friend. He had only known the woman a few days! They were barely acquaintances. And she was on the verge of being killed. All he wanted to do was keep a precautionary eye on her, while everyone else in his life seemed to think he had other intentions. "I will keep that in mind."

"Good. Now, take a seat and give me a few moments while I look to see what we may have. Please, enjoy a bit of refreshment while you wait." He motioned to a decanter and collection of glasses that rested on a small table beside the large bookcase on the wall to the left of his desk.

"Gracias," Diego replied as he watched the robed man exit the room, closing the door behind him.

Bernardo instantly rounded on his master, but Diego ignored him for the moment as he walked over to the decanter and poured himself a glass. Taking a drink to fortify himself against the silent onslaught that was about to ensue, Diego turned.

But, it didn't come in the way he'd expected. He was waiting to see a flurry of hand movements that he could barely understand but was instead met with a man who had his arms crossed over his chest and was just standing there, just waiting for an explanation.

"It has nothing to do with what we were speaking of before," he informed his mozo, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard. "This is something I have been thinking about since her arrival. I do not like not knowing what is going on around me. How do we know she isn't part of this plot to kill the Comandante? Or even worse? I never said that I completely trusted her." It was as if Diego was saying the words more to convince himself more than his manservant.

The question was clear on Bernardo's face. "But do you want to?"

And there was only one answer to that question that Diego could think of. Did he want to trust her? Yes, unfortunately. Yes, he wanted to trust her. That was why he had to do this.

Three days. It had been three days since that fool Gilberto had failed to dispose of that foolish Captain. Time was ticking by too fast. They had to get rid of Estevez before he caught on to his true identity.

If that baboso had only succeeded, Lieutenant Allende would not be so pressed for time. The Capitán would need to be dealt with. Along with Gilberto.

He had a plan, but he would have to wait one more day for it to be executed. Tomorrow night, the garrison would only contain the soldiers who were on duty while all of the others would be attending the fiesta at the de la Vega hacienda. Only a dozen or so men would remain; just enough to put his plan into motion.

Watching from his post near their Capitán's office, he saw Corporal Reyes exiting the kitchens with a tray laden with bowls. The clumsy oaf almost dropped one as he walked down the stairs and began to cross the yard toward the cells.

As he watched, the inept soldier dished out the bowls filled with rice and beans to the prisoners; one was a pickpocket, another was a drunkard that needed to sober up. The last one was Gilberto.

With a grin, the Lieutenant had an idea. "Corporal!" he called out before the buffoon would hand out the last bowl.

"Sí, Lieutenant?"

Allende crossed the yard and waved the soldier away. "Take that away. We do not feed traitorous scum such as this."

"But, the Capitán-"

"Do you question my order, Corporal?"

"No, but the Comandante-" Reyes urged to continue.

"If you continue to insist on disobeying my orders, I will have you broken down to private. Am I understood?"

Resigning with a sigh, Corporal Reyes capitulated. "Sí, Lieutenant," he lamented as he turned on his heels and marched back to the kitchens.

"Baboso," Allende muttered under his breath as he glanced around the cuartel. There were a few lancers on guard this afternoon while the others had been sent out on patrol. Two stood on the outside of the opened gates, one was in the guardhouse and there were at least a half a dozen scattered throughout the yard. "Well, prisoner, is your stomach empty enough to make you talk?" He asked the question loud enough for the other men to hear.

The glare that Gilberto shot him was reassuring. Allende watched as the man stood up from the small cot and approached the bars. Gilberto then spit at the Lieutenant's feet. "Cerdo!"

"Insolente!" Allende crowed and reached through the bars, grasping at the filthy shirt the would-be assassin wore and pulling him closer. "Tomorrow night, my friend, you shall be free of this cage." He spoke in hushed tones now so that they would not be overheard.

"What is your plan?" He could tell that Gilberto didn't trust him. Good. He shouldn't.

"Do not worry about it. Everything will be made clear when the time is right."

"What do you intend to do about the Comandante?"

"Never you worry about that. As I said, I have a plan." Standing up straighter, he now spoke louder. "You will get nothing until you talk, dog." Pushing hard, he knocked Gilberto off of his feet, laughing as he walked away.

As he crossed back over the yard, he glanced out into the pueblo, his eye settling upon a woman with long, flowing golden hair. The servant of Señorita Walker. She passed by the gates, carrying a basket containing things she had purchased from the market. He followed her with his gaze as she nodded her greetings to a few passersby before stopping at a stall that had a bit of woman's finery on display. She picked up a white lace shawl, admiring the finely detailed pattern.

There was something strange about that one, that was for certain. It could not be a mere coincidence that she and her mistress would arrive in Los Angeles mere hours before he had. All the more reason to be rid of the two of them, he mused as he reached up to touch the scar under his right eye.

She didn't purchase the shawl but folded it up neatly before placing it back on the table and making her way to another stall.

She must have sensed him watching her because she looked up in his direction. She gave no indication of recognizing him but did flinch slightly at the sight of his marred flesh. He grinned at the sight. The feeling of intimidation his injury caused others gave him a sense of power that he enjoyed.

She then bowed her head in greeting, a kind smile gracing her lips. He returned the action but continued to follow her with his good eye as she continued her shopping.

He would have to speak to Borromeo again to find out what was taking so long. He wanted this servant and her thorn-in-his-side of a mistress out of the picture. And he wanted them gone immediately.