CHAPTER FIVE
Victoria watched as Diego's mouth fell open, followed by a tiny flicker of
fear which passed over his face so swiftly, she thought she must have imagined
it.
"You cannot be serious," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest in a
defensive manner.
"I most certainly am," she replied. And she was. The thought Zorro could
be. . .with that. . .that woman. . .had left her tossing and turning for
hours. She needed to know. Besides, it was a brilliant idea. She couldn't
believe she hadn't thought of it before.
"Why would you think I could succeed where many others have tried and failed?"
Diego asked.
"Because you are the smartest person I know," she replied sincerely. "If
you cannot do it, no one can."
"Victoria," he said with a shake of his head. "No, I cannot do as you ask.
It's too risky, for both of us. If the alcalde learned we knew of Zorro's
identity, we would be imprisoned, maybe even tortured. We would most definitely
hang. . ."
"Fine," she retorted. She had forgotten all about de Soto and his obsession
with capturing the masked man. And although she was willing to put her life
on the line for the man she loved, she had no right to force Diego to do
the same. "Fine," she repeated. "Do this for me then. Stay away from Señora
Murillo."
"What?"
"Stay away from Señora Murillo."
He chuckled nervously. "That is going to be rather difficult since my father
invited her to stay at the hacienda. What would you have me do? Move out
until she and her mother find somewhere else to live?"
"If that is what is takes." Victoria picked up her knife again and calmly
started slicing a tomato.
"I thought you weren't jealous."
"I'm not," she said, pretending to concentrate on her work. But even as the
words left her mouth, she knew she was lying. She was jealous. The
thought of that harpy getting her claws into Diego made her sick to her stomach.
"You are a dear friend and I don't want to see you get hurt." Another lie.
He was more than a friend and she did love him, just not in the same way
she loved Zorro. He didn't make her heart pound or her knees go weak. But
he was someone she could always count on, no matter what she needed or what
kind of trouble she was in.
"Just a dear friend, eh?" Diego asked, breaking into her thoughts. .
"Yes, a dear friend," she replied. "Probably the best friend I have. Which
is why I think you should keep away from that woman. I have a feeling she's
not what she seems."
"I'm a grown man who can make his own decisions," he added with what sounded
like an edge of sarcasm to his tone. He took a couple of steps toward her.
"I am quite capable of not allowing my lust to control my reasoning."
Oh my. Victoria had to put down her knife again. The idea of Diego
having lustful thoughts made her belly flip again, but in a different way.
"What? You're surprised I have. . .needs just like any other man?" He sounded
bitter now as he drew up beside her. "What did you think? That I was a eunuch?"
No, she never thought that, but she had never thought of him and. . .that.
And then she couldn't think of anything at all as Diego lowered his lips
to hers and kissed her. And it was not a tender or gentle kiss either. He
circled his arms around her and pulled her tight up against his body as he
ran his tongue along the seam of her lips.
Desire swept through her as she opened to him and let him plunder her mouth.
Then, almost as abruptly as it had started, Diego pushed himself away.
"Forgive me," he said, ducking his head to avoid her dazed stare. "That was.
. .unforgivable."
He spun around and strode out of the kitchen before Victoria could point
out his conflicting statements. Not that she was capable of forming a coherent
thought, let alone a complete sentence. She stood rooted to the spot, trying
to ignore her trembling legs and wildly beating heart.
Then she realized Diego had left before he promised to stay away from that.
. .that. . .perra. Any lingering feelings of desire were wiped away
as anger surged through her. Once again, Victoria picked up her knife and
began hacking the tomato into tiny pieces..
Z Z Z
He couldn't believe he had kissed Victoria.
"Checkmate. Again."
Diego snapped out of his reverie at the sound of his father's voice and glanced
up to see Felipe grinning triumphantly. But beneath the smile, he could see
the lad was growing tired.
"Well, I'm for bed," yawned the elder de la Vega. He looked expectantly at
Felipe then Diego.
"I demand another rematch," declared Diego. "He is only ahead by two games."
Don Alejandro chuckled. "You may as well give up now, son. You will never
catch up. He's too good." Felipe sat up proudly at the praise from the older
man. "Buenas noches."
"Good night, father," Diego replied. He watched without really seeing as
Felipe began resetting the chess pieces.
He couldn't believe he had kissed Victoria.
It wasn't like he had never kissed her before, he had - many times - as Zorro.
But never as Don Diego. What if she noticed similarities? He didn't even
want to think about that. The thought she might compare his kiss with Zorro's
had distracted him from the blatant flirting Violetta had flung his way from
the moment he had returned to the hacienda just before supper.
A tapping sound penetrated his musings and he looked up to see Felipe's impatient
expression. "Oh, sorry," he said as he picked up a random pawn and moved
it forward, glad the lovely widow had retired nearly an hour earlier. He
wanted to make sure she was truly asleep before he even ventured anywhere
close to his own bedroom. She had begun to pout due to his lack of interest
and that worried him. Who knew what scheme she would devise if he kept thwarting
her?
He had also been dismayed his father had paid marked attention to Señora
Gomez, who appeared to be returning the elder de la Vega's regard. Although
he could hardly begrudge his father female companionship if he wanted it.
But still, she was Violetta's mother and since he did not trust the daughter,
it would probably be wise to be cautious of the mother as well.
He absently moved another pawn, his mind drifting back to his confrontation
with Victoria and the ridiculous demand she had made. Help her deduce Zorro's
identity indeed. At least he had been able to talk her out of that and. .
.
He had kissed her. And it had been glorious. And he was ten times
a fool for doing so.
This time it was a heavy sigh which captured his attention. Felipe was glaring
at him now. Diego glanced at the board and saw he was in check, with only
two possible moves, one of which would put him at checkmate.
"Felipe, if you win," he began, "you can go to bed. If I win. . ." He cleared
his throat, ignoring the youth's rather sarcastically raised eyebrow. "Then
you have to play one more game."
The young man nodded his agreement. Diego stared at the chessmen for a few
moments weighing his options then chose his move.
And, of course, it was the wrong one.
Z Z Z
The next evening, Diego stared at the mirror on his bedroom wall as he attempted
to knot his black silk tie into a decent bow. Confound his father anyway.
He could think of nothing he would like to do less than spend the next several
hours with a smile plastered to his face as he made polite and inane conversation
at a dinner party with three people he would rather avoid at the moment.
But there was no way he could weasel out of it. Glancing at the looking glass,
he saw he had once again mangled his tie. Sighing, he loosened it again and
started over. As he was looping it around his shirt collar, Diego could hear
the front door opening, announcing the arrival of de Soto and Victoria. His
father was cheerfully greeting the newcomers, offering them a glass of sherry.
He could hear Violetta's trilling laugh, which sent shivers down his spine,
both of annoyance and yearning. He felt the beautiful widow was just waiting
for him to slip up, ready to pounce on him like a cat on a mouse, aching
to dig in her claws.
His ploy to keep her at bay had worked last evening, but he doubted it would
work again. Plus Felipe was a growing boy and needed his rest. After he had
sent the lad to bed the previous night, he had pretended to read before falling
asleep on the library settee. His neck still felt a bit sore.
Tilting his head from side to side, he then put the finishing touches on
his bedraggled tie. It would have to do, he thought, positive his father
was getting exasperated by his tardiness. As he left his room and walked
down the darkened hall way, he mused this must be what a condemned man feels
on his way to the gallows.
Moments later, he stepped in the parlor where the elder de la Vega and their
guests had gathered. "Ah, Diego, there you are," Don Alejandro announced,
a hint of irritation in his voice. The others in the room all turned to face
him as he stood in the doorway.
All at once, he was blindsided by the resemblance between Victoria and Violetta.
Their eyes were both a deep chocolate brown, their hair as black as a raven's
wing. Even their faces were similarly shaped, although Victoria's was a bit
more heart-shaped. Madre de Dios, was this the reason why he felt
such a strong attraction to his friend's widow? Because she reminded him
of the woman standing before him, the woman he love? The woman, who for the
moment, was unattainable?
"Sherry?" His father's inquiry broke through his speculations. Diego shook
his head. He was saved the task of asking for water then explaining his choice
by the discreet arrival of Maria, the de la Vega housekeeper.
"Dinner is served," the elder de la Vega stated. He offered his arm to Señora
Gomez, which she accepted with a gracious smile.
Diego glanced at the two younger women, then at de Soto. With a hint of deviltry
in his eyes, the commandante bowed in front of Victoria. "Señorita
Escalante?" Victoria placed her hand on his proffered arm, narrowing her
eyes at Diego. "Of course, Señor Alcalde," she said cordially.
Violetta gazed expectantly at Diego. Mentally cursing his luck, or rather
his lack thereof, he pasted a polite expression on his face. "Shall we?"
he asked, even though they were the last couple in the room.
Everyone else was already seated when Diego escorted Violetta into the dining
room. He was surprised to see Felipe standing next to the housekeeper. What
did the young man think he was doing? Diego wondered as he helped Violetta
into her seat. They had never allowed him to serve at table whenever they
had guests. Who had decided differently and why hadn't he been consulted?
As he vowed to find out, the first course, a spicy tomato soup was brought
out. It was followed by roast pheasant and potatoes. Everyone, Diego noted,
was chatting amicably so far, no doubt because of the excellent fare and
the glasses of wine Felipe kept refilling.
There was a lull for a moment or two, which Don Alejandro ended by turning
to de Soto. "And how did you find the pheasant, Alcalde?"
"Well, I moved my potatoes, and there it was," said the commandante as he
raised his fork.
Victoria let out a burst of laughter she cut off by placing her napkin on
her mouth. Diego's eyes darted to Felipe, whose face was covered in a huge
grin and turning red from suppressing his own merriment. The elder de la
Vega looked somewhat confused, yet smiled as Señora Gomez said something
to him Diego couldn't catch.
"It really is a delicious meal, Don Alejandro," Violetta said airily as if
nothing had happened. "As fine as anything I have been served in Spain."
"Ah, yes, Spain," said the alcalde, lifting his wine glass. "It must seem
like paradise compared to this dry, dusty land, Señora."
"Oh, Los Angeles has some fine qualities," she replied, her dark eyes sliding
coquettishly in Diego's direction. "I must confess, I do miss Madrid now
and then. It's been nearly a year since we left."
"And what was your reason for leaving?" de Soto asked, then realizing he
sounded impolite, added, "if you don't mind me asking."
"It was a last request of my husband."
"Antonio, yes. I wish I remembered more about him," the commandante said.
"There was the age difference, of course, as an upperclassman, the freshman
seemed so immature, one rarely spent time with them. Present company excluded,
of course, Diego."
Diego nodded in acknowledgment of the backhanded compliment. "Some of us
were there to learn, to expand our minds. Not all of us were frivolous fellows."
"Of course not," agreed de Soto. "That is what I remember the most about
you when we spent time together rehearsing of the Passion Play we put on
that year. Always had your nose in book when you weren't on stage.
"He was Jesus, you know," the alcalde confided in Violetta. "Please, forgive
me, Señora, but I cannot recall if your husband was also in the production."
"Oh, he only had a small part," she said with a wry smile. "He was one of
the Roman soldiers. But he was happy because he got to carry a sword as part
of his costume." She motioned for Felipe to refill her glass. "He wasn't
much of an actor, he would always say, but it did let him indulge in his
love of swordplay."
"Swordplay? He was proficient in the sport?"
"Oh, si," Violetta said. "Sometimes I think he loved it more than
me." She sighed wistfully.
Her mother shook her head. "Violetta, what a terrible thing to say."
"But it's true, Mama," said her daughter. She cocked her head to gaze at
de Soto as Felipe approached to fill her glass. "Señor Alcalde, did
you also study the saber under Sir Edmund Kendall like Antonio and. . . Oh!"
She jumped from her chair, the front of her lavender gown now sporting a
dark red stain. The men all rose to their feet as well. "You imbecile!" she
yelled at Felipe, who was holding a now half empty carafe. "Look what you've
done to my best gown. It's ruined."
Violetta then raised her hand, as if she intended to slap the youth. Diego
grabbed his napkin and thrust it at her. "I'm sure Maria will be able to
get that stain out. She's a miracle work. . ."
"No, it's ruined," Violetta said petulantly, dabbing half-heartedly with
the cloth. "You should have that clumsy boy dismissed immediately."
Diego glanced at Felipe, who was keeping his eyes downcast, but he saw the
impudent grin on the lad's face. It was when he was thus distracted Victoria
stood and walked up to the sulking Violetta.
"Felipe is a good boy," she hissed through clenched teeth. "You are the one
who is a clumsy cow."