CHAPTER NINE

It all became clear to him. Domingo, Violetta, the letters. It was blackmail. Give in to Maldonado's demands or both of his secrets would be exposed to the world. Well, not if he could help it. There had to be another way out of this quagmire.

A hand placed on his arm made him aware of his surroundings once again and to the fact he and his rival were still staring speechlessly at each other. He glanced down to see the befuddlement in Victoria's eyes.

"I have to go," he murmured. She nodded numbly. Looking up again, he saw Domingo's upper lip curl.

"Leaving so soon, er, Zorro? Isn't that what you call yourself?" the other man drawled, pointedly ogling the hilt of the sword strapped to the masked man's hip. "And here I was hoping we could have a cozy chat. I admit to being an avid follower of you and your exploits."

"I think you know where to find me, Señor," snapped Zorro. He needed to leave, before this conversation went any further. "Buenas noches." He pivoted on his heel, his cape swirling in his wake as he slipped out the way he had entered.

Victoria, her mind awhirl, watched him depart before turning to her guest. "What was. . .?"

"Another blanket, por favor," he said as if he hadn't interrupted himself when he had stumbled into her kitchen, catching her in a scandalous embrace with a known outlaw.

"Oh, of course," she replied. "I'll bring it right up." Smoothing her hands on her apron, she wondered if she should bring up what had just occurred. But before she could decide, he smiled at her, his handsome face alight with pleasure.

"Gracias, Señorita," he said before he started backing through the curtains. "I would greatly appreciate that." Then, right before he disappeared, he winked.

What was that all about? The whole episode seemed like a crazy dream. She had seen the guilt in Zorro's eyes before he had kissed her. She had seen the way the two men had glared at each other as though they knew and detested each other. And why did her guest, what was his name. . .Maldonado. . .seem so delighted by it all?

Victoria sighed, knowing she might never learn the answers to her questions. With a shake of her head, she wearily began to wash the day's accumulation of dirty plates and glasses.

Z Z Z

Diego was on edge. Every noise had him jumping out of his skin. He hadn't gone straight back to the hacienda from the tavern after the disastrous visit, instead spending hours riding until both he and Toronado were too tired to go on. It was almost dawn before he approached his room with an apprehension which had been replaced with relief when he saw his bed was empty.

And fortuitously, his father had escorted both widows on a visit to their nearest neighbor, Señora Valverdes right after they had breakfasted that morning. So when Diego finally entered the dining room, it was deserted. He felt like a coward, but he didn't think he could face Violetta until he knew the extent of her involvement in Maldonado's scheme. And he was afraid even if he found out it had been entirely her idea, he would still succumb to her charms. And it excited him as much as it sickened him.

A knock on the front door caused him to spill his coffee onto the tablecloth. Diego watched remotely as the brown liquid spread across the white linen as a servant answered the summons. He didn't even try to hear the exchange of words. The time of reckoning had arrived. Shoving himself upward, he walked out of the room, almost colliding with Maria.

"You have a caller, Patrón," she announced as he strode past her.

"I know. Thank you."

Diego came to a halt in the foyer. Domingo, standing at the entrance to the library, turned and smirked triumphantly.

"Buenos dias, Diego," he said cheerfully. "You were right, I did know where to find you."

"Outside. Now."

"But your hacienda is so charming. A bit quaint, yet charming all the same," said Maldonado. "I had always imagined you living in a mud hovel here in the wilds of California."

"Yes, I know what you thought, you reminded me of it often enough," replied Diego, clenching his jaw and fists. "Your descriptions of the inferiority of the colonies and the barbarians who settled them were always so eloquent."

"Still touchy about that, eh, de la Vega?" The other man stepped closer. "It's gratifying to know I can still get under your skin. And speaking of skin, or should that be sin. . .?"

"Outside." Diego strode over to the door, wrenching it open, in a gesture he hoped would brook no argument from his rival.

"If you insist." Maldonado walked through the portal and down the front steps with Diego on his heels. Diego lead the other man to a small courtyard which was seldom used. The one where he and Sir Edmund had engaged in swordplay before the saber master had been hunted down and killed. Once there, he indicated a small bench for Domingo to sit upon.

"I knew it was you from the moment I heard that a masked man was running around Los Angeles, brandishing a magnificent saber," Maldonado said as he remained standing. "Who else could be so naïve and so self-righteous, I asked myself."

"I am bringing justice to the people who have no other defender," retorted Diego. "I'm saving them from oppression and misery and poverty. I am. . ."

"You always were an idealist fool," the other man sneered. "And now you're an outlaw with a price on your head. Which, oddly enough, is the price of my silence about your little masquerade."

"Six thousand pesos, that's all you want?" Diego acted as though such a sum was trifling amount, when it was almost equal to the amount his father had in the accounts he held in several different banks. And it was his father's money, not his. His own wealth was considerably less.

"No. There is also the matter of you sleeping with the lovely Violetta."

So, there it was. The proof she was complicit in this nefarious scheme against him. How else would Maldonado know of their relationship? Only three people knew, and never, in a million years, no matter how upset he was by it, did Diego see Felipe betraying him to a blackmailer. It had to be her.

"And how much will your silence cost on that matter?"

"I was thinking four thousand pesos. Ten thousand pesos seems like such a nice tidy sum." The other man grinned, no doubt assured he had Diego between Scylla and Charybdis.

"Yes, it does," Diego agreed insincerely. "A pity I have no intention of paying you a centavo of it."

"You would let me expose you to the world?" Maldonado sounded incredulous. "Diego de la Vega, the masked hero of Los Angeles, the wanted outlaw, and the seducer of married women?"

"Antonio Murillo is dead," Diego ground out. "Did you have anything to do with that?"

"Me?" asked Domingo innocently. "No, it was purely an accident, an accident that nearly destroyed my plans for you." He shook his head. "No, I mean the woman you've been fucking is a married woman. I should know, I am her husband."

Diego's legs started to give out and he had to grab at the nearest wall to keep himself upright. His stomach roiled as his head spun. No, Dios mio, no. He wouldn't have touched her, wouldn't have put his. . . Maldonado had to be lying. Wouldn't have Violetta's mother known her daughter had remarried? Unless she had kept it a secret from the older woman. Madre de Dios, this was a nightmare.

"Oh, it's true, de la Vega. I have proof." Diego glanced up to see his rival's gloating smile. A rage came over him, so swift and so violent, he didn't realize he had punched the other man several times until Domingo had fallen to the ground, wiping blood from his nose.

"You'll pay for that," Maldonado said as he struggled to his feet. "Tomorrow, at dawn. You know the area, you pick the place. Oh, and swords, of course."

"I will not duel with you." His anger had been replaced by a sense of calm detachment. "It's against the law."

"And we both are so law-abiding." Domingo chuckled. "Tomorrow," he reiterated. "And bring the money."

With that, he stalked away, laughing softly to himself. Diego just watched him go. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. His life, his honor, devastated by the one person who had always managed to provoke him like no one else ever could. Maldonado had needled him from the day they had first met for reasons Diego still could not fathom. It was as if Diego's mere of existence was cause enough.

But before he could brood on his dilemma any further, he heard creaky wheels drawing up in front of the hacienda. As bad as his luck was running, it was probably the elder de la Vega and the women and if Maldonado had lingered. . .

Diego sprinted to the front courtyard, relieved to see his father assisting the ladies from the carriage and his old nemesis nowhere in sight. Gracias a Dios.

"Diego, who was that man riding away from the house?" asked Don Alejandro when he noticed his son.

"Oh, just a traveler asking for directions," he lied with a joviality he did not feel. His gaze fell upon Violetta, whom he noted was pale and fidgety. She had obviously recognized Maldonado and realized the day of reckoning had arrived. He needed to wring a confession from her before she did something drastic, like flee. Or worse.

"I wonder if I might take Violetta out to the pasture to show her the new calves?" He directed the invitation at Señora Gomez, who glanced at his father. The old don nodded.

"Very well, but not for too long," the older woman admonished. "You should take a nap when you get back, hija. You look tired."

"We'll only be a few minutes." Diego grabbed Violetta's hand and placed it on his arm before she could come up with an excuse, and headed off in the direction of the nearest pasture.

She spoke as soon as they were out of earshot. "You know, don't you." It wasn't even a question.

"Yes, I know everything," he spat out. "I know you lied to me."

"He made me do it." Tears began to stream down her cheeks. "He blackmailed my husband first. Antonio. . .he had an affair and Maldonado found out and used it to force Antonio to deliver a letter to you. After he found out Antonio's ship sank, he came to me to pay his respects. He kept coming to visit me until one day he. . .he. . ."

She threw herself against Diego, who had to put his arms around her to keep her from tumbling them both to the ground. "What did he do?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. "Did he force himself. . .?

He felt Violetta nod her head on his chest. "Then he told me he would tell everyone it was my idea and ruin my reputation. I. . .I had no choice.

A rush of sympathy swept through him, one he immediately quashed. "You had a choice. You could have told me about his plot. . . You could have. . ."

"No, you don't understand, I didn't want to do it," she cried. "I. . .I fell in love with you. I couldn't help myself. Please, Diego, just give him the money and he will leave us alone and we can be together. . ."

Pushing her away, Diego stumbled over to lean against a tree. "He says you are his wife. Is that true?"

"Yes," she whispered. "I didn't want to, he forced me to marry him. He said it was too delicious an idea to pass up." She reached out with her hands. "Por favor, I didn't want to do any of this. . ."

He brushed her aside. "I wouldn't have touched you if I had known you were a married woman. I wouldn't have gone anywhere near you if I had known you were married to him. You've caused me to break vows I have made to myself, vows I have made to other people. If I never see you again, it would be too soon."

Diego tried to walk away but she grasped his arm. "Please, no. I love you. Please believe me. You can't leave me." Catching him off-guard, she managed to press him up against the tree then crushed her body onto his. "Please, Diego, let me show you how much I love you."

Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned his trousers, reaching inside and grasping his hardening shaft. He groaned as she knelt down and took him into her mouth. It felt so good, he never wanted it to stop. He had almost lost himself in the pleasure when the image of Maldonado's sneering face floated through his mind. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he shoved her away, uncharacteristically not caring as she fell on her bottom.

"Stay away from me," he warned as he did up his buttons. "I don't care how much you love me. I. . .I don't feel the same way," he fibbed. "You need to go back to your husband. I'm through with you."

Marching away, he fought the urge to glance over his shoulder to see if she was all right. I don't care. I can't care. He could feel his nails digging into his palms, his hands were so tightly fisted. He had bigger problems at the moment. Even though he told Maldonado he wouldn't duel, he really had no other option. He certainly did not want the other man to seek him out, in a public venue, and force the matter. That was one of the things Domingo excelled at, bullying others to do his bidding.

Once he had reached the hacienda, he went to his desk and scribbled out the place where he would meet his rival, drawing a map even a simpleton would be able to follow. After the message had been dispatched, Diego retreated to the cave, where he spent the rest of the day and night, too ashamed to face his father or Felipe, and too vulnerable to see Violetta without the probability he would succumb to her sexual charms yet again.

An hour before dawn, he rode his mare out of the stables to a small arroyo about a mile north of the pueblo.

Z Z Z

"Ah, Diego, glad you could make it." Maldonado, in his shirtsleeves, was practicing his lunges as Diego rode up to the rendezvous site. A small boy from the pueblo held the reins of his horse, a glossy chestnut. "Did you bring the money?"

"No, " Diego replied as he dismounted. He then walked over to the lad and handed him a coin. "Go home, Roberto."

The youngster glanced nervously at Domingo then took off running. The other man laughed. "So, no witnesses, eh, de la Vega? Don't want anyone to know how proficient you are with a saber?" He nodded at the sword on Diego's hip. "That's not the championship sword."

"No, it isn't." Diego unsheathed his old school saber from its scabbard.

Maldonado shrugged. "No matter. I will find it after I kill you. It never should have been yours in the first place. I was Kendall's best student. Until you tricked him into thinking you were. How did you do it, de la Vega?" He tossed his sword from one hand to the other.

"Is this what all this is about?," Diego asked incredulously. "Sir Edmund's sword?"

"I worked harder than you, " Domingo's voice had a touch of hysteria to it. "It should have been mine."

"I proved to him I was the best student," Diego stated confidently. "And it will never be yours."

"We will see about that," said Maldonado, whipping his sword upright. "En garde!"

Then he attacked.

Z Z Z

CHAPTER TEN


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