CHAPTER 9: "PARADISE LOST"
He knew immediately what had awakened him. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it of the images. His own pleas, beginning for forgiveness, rang in his head. For the first time in years, he hoped his mother could not watch him from above. Tonight, her son had not been the gentleman she raised him to be.
Turning to look at Victoria, he remembered how angry her parents had been at him in the nightmare. He understood it perfectly. The de la Vegas and Escalantes were old friends, and friends honored one another. Taking their daughter to bed without the sanctity of marriage was not a way of honoring them or their memory.
In the dream, he had stood in front of a tribunal made up of the three parents no longer here. His arguments of love and hope had fallen on deaf ears. Sighing, Diego focused on Victoria. He would handle the guilt later.
Her hair spilled out around her face. The moonlight seemed to be drawn to her more than anything else in the room. Diego did not mind, though. It was where he wanted it to, where he needed it. He was a realist by nature, and his instincts were remarkably accurate. Tonight did not mean his life was going to be different. All of Victoria's comments about the future warned him of that fact.
He laid his head on her chest, enjoying the warmth of her body beneath him. Her arms wrapped around him, and she moaned. For a few minutes he thought she was still asleep, but when she gently began stroking his hair he knew she was awake.
Every muscle in his body tensed, so she started caressing his shoulders instead. He heard her sighing, and somehow managed to tense even more. Waiting for her words, he felt like a condemned man. He waited for her judgment to join their parents. "I'm hungry," she declared.
Diego felt the breath leave him in quick stream of air. He kissed her softly on the stomach before laughing. "I somehow expected you to say something else," he admitted, as he looked up to her.
Victoria's eyes stayed focused on him for a minute. Finally, sighing, she shook her head. "It's still tonight," she said. Diego understood and nodded himself.
"Well, Señorita Escalante, I guess we need to go see if the owner of this fine establishment has anything to feed you," he teased, pulling himself up so he was sitting in the bed.
Laughing, Victoria also sat up. Leaning over to kiss him on the lips, she replied with a saucy grin, "I hear she's an excellent cook."
"Funny," Diego said, standing to pull up his pants, "I've heard the same thing myself. Do you think she might fix me something to eat, too?"
She frowned as if she were thinking about it. "Well, she might, but I bet it will cost you."
"How much do you think it would be?" Diego started to put his arm through his shirt sleeve, then thinking about it, threw it over the back of a chair.
Victoria sauntered over to him and stepped into his arms. "I don't really know, but I hear she's a generous sort. She lets you pay after you eat."
Diego's stomach twisted in nervousness and excitement. "Really?" He put his hands on Victoria's hips and said: "I guess we need to go find her then."
"I guess so," Victoria said in a husky voice. Then, she kissed him quickly on the lips and laughed as she walked out the door.
***
He followed her down the steps, enjoying the view. The thin robe caressed her skin, showing every curve of her body. His eyes strayed to her hips as she swayed into the kitchen. Victoria was a beautiful woman, but more importantly to him, she was an incredible person whose spirit and kindness drew him to her in a way physical beauty never would.
Looking around her kitchen for a moment, Diego saw the business owner working. It only took her a moment to decide their menu and she quickly went about gathering the ingredients. Picking up a knife, she turned to look at him. Then, wearing a grin, she handed it to Diego, along with a potato and onion. "I'm sure even you know how to use a knife." Her eyes twinkled.
With a bashful grin, Diego took the items from her hands; she had no clue how good he was with a knife. He was very skilled with any blade; however, he had never used those skills in a kitchen before now. He started to peel and dice, as Victoria poured a little olive oil into a skillet. When she had placed the skillet in the fire to heat it, she turned to watch him work. She began to laugh. "What?" he demanded, certain he was doing everything right.
"I should have given you two potatoes. Most of that one went with the peel," she answered in-between giggles. Looking down at the discarded potato skin, he admitted she was right. He had the skill, but tonight he did not have the concentration. Most of his thoughts were staying on Victoria. He was enjoying just being with her, even though it was, he feared, a fool's paradise. What would the morning bring?
She apparently saw the question on his face. "Tonight is tonight, Diego," she repeated from earlier. "We aren't thinking about the future right now, remember?"
He nodded, looking down to dice the onion. Her non-answer was answer enough. Tomorrow, his heart would be more battered. There were no plans in Victoria's mind of having a relationship with Diego de la Vega, anymore than she planned to continue her relationship with Zorro. Diego's mind, the curious thing that it was, demanded to know why tonight even happened.
Then, he looked up into her face. He saw fear in her face, fear that he was going to insist they talk about what happened earlier, and fear that he would leave if she refused. It might be a fool's paradise, but it was paradise, if only for a night. Diego smiled at her, and Victoria returned it, even if it was somewhat shaky.
***
Later, much later, Diego and Victoria lay in front of the fire. While busy cooking their omelets, Victoria had sent him to fetch some blankets from upstairs, telling him she wanted to lay them in front of the fire and have a picnic. Diego thought her choice of location strange--after all, her bed would have been a more comfortable picnic locale--but he had been unable to deny her even that request. So, after Diego arranged the blankets, and Victoria brought over the steaming plates of eggs, they had eaten their omelets in content silence.
Afterwards, they began reminiscing. Victoria sat up, holding her side because she was laughing so hard. "Oh, I remember. Your father was so angry, Diego. I think that was the only time I saw you get a spanking," she said after finally catching her breath.
Diego remained reclined on the blanket. He reached over, took her hand, and gently began to stroke it. Her hands, callused from hard work, were still lovely. She had the same graceful fingers as his mother, and Diego believed, given the instruction, she would be as good of a piano player. "Oh, I received more than one spanking, but I didn't get many," he admitted.
She looked down at their entwined fingers. "You were always too well-behaved."
It was Diego's turn to laugh hard. "No, I was fortunately smart enough not to get caught too often. My father would still be furious if he found out about some of the stuff I did as a child. I never did anything that could hurt anyone else, but I was always exploring and challenging myself. I lived in terror he would find out that I was jumping canyons on our horses."
"Knew you wouldn't be able to sit on a horse for a month?" she asked playfully. She gently began caressing his hair with her free hand.
Grasping it for a moment, Diego kissed her palm, enjoying the fact that he could make her shiver. "I wasn't afraid of the punishment. Even as a young boy, I understood taking responsibility for myself. I did the crime; I would handle the correction, if caught. No, Victoria, I was afraid he would ask me not to do it anymore. I was never able to resist him, when he made requests. Not then anyway," he said sadly. Shaking his head, he finished, "I didn't want to disappoint him."
Victoria's eyes told him she understood. She had become an adult too early herself. Leaning over, she kissed him softly on the lips. Suddenly, she straddled him, and put one hand on each side of his face. "I never knew that you were so daring. Whenever you came to the pueblo you were also the prim and proper Diego de la Vega. Then, whenever we came to your hacienda, you always quickly ran off to play with Ramón and Francisco, ignoring all my pleas to let me join you all."
Laughing softly at her grin, he said, "I apologize, Señorita, but I was young and stupid back then. I thought I didn't like playing with 'dumb girls.'" Lifting his head, he gently kissed her throat. Noticing the way her pulse quickened, he reached up to kiss that spot. He smiled when she trembled.
"So, you like to play with 'dumb girls' now?" she replied, her voice lower and huskier. He could hear her unsteady breathing. Only his intelligence kept him from grinning like a fool because he could affect her so.
"I long ago stopped calling ladies 'dumb girls,' and, oh, yes, I found out that women can be very fun to play with," Diego teased, suddenly twisting so that Victoria was pinned beneath him.
Laughing a husky laugh he had not heard before tonight--but one that he was already madly in love with--she said, "I'm not sure that I was ever a 'dumb' girl though. I never got caught stealing apples from Don Sebastian," she teased him, running her fingers lightly up his chest. She smiled as he shivered.
Diego shrugged, more interested in kissing her lips than talking. "I didn't, either. But, then, I never stole any apples from him myself." He slowly started kissing down the front of her neck.
Victoria stiffened in his arms. He pulled back to look at her, worried that he had hurt or offended her in some way. Gone was her laughter; in his place was confusion. "You just told me--I remember--"
He reluctantly left his self-appointed task so he could answer her question. "I was caught with the apple cores, but I didn't steal the apples," he admitted, telling her a secret he had shared with no one else.
Victoria shook her head. "You didn't deny it to your father, Diego. I was there, trembling in fear for you. He whipped you, Diego. If you had told him the truth, he would have believed you," she said with certainty. Don Alejandro had raised his son to tell the truth; everyone took Diego's word as fact in the territory.
Touched that she was so upset about an event that had happened over twenty years ago, he softly kissed her eyelids. "I was giving the real thief a chance to step forward," he told her, softly wiping the hair away from her face. "He chose not to do it."
"I'm sorry." Her eyes sad, she gently began stroking his face, too.
Diego shook his head and then grinned. "Don't be, Victoria. There isn't any reason for it. Justice was done that day. Ramón took care of it for me," he confessed the rest of the story to her, the part he had wanted to hide.
Victoria's eyes widened. "Ramón? My brother, Ramón?"
"You remember that time Ramón whipped Francisco?"
Victoria nodded, frowning. "It was the only time they ever got in a fight--well against each other anyway. Francisco had two black eyes--What a minute! Are you saying Francisco stole those apples?" Diego knew the answer was on his face. "You should have told on him, Diego. Father would have taken care of him."
Diego, while enjoying her outrage on his behalf, wanted to return to his previous work. Kissing Victoria was much better than talking about apples stolen so long ago. "As would have Don Sebastian, and Don Sebastian would have taken care of your father, and . . ."
"What do you mean?" Victoria asked, her hands again beginning to caress his chest. He could see by the half-smile on her lips, she knew exactly what effect she was having on him.
"Victoria, as much as it pains me to admit, my punishment was mild because I was Alejandro de la Vega's son. Don Sebastian wouldn't have dared to whip me, and the citizens of Los Angeles never considered shunning me for it. I was a caballero's son, so my 'antics' could be laughed at amongst them, but Francisco would have--You know what it can be like here, sometimes. It isn't as noticeable here in Los Angeles, but--"
"We live in two very different classes," Victoria said, dropping her hand away from his chest. He thought he saw a hint of tears in her eyes, but maybe it was just the reflection of the firelight. "I know."
"We don't; you are one of the most successful and wealthiest people in this pueblo, but your father and mother didn't have your business ability." Diego smiled down at her, noticing the shuttered look on her face. "Besides, class mattered more here then. I think my father's stubborn refusal to respect a class system helped end most of the separation. Even when I returned from Spain, I could see that the lines were blurred, even more than they had been before I left. Of course, Los Angeles was a relief after Madrid."
Her face drawn into a frown, she asked, "What do you mean?"
Victoria did not seem to be enjoying their conversation, but Diego could not say he was either. The differences amongst the life of a caballero and the peons who worked for them were large, and it was never an easy subject to discuss. However, Diego wanted to talk to her about it, explain where his thoughts were.
He would have to wait before he could start kissing her again. He sat up, and then gently drew her up to sit beside him. Smiling sadly, she crawled in front of him and sat between his legs. Leaning back against his chest, she stared into the fire. He ran his hands through her hair as he spoke.
"I was raised to respect a man for who he was, and not what he was. Even worse, my father allowed me to read the thoughts of John Locke and Thomas Payne. I studied the short little history of our neighbors to the east. My mind was open to so many ideas about individual values, and I saw the problems here somewhat. However, I was used to the lines that are drawn here in the territories. Here, we all know how dependent we are on everyone else, but there--" Diego shook his head at memories he did not want to have. "There, the lines are almost unbreakable. In California, especially in Los Angeles, caballeros alone try to maintain the status quo, but, in Spain, everyone knows their place and stays there. If a peon tries to improve himself, he's not only shunned by the elite, but by his own class."
Victoria slowly relaxed, leaning back into his arms easier. "It doesn't sound like a place I would want to live."
Diego laughed. "Honestly? I don't either. It's strange; here in the colonies, I'm months, if not years, behind the scientific discoveries that I love. In Madrid, I could be at the heart of the community, hearing about experiments months before a paper was even published, but I don't want to live there. I want to live here," he told her, slowly stroking her arm. It was something he had never considered, but he knew it was true. "California is my home, and it is where I want to live the rest of my life."
"The wildness here calls to your soul," she said so softly that Diego strained to hear her. Surprised by her statement, he admitted that it was true. The wild beauty of his home soothed a restless energy that was in him, the one so few people knew about or even suspected.
Victoria shook her head. Standing suddenly, she turned and held out her hand. "I want to dance some more."
Diego smiled, understanding her desire to leave the discussion. He took her hand, and brought her close to his body. "I would have thought that you had enough dancing for the night." He saw she understood that he was teasing her.
"You're my favorite dance partner, and we don't get to dance together much," she whispered softly into his ear.
Diego tensed, but forced himself to relax. He knew what she was saying. After tonight, she believed there would be no more dancing for them, at least not with each other. Diego refused to feel the pain, putting it away as he had so much other pain over the years. Tonight was tonight, and he was going to enjoy his paradise, and the pain could be worried about tomorrow, when he time to think about it. Smiling, he led her across the floor.
***
Sometime before dawn--the time when the dark of twilight had left but the sun had not yet rose--Diego woke up disoriented. Zorro's training and experience came to the forefront, and he immediately began noting things about his environment. He was lying on a floor, in front of a fireplace, instead of his bed.
Memories of last night flooded his mind, causing him to gasp in joy, guilt, and heartache. He reached over for Victoria, but she was no longer beside him. Lifting his eyes, he saw her picking up her discarded robe. She was a beautiful sight to see first thing in the morning, he thought, remembering all of his former dreams about seeing her every morning. His heart tightened in his chest. Would today bring more heartache or fulfilled dreams? The practical part of his nature knew the answer, but the romantic insisted that Victoria would realize the truth any moment.
She finally looked at him after her hands finished tying the cord of her robe around her waist. "You should get dressed. The garrison will start waking up soon," she told him in a flat, emotionless voice. "You need to go home."
Diego stood, afraid to speak. What could he say to make her love him? He slowly drew up his pants as he watched Victoria. She had turned her back to him, and she was standing as still as tree on a windless day. Gone was the laughing lover of last night.
If he made his confessions, would it matter to her? Would it help his cause or harm it? It did not matter: he needed to tell her the truth, no matter what the outcome. He should have shared it with her and his father long ago. They, along with Felipe, were the most important people to him, and he had spent years hiding from them.
He opened his mouth to confess both his love and his identity. "Victoria, I--"
She twirled around suddenly, quickly placing a finger over his lips as she shook her head. Diego's heart broke when he saw the tears streaming down her face. She was not as casual about what happened as she was trying to pretend. "No, Diego! Last night was last night, and today is today. While I don't have to think about the future, you do."
Diego searched the eyes of the woman he loved, hoping desperately to discover a truth. She was the only puzzle he had never been able to work. Every time he thought he had her figured out, some new piece that he had never seen appeared. His heart told him that she loved him, but his mind argued that she would not lie about her feelings--or anything else, for that matter. It was an argument that his heart had not been able to defeat.
Feeling his heart pound in his throat, Diego took a deep breath. "Victoria, you don't understand. I--"
Again, she violently shook her head, her hair flying around her face, hiding it away from him. It was then he knew she would refuse to listen. "I understand more than you think, Diego. I know a lot more, too." She finally looked into his eyes. Both of them stood silent and still for a heartbeat. "We can tell ourselves that last night was satisfying a long-held curiosity."
Diego thought of all the punches he had received from bandits over the years. None was to close to causing the gut-wrenching pain he was feeling now. "Long-held curi--"
Victoria, with tears, in her eyes, made a little 'z' in the air. The image of the woman standing before him caused him to remember another moment with her: as Diego, he told her that she looked as happy as a lamb. When he asked the reason, she had signed a little 'z' in much the same way she did today. A crying Victoria and a smiling Victoria--both of them were new artillery for his heart and mind in their month-long war.
Diego stopped talking. Then, "You know," was all he could whisper. She slowly nodded, with the tears still glistening in her eyes, but none of them slipped past her defenses. Her cheeks remained dry. "How long?" he heard himself ask, not really wanting to know the answer, but desperate to hear it. He felt numb.
"A month," she admitted, choking it out past trembling lips.
The answers to all the "whys" that plagued him for so long were suddenly clear. Victoria saw the ordinary man beneath the mask, and knew she could not love him, no matter what promises she had given. After closing his eyes, and reminding himself that he was a man, he reached for her. To his surprise, she willing let him hold her for a few minutes. Finally, he bent down to kiss her. It was a soft kiss, a kiss of regret and longing, and of goodbye. He pulled away, reached for his clothes, and left her alone in the kitchen as he had so many times before as Zorro. Only this time, he left through the curtain. Paradise was lost.
END OF CHAPTER 9