Bride of the Baja (26 page)

Esteban shrugged. "As you wish," he said.

Reluctantly Alitha allowed Don Benito to lead her to the floor as she wiped away tears of rage and hurt. "You are far more beautiful than
La Coralilla
," he murmured into her ear.

"I—I don't think I feel like dancing just now," she said.

"Whatever you wish."

"I'm afraid Dona Anise's dressmaker was right about my costume," Alitha said. "I just don't understand Spanish customs." She pushed the words past the tightness in her throat.

"When one is as delightful as you are, my dear," Don Benito told her, "nothing is improper."

La Coralilla's
behavior was far more vulgar than her peasant costume, Alitha told herself. Yet Esteban hadn't seemed to mind—he had, in fact, encouraged the dancer. She looked around but couldn't see either of them.

Laughter came from behind her. A man spoke in Spanish and she picked out several words.
Cabeza
, head.
La Coralilla
. Esteban. Salome. Were they saying the dancer would have Esteban's head on her platter instead of John the Baptist's?

Tears clouding her vision, she turned to Don Benito. "Please," she said. "Take me home. I—I don't feel well."

He hesitated momentarily. "I am at your service, of course. But Don Esteban . . . ?"

"I don't care!" Her voice rose. "I don't care about Don Esteban, do you hear?"

For once Alitha didn't wake early to the peddlers' cries. She'd lain awake most of the night waiting for Esteban. When, near dawn, she still hadn't heard him, she finally fell asleep and dreamed of sailing aboard a ship whose figurehead was
La Coralilla
, naked to the waist. Alitha woke with a start. The brown face of the maid floated above her. The
galopina's
Spanish was too rapid for her to follow but she gathered that there was a gentleman waiting in the
sala
.

Alitha sat up. Who . . . ? Oh, yes, she vaguely remembered promising Dona Anise she would accompany her today to the castle of Chapultepec, a short league from the city. Naturally they would have to be escorted by a man, as was the custom. Don Benito must have come for her.

She looked at Concepcion, the
galopina
. "Don Esteban," Alitha said, then paused. What was the word for return? "
Volverd
?"

"No, senorita."

Alitha dressed in one of her newer gowns, a low-necked celestial blue taffeta with a bell-shaped skirt stiffened with buckram which cleared the floor when she walked to show her slippers. She took pains to twist her hair into a becoming chignon, determined to look her best when Esteban did come home. First, of course, she would have to dismiss Don Benito.

When she entered the
sala
, he rose, smiling.

"As beautiful as the day," he told her. "I trust you are over your indisposition of last night? Alas, Dona Anise lies ill—a headache—this morning. I fear she cannot come with us to Chapultepec."

When he smiled, she noticed, Don Benito looked younger, with his teeth white against his skin. He was a distinguished man, with graying hair waved back from his forehead and intelligent dark eyes. But as she gazed at him, Don Esteban's face superimposed itself over Don Benito's.

Was Esteban even now lying in the arms of that woman, that dancer? Why else wouldn't he have come home? Her eyes burned with unshed tears. How could he do this to her? Were all his protestations of love self-serving lies?

"I have taken the liberty of having my servants pack breakfast for us so that we might get an early start,” Don Benito said.

She focused her eyes on his with an effort. What was he saying? Breakfast? She never wanted to eat again.

"I'm sorry, I hope you'll understand that I don't feel like going."

Don Benito inclined his head. "Naturally. I should have realized Don Esteban would not permit you to travel to the castle alone with me."

He thought Esteban wouldn't let her go? He was right—Esteban would be furious if he came to the
casa
and found her gone. Alitha took a deep breath Esteban deserved to be upset. And certainly there was little to fear from Don Benito. Damn Esteban--she'd go!

They drove through the city, passing the
leperos
, the beggars, in their rags, half-naked Indians, some of the women carrying babies on their backs in cloth slings, peasant girls in colorful dresses. Also a few well-dressed gentlemen, both afoot and on horseback. It was too early for the Spanish ladies in their mantillas to be about.

Don Benito leaned across her to point out the cathedral. "If we are to believe de Castillo," he said "the chronicler of Cortes, the old Aztec heathen temple, the Teocalli, on this same site was far more impressive."

"La Catedril is very beautiful," Alitha murmured.

The road they traveled was one of the better roads in Mexico, Alitha thought, paved and divided by an aqueduct with massive arches. She half-listened to Don Benito ramble on about the history of the city until they came to gates guarded by soldiers.

Don Benito leaned from the carriage window and spoke to them, and the gates were thrown open. In a few minutes the carriage was passing beneath huge evergreens.

"The largest is Montezuma's Cypress," Don Benito said. "More properly Moctezuma's."

Gray moss hung from the branches, making them look even more ancient than they must be. The carriage climbed a steep hill, finally stopping in front of the castle, Don Benito got out first and helped her alight. Alitha stared at the huge arches and heavy walls of the castle.

"It looks more like a fortress than a summer retreat—isn't that what you told me it was intended for?" she asked.

"An early viceroy, Count Galvez, claimed he had such in mind. His superiors in Spain did not believe him and, as you can see, the castle was never finished."

"Dona Anise told me that according to the talk in the cafes, your present Spanish governor, Viceroy Apodaca, will soon be forced to return to Spain, and the government will be seized by the people of New Spain—the revolutionaries."

Don Benito shrugged. "
Quien sabe
? Of a certainty we have many able men in Mexico, but they fight among themselves. Ah, but you must know all this. They whisper about Don Esteban in the cafes, also. I shall be extremely sorry to see you sail for Spain."

"Spain? I'm not going to Spain."

"No? Perhaps the talk is wrong. Because of Don Esteban's friendship with old-guard monarchists, he is naturally suspected of being in on the plots.”

She stared at him. "What plots?"

He shrugged. "It is nothing. Mere cafe gossip, which one should never listen to, much less repeat. There has always been talk of a secret place where Moctezuma's treasure is hidden. The monarchists intrigue to obtain this gold for King Ferdinand. But enough of politics." He waved his hand. "You are far more interesting."

When they had climbed to the terrace around the castle, she saw that the building was falling to ruin. No glass was in the windows, and the doors were warped and weathered. From the terrace she stared out over the valley toward the two snow-capped volcanoes, Popocatepetl and Ixtachuatl.

"What an unbelievable view!" she exclaimed. "I shall never forget being here."

Don Benito took her hand. "I shall never forget being here with you."

She disengaged her hand and moved away. "You haven't told me all of the history of Chapultepec Hill, have you?" she asked brightly. "Perhaps you could do so while we walk back to the carriage." She started toward the stairs.

After a moment he followed. "The beginning of the Aztec civilization was on this hill," he said. "The Indians who first settled here were nomadic barbarians who dressed in skins and ate their meat raw."

"I thought the Aztecs were highly civilized when Cortes arrived."

"So they were. Though they never lost the hideous habit of making sacrifices to their gods. They skinned human beings and performed their devil dances while wearing the skins."

Alitha grimaced. Don Benito handed her into the carriage, then climbed in beside her and the driver started down the hill.

"The other Indian tribes in the area hated such practices, even as you do, so the Aztecs were hunted and killed," he said. "Eventually the survivors built Tenochtitlan on an island in Lake Texcoco, the beginning of our city. Their legend has it that they founded the city on that spot because they saw an eagle perched on a
nopal
, a prickly pear cactus, with a snake in his beak, and that was their prophetic sign."

"You are very knowledgeable," she said as the carriage pulled up beneath the giant cypresses. She looked at Don Benito.

"We have yet to breakfast," he said. "I thought we would eat in the garden."

"I should return home."

"It is early," he said, getting out.

Alitha stared down at him for a moment, then accepted his hand. She had grown surprisingly hungry, and surely she could discourage any advances Don Benito might make. He'd always behaved courteously.

He led her along a wide path bordered by wild and tangled shrubs to a garden where flowers bloomed. There he spread a cloth for her to sit on and opened the basket of food.

After they had finished breakfast Alitha's head drooped. She had scarcely slept at all last night, and now could barely keep her eyes open.

Don Benito waved his arm. "All this belonged to Moctezuma," he said. "He had gardens, aviaries, fish ponds. Even tanks for bathing. From the hill where the castle now stands, he looked out over his great Aztec city with its many lakes and its mighty temples to his gods. The mightiest of the gods was Huitzilopochtli, the armed protector."

Alitha only half-listened to the drone of his voice, hearing the strange Aztec words drift in
and out of her consciousness. Sleep, she needed to sleep. She must tell Don Benito she had to leave...A man's arms held her close, his mouth on hers. His hand fumbled at the buttons on her dress and she opened her eyes. Suddenly very much awake, she found herself on her back, staring up at

Don Benito. She tried to pull away.

"No," she gasped. "No!"

"My lovely fair-haired flower," he murmured, bending his head to her bared breast.

                                          CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A shadow fell across the struggling pair. Both Alitha and Don Benito froze, then looked up. A man stood beside them, a mocking smile on his lips. For a moment Alitha thought he was a stranger, but then with a start she recognized him.

"Your lecture on the Aztecs was most entertaining," Jordan Quinn said. "What you're doing now isn't."

Don Benito scrambled to his feet as Alitha, reddening, rebuttoned her dress. Jordan walked across the grass and bowed to her.

"Miss Bradford, if I may." He reached down and helped Alitha to her feet.

Don Benito dropped to one knee in front of her. "I was overwhelmed by my admiration for you," he said. "Senorita, if you will only forgive me. How could I help myself? Seeing you here in all your loveliness, being with you today, how could I resist my admittedly baser impulses? Can you ever forgive me? Will you ever forgive me?"

Alitha stared down at him, speechless. Don Benito seemed ludicrous with his disheveled hair and his flushed face as he protested his innocence. She didn't feel like laughing, though, for she realized too well what might have happened if Jordan Quinn hadn't intervened.

"I think you'd best leave," Jordan said to Don Benito, "while I escort Miss Bradford home. That is your carriage under the cypresses, isn't it?"

"My carriage?" Don Benito struggled to his feet. "No, not actually mine, I rented it for the day. I hope you'll have pity, sir, on a poor scholar who receives very little remuneration for his work. If it weren't for Dona Anise, my more than generous cousin, I would be forced to enter trade to earn my livelihood. Forgive me my circumlocution--it's the curse of the scholar to be less than direct. I beg you not to let Don Esteban know what occurred here today." Don Benito looked apprehensively from Jordan to Alitha.

Embarrassed, Alitha turned her head aside. Don Benito was not only ludicrous, he was making a complete fool of himself. How could she have ever thought him distinguished?

"I don't intend to tell Don Esteban," Alitha said.

Jordan nodded. "I suggest we all forget that this unfortunate scene ever took place," he said.

Don Benito took a large lace handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face. "You, sir, are a gentleman," he told Jordan. "When I was a younger man, I would have challenged Don Esteban to meet me on the field of honor. However, when a man grows older ..." He sighed.

"I think I hear your horses pawing the ground with impatience," Jordan said.

"My horses?"

"Your hired carriage, Don Benito. The longer you delay returning to the stable, the more pesos your carriage will cost you."