Disclaimers: The characters from the Queen of Swords series are copyright to Fireworks and Paramount. No infringement is intended nor revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author, Maril.

VS Episode #219

Birthright
by Maril

Part One of Three

Sequel to "Always A Mask" which ended with the Queen damning Montoya to hell, and Helm not sure about Tessa and Montoya's relationship.

Acknowledgments: heaps of praise and flowery phrase to Eliza for her unerringly critical eye which saved many part of this story and improved many others. Also thanks, Eliza, for the enjoyment and intellectual pleasure of the collaboration on our two stories. I think both are stronger for the synergy of two minds. Thanks also to brig for her comments and suggestions which I have incorporated into the story. No one can overestimate the value of wonderful beta readers like Eliza and brig. Thanks again, amigas.

Prologue

Helm watched with relief as the bride and groom moved through the guests making their farewells. Propriety demanded that, as groomsman, he stay for the whole wedding. The bride, radiant in her emerald green gown with its white lace mantilla, drawn back now that the ceremony was over, smiled and kissed her way toward the exit. Her new husband, looking anxious and embarrassed, followed in her wake as he accepted handshakes and probably some unwanted advice for the wedding night. The courting couple had spent very little time alone as Jorge, the groom, had complained to Helm many times during the past year. Now, finally, they were allowed to be together, their union sanctioned by the Church and society.

Helm's gaze shifted to Señorita Alvarado as it had many times during the evening. As she watched the newly-married couple depart, a wistful expression settled on her beautiful face. Helm wondered why, if she wanted to be married, she had not accepted Montoya's proposal. The gossip he had heard from Vera was that Tessa had turned the colonel down without an explanation. And in a letter, of all things! A smile began to pull across his lips as he observed how the two erstwhile lovers had been carefully polite while trying to avoid each other throughout the wedding reception.

Of course, the señorita could choose from among her many admirers. All evening he had noticed the constant parade of hopeful young swains, sons of local dons, who asked her to dance. For each she allowed two dances and then would return to Marta. She gave them all the same courtesy, the same aloof smiles but no encouragement. The señorita resisted all the young men's attempts to get her exclusive attentions. A coy look, a light laugh, a tap on the arm with her fan, and the young don would find himself staring after her as she moved away to join a group of her friends, or if he was too importunate, to disappear for a while. Helm smirked to himself. He knew only too well how a Spanish woman could encourage a man's hopes as she had undoubtedly done to Montoya. He took a sly pleasure in that wound to Montoya's pride.

The violin struck up a lively tune, followed by the guitars and the party resumed. It would probably go on all night, Helm thought. 'I'll just stay around long enough to be proper, then go home.'

Movement near Señorita Alvarado caught his eye. Her cousin, Enrique, had rejoined her. Seeing the two together, he was struck again by the strong family resemblance. The same graceful height, the same dark beauty distinguished them both.

The señorita drew herself up more rigidly and gave her cousin a chilly look. Enrique smirked and said something which made her glance away quickly, anger written on her features.

'Family,' Helm thought in amusement. 'You travel half-way around the world and still can't get away from them.' He could see there was friction between the two cousins. Rumour had it that her uncle, Alejandro, had sent his younger son to help Señorita Alvarado manage her hacienda. While in Santa Elena, the elder Alvarado had made no secret of his wish to see his niece married. He had even made enquiries among the local dons for any possible alliances. Helm smiled to himself, wondering how the señorita had taken that, like being auctioned off as a brood mare. Not well, he decided, as he now watched her turn to her cousin, speaking animatedly. Even from his vantage point across the room, the doctor could see the colour rising in the young man's face as he gave her a curt bow and strode away. Helm had seen evidence of her sharp tongue before, even had it directed at himself on a few occasions.

For the moment, she was alone and Helm felt obliged to cross the floor and ask her to dance. He was, after all, the host of the evening now that the groom was gone. As he stood up from his table, he noticed someone else moving toward her. Captain Grisham! Damn! Another suitor. She had not seen him yet. Grisham had a shrewd, almost calculating look in those glittering blue eyes as he approached her. With an affected bow, the captain seemed to be asking her to dance. Helm compressed his lips in annoyance. He had waited too long.

With her usual grace she moved among the dancers with Grisham, while he held her very closely in a waltz. Helm noticed a look pass between the señorita and her duenna, Marta. The Gypsy woman picked up her mistress' shawl and stood ready near the edge of the dance floor. Obviously, rescue was at hand, Helm thought with a wry smile. Once again, he wondered about the relationship between the two women, less servant and mistress than close friends.

The dance ended and he could see Tessa making her excuses to Grisham as Marta draped the shawl over her shoulders. Helm moved quickly toward the group to do his duty as groomsman, bidding the wedding guests good evening. He could see that Grisham seemed to be imploring her to remain and she was just as adamant about leaving.

As he joined them, Montoya strolled into the group. A sudden awkward silence developed and Helm watched the colour mount into Tessa's cheeks. She raised her chin and looked the colonel in the eye with a gracious smile. "Buenas noches, Colonel Montoya."

Bending stiffly in a courtly bow and kissing her hand, the colonel hesitated a moment before speaking. His eyes seemed to bore into hers as if in a duel, but she did not waver her own gaze. Finally, he said, "I have not had the pleasure of a dance with you this evening, Señorita Alvarado. Unfortunately, I see I have waited too long as you seem to be leaving."

"Yes, Colonel. As soon as I find my cousin, Enrique, we are going home. It has been a most enjoyable, but fatiguing evening."

Montoya said smoothly, "If you will wait a few more minutes, Señorita Alvarado, I will find the young scamp and send him to you." With a quick bow and an inscrutable glance at Helm, the colonel disappeared into the crowd of guests in the Rose Courtyard.

"Meanwhile, Señorita Alvarado, as my duties have kept me from asking you to dance, perhaps you would do me the honour while your cousin is being searched for." Helm held out his hand and to his surprise, she smiled and took it.

"It would be my pleasure, Doctor." With that, she handed her shawl back to Marta and glided out onto the floor with him. He had never been much of a dancer but she seemed to know where his clumsy feet were at all times and avoided them deftly. His admiration for her went up several notches.

For a few moments, they danced in silence while Helm searched for something clever to say. All he could come up with was, "Your cousin seems to be a nice chap. How long is he staying in California?" Immediately, he realized it was the wrong topic as he felt her take a sudden deep breath and rigidly draw away from him.

She quickly composed herself though in the lamplight, her dark eyes glittered irately. "Enrique was sent by Uncle Alejandro to help me but he has proven to know nothing about the managing of a vineyard and only interferes where he is not wanted." She closed her lips and looked away. He was sure she had not meant to blurt out her frustration like that.

With a gentle squeeze of her hand, Helm tried to convey his sympathy. "It must be difficult enough for you to manage your workers without your cousin trying to usurp your authority," he said. His compassion was rewarded by a warm smile. Something inside seemed to flip over and his chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Indeed, her beauty took his breath away.

Helm realized vaguely that the music had stopped and he was staring at her. She turned her gaze from his to scan the room and, with a sinking sensation, he knew she was searching for her cousin. She still wanted to leave, but suddenly he wanted her to stay. 'It must be the wine or the romance of a wedding,' he thought as he led her back to Marta. 'Funny but I've never actually noticed her before, how the light sparkles in her eyes, how lovely is her laugh, how warm and comfortable it is to be near her.'

"Since Enrique is still among the missing, would you dance with me again, Señorita Alvarado?" He watched her look at Marta whose expression seemed tense. There appeared a momentary warning in Marta's eyes. It vanished quickly and he wondered if he had imagined it.

"Thank you, Doctor, but I feel fatigued and wish to return home," she said as Marta laid the shawl over her mistress' shoulders and they both turned toward the exit. "Tell Enrique he can find his own way back," she added with a harsh edge.

"I'll see you safely to your wagon then, " Helm said as he took her arm.

The music and cheerful sounds from the party faded as they left the Rose Courtyard and walked out into the quiet pueblo street. Tessa suddenly stopped and Helm followed the direction of her startled gaze. Her cousin, Enrique, was standing near the town fountain, one foot propped casually on the low wall, a picture of languid grace. With him, his back to them, was Colonel Montoya. Helm could see they were engaged in earnest conversation and unaware of their presence.

Helm strode over to the colonel and the young man. As he did, they both turned, an almost guilty expression on their faces.

"I see you have found Señor Alvarado, Colonel. His cousin wishes to leave now." Helm smiled at Enrique and was given a sour look in return.

"You may tell my cousin she is to await my pleasure in the Courtyard until I am ready to leave." With that Enrique turned away, an arrogant twist marring his handsome face.

"Tell her yourself, if you dare," Helm replied. He chuckled as he watched the young man draw erect and then stride off to join the two women already sitting on their wagon. As soon as he climbed on, Marta flipped the whip over the team of horses. In a cloud of dust, the wagon disappeared through the town gates. A sense of loss swept through Helm for a moment as he watched her go. He wondered about her effect on him tonight. 'I must stop drinking so much. It clouds the brain,' he thought.

"Maidens, like moths, are ever caught by glare," Montoya said suddenly, breaking into Helm's thoughts. "Lord Byron," he added with wry smile.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Helm retorted.

"And sometimes, maidens are not the only ones blinded by the light." Montoya patted Helm on the arm, then turned with a chuckle toward the Commandancia, leaving Helm nonplussed by his inscrutable babble. He also wondered what the colonel and Enrique were discussing and why they seemed so disconcerted when he interrupted them.

Act One - Scene 1

The wagon suddenly bounced over a rock, sending Enrique jostling against Tessa. With a hard push, she shoved him away. "Stay on your own side, Enrique!" she snapped.

"You always take more than your share of everything, Tessa," he retorted angrily as he pushed her back against Marta, nearly knocking her over.

Marta pulled the horses to a halt and stood up. In a stern voice, she said to Tessa, "You sit there," pointing to the outside of the wagon seat. Tessa slid over, crossed her arms and glared at Enrique. "And you," Marta added to Enrique, shaking the end of the buggy whip under his nose. "I have not forgotten how to deal with boys who bully girls." He turned away with a sneer to face the night-dark landscape.

With a long-suffering sigh, Marta sat down between them and started the wagon once more. In the sullen silence, her memory went back to the visits which Don Alejandro seemed to feel obliged to make several times a year to Tessa's home in Madrid. Alejandro usually left his two sons with her and spent most of the visit at the Spanish Court where he had some position. Sometimes, his older son, Ricardo, went with his father, leaving the younger, very resentful Enrique in her care.

Marta frowned, thinking of the many childish squabbles she had broken up when Tessa and Enrique were forced to endure each other's company. 'It's as if no time at all has passed since they were children,' she thought. 'They are like tinder and flint when they are together ...first there will be smoke, then fire.' She sighed. 'And now he is here for who knows how long. Tessa has scarcely been able to keep her temper since he arrived. What was Alejandro thinking, sending him here?'

At first, Tessa had been surprised and rather pleased to see Enrique stepping out of the longboat two weeks ago at the beach near Santa Elena. She had even received him with a warm embrace. All the way back to the hacienda, she had excitedly pressed him with questions about the family, her friends and all the things she missed. For a whole week, the cousins had got along well, but Marta felt as if she was near a powder keg about to explode. She knew this camaraderie would not last. And she was right.

One night at dinner, Enrique had revealed the true reason for his visit. He said that his father had sent him to see that Tessa found a husband, and to help her with the management of the hacienda. His father did not believe that a young, unmarried woman could carry out such onerous responsibilities. A man was needed to take control of such a large property.

Marta had nearly choked on her mouthful of wine. Risking a glance at Tessa, she saw the indignation in her eyes, her hurt expression. Tessa had carefully set down her wineglass, all her movements slow and precise as if she was striving for control.

"Enrique," she began, her voice pitched low and even. "For over a year, I have been managing quite well without a man's help. So, you are welcome to stay as long as you like, but this is my hacienda and I have the authority here."

Marta drew in another deep sigh as she recalled the scene that had ensued after Tessa's declaration. Tessa had levelled a hard stare at Enrique and for long moments, the two duelled with their eyes. He finally looked down at his wineglass, then said, "You are a woman, only fit for taking orders and making babies. It is time you learned to obey." He added some other harsh words that began a fierce quarrel.

'I should have stayed to end the argument,' Marta thought now in retrospect. 'Perhaps I could have made peace between them.' But she had thought it was not her place to get involved in a family fight. Marta sighed heavily, keenly distressed at the strife that had entered their little domain. It was as if a serpent had slithered into their small paradise. Since that night, scarcely a civil word had passed between the cousins.

Act One - Scene 2

Tessa paused on the cellar stairs. Was that laughter she heard coming from the wine cellar? Moving silently down into the darkness, she distinctly heard male voices, then more laughter. The back of her neck prickled and her stomach clenched. Who was down there? Had they discovered the secret room? She stepped swiftly down the stairs toward the wine rack where a single candle faintly lit the large area. The sight made her gasp. Enrique was lounging against the wine rack and two of her workers stood nearby with wine bottles hanging loosely from their hands. It was evident to Tessa that they were all drunk. The scent of spilled wine was heavy in the dank moistness of the cellar.

"What are you doing?!" burst from her lips before she could think.

Enrique gave her a fatuous grin and belched. "I'm giving your workers a taste of the fruit of their labours. More than you would ever do, cousin." With that, he took a swig from his own bottle while watching her through heavy-lidded eyes.

"They may have all the wine they want, but not when they are supposed to be working." She glared at the two workers who now gazed shamefacedly down at the floor. "Get back to work!" she snapped. The two men staggered and stumbled up the stairs, obviously glad to get off so easily.

"You see, Tessa, why women shouldn't own property. You can't keep your workers under control. At the first chance, they will disobey you." Enrique hiccuped and laughed. "Women are weak. They do not have the power of command. That is why I am here ...to take control of the hacienda so you will be free to marry."

"Those men only obeyed you in coming down here because they see all Spaniards as their masters. And now they are probably terrified of the punishment that might follow this little escapade. I will not discipline them. Their hangovers will be punishment enough." Her own voice sounded harsh in her ears. She was barely mastering her temper, wanting nothing more than to wipe the ugly sneer off her cousin's face. When they were children, she recalled she had boxed his ears more than once. 'And I could still do it,' she thought wryly.

"I would have had them flogged for getting drunk when they should have been working," Enrique said. "You are too lax. Who knows what they steal from you, how indolent they are when you are not watching them. From now on, I will see to it that the obreros work harder. You will see how a man runs things."

"My foreman, Señor Casillas, oversees the workers, not you. You have no authority here, Enrique. You are a guest, nothing more. And if you persist in trying to take control of my hacienda, you will no longer be welcome. I will insist you return to Spain."

To her surprise a sudden change came over his face, something like fear flashed in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by the surly, belligerent look that she knew too well. She braced herself for the inevitable clash. When it came, she was taken aback by its violence. Enrique moved toward her swiftly, a wild drunken look in his eyes. She forced herself to hold her ground.

"I have nothing, cousin, therefore I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I *will* have this hacienda and you *will* marry whom I choose. I swear it!" His face loomed near hers and the sour smell of the wine made her recoil.

"Don't fool yourself, Enrique. I know that your father did not send you here to take my land. He was trying to avoid a scandal, and probably save your life. Instead of learning from your mistakes, you persist in repeating them. You cannot return to Spain, can you? A warrant awaits you there."

Suddenly, he pulled out his sword and waved it near her throat. "If you say anything about that to anyone, I will kill you." A satisfied smirk spread over his face as Tessa flinched involuntarily from the blade. "So, you are just a weak woman after all. A little show of mastery and you back down. Very good. It is time you learned that lesson, cousin."

"You are a coward, Enrique." Tessa hissed as she stepped back, her hands balled into fists. "In a fair fight with swords..."

"Tessa!" Marta's voice stopped her from finishing the dangerous remarks that strained to leap from her lips. At that moment, Tessa wanted nothing more than a sword in her hand to show him he was not her master. Marta had saved her from making a grave mistake, a mistake which would likely have uncovered her dual identity.

Enrique sheathed his sword and sprang toward the stairs. The pounding of his footsteps echoed in the wine cellar then they were gone. For a few moments, Tessa tried to regain her self-control. It was a near thing ...she had nearly lost it. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Thank you, Marta. You arrived just in time. Did you hear him threaten to kill me?" She looked up to see the worry in Marta's eyes.

"I heard everything. You should not have told him the gossip I heard from Estella, your old servant in Madrid. You are a danger to him now that you know about the murder charge hanging over him in Spain."

Tessa shook her head. "Enrique may be a scoundrel and many other things, but I don't believe he is a murderer. I'm sure if he returned to Spain, he could clear his name. Estella said the duel was a fair fight. It was his bad luck that he chose the son of a duke to kill." She picked up the candle near the wine rack and followed Marta up the stairs to the main floor. Blowing it out, she set it on a table near the door. "I see that he cannot remain here much longer, Marta. We fight constantly and I worry about the effect on the workers, seeing us disagreeing over everything. The workers are already confused as to whose orders to follow, his or mine."

The sudden sound of hoof beats drew their attention and they rushed to the front door in time to see Enrique riding away on Lindo, Tessa's palomino. She stood for a moment in the doorway, almost paralysed with fury. A vice seemed to have clamped around her chest and she could hardly breathe or speak. Running down the steps, she accosted Carlos the groom who had just come out of the stable.

"Why did you give him my horse?" she shouted.

The unaccustomed harshness in her voice seemed to shake him. He took a step back, sudden fear in his eyes. "I did not, señorita. He took it before I could unsaddle it after your morning ride. I was just coming to call him back to give him another horse." Carlos voice broke and he swallowed several times under his doña's baleful glare.

"Bastardo!" Tessa hissed at the retreating figure as she watched the dust cloud dissipate on the horizon. "I could kill him for this." Suddenly, she turned to Carlos, meeting his wide-eyed stare. "Lo siento, Carlos. I don't blame you for what my cousin did. It was not your fault. And of course, I don't mean what I say. I am just very angry with him for taking my horse. Go back to your duties." Tessa patted his shoulder and returned to Marta who was still standing in the doorway.

"I think the Queen should teach him a lesson," Marta said glumly. Her own face was tight with anger. "His mother coddled him so much, he is impossible now. From a spoiled, willful child to a dangerous man who thinks the world owes him a living. He must go, Tessa, before something bad happens here too."

Tessa shivered despite the midday heat. Marta's predictions often came true.

Continued in Part Two of Three