Disclaimers: Fireworks owns the copyrights to the characters from the Queen of Swords. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author: Maril Swan
Rating: G
Feedback: yes, please. Your comments and suggestions help keep me inspired to continue writing these stories.

The Courting of Tessa

by Maril Swan

Part 2 of 3

Chapter 3: The Queen of the Fair

The day had dawned clear and warm, but Tessa noted with apprehension, a bank of dark clouds hovered on the horizon. Of all days to threaten rain it had to be on the Fair day. Tossing her worry aside, Tessa squeezed Marta's arm excitedly as they strolled through the milling crowds in the square. Everyone for miles around seemed to be here for the town fair. The merrymakers, including the poorest peasants, were turned out in their finest clothes and all seemed to be in a festive mood. The sights, the sounds, the smells... they reminded her of the Rambla in Barcelona with its long avenue of vendors and hawkers, and the promenading Barcelonians who ambled along its length to see and be seen. 'This is better,' Tessa thought as she glanced around the plaza. 'In Barcelona, I didn't know anyone even though many men smiled and nodded towards me. Here, I know almost everyone we pass.'

Indeed, she and Marta were greeted many times, slowing their progress toward the viewing stands that had been set up for the games. When they finally reached the wooden structure it was already nearly filled with the dons and their families. Children ran wildly around and through its framework, their screams and laughter adding to the excited din. One of the youngsters nearly collided with Tessa as she tried to climb up to an empty space beside Vera and Gaspar. She and Marta managed to wedge themselves in, and settled to wait for the games to begin.

Vera leaned toward her and laughed. "Maybe one day those will be our children, Tessa."

"We can only hope so, Vera. Someday." Tessa smiled wistfully at the uncontained energy of the children as they raced and played in the plaza. She raised her eyes to survey the rest of the square, searching. Her lips compressed with disappointment as she did not see the man she was looking for in the crowd. Perhaps he was not coming after all.

Her attention was drawn to the governor's residence where a squad of soldiers was carrying a large ornate chair down the steps and toward the stands. Behind them, Colonel Montoya walked in a stately march, resplendent in his dark uniform with its wealth of gold braid. The noise of the fair quietened somewhat as all eyes followed their progress to the viewing stand. There the soldiers halted and set the chair down on a slightly raised platform. The colonel scanned the crowds in the square then turned and bowed to the gentry seated above him on the benches. He faced the plaza again and held up his hands for silence. After a few seconds, a hush fell over the whole plaza and he began to speak.

"In Santa Helena we are truly blessed, with our good health, and with the bounty the earth provides, by the grace of God." He smiled as many heads bowed and several crossed themselves. "Today we celebrate our good fortune with this, the first of our town fairs. May this occasion be repeated over the years, and may this Fair be memorable and pleasurable for all." Montoya smiled with satisfaction at the importance of his part in this special fiesta. It was his idea, and from what he could see it was turning out to be a resounding success. He had modelled this Fair on the village fairs he had seen in England, pagan festivals though they might have been. One more thing needed to be done to get this day off to a perfect start.

"A day like this needs to have a representative of the people. The Fair needs a queen." Montoya turned again to the stands and glanced among the young girls giggling behind their fans as his eyes lit upon them. His gaze halted on one young woman who was looking elsewhere as if searching for someone. Her companion nudged her and she started to see the colonel staring at her. "I have chosen ...Maria Theresa Alvarado to be Queen of the Fair." A few disappointed groans mixed with the spontaneous applause that accompanied his announcement.

For a second Tessa was too taken aback to move then she felt a blush of pleasure rising in her cheeks. The warmth seemed to spread all through her as she listened to the approval and encouragement of the people around her. She arose and began to make her way down to the ground. A radiant smile spread over her face as Colonel Montoya took her hand and led her to his magisterial chair. He gave a courtly bow as she seated herself. The crowds in the stands and in the plaza roared with delight.

Montoya held his hands up for silence again. "It is the duty of the Queen of the Fair to open the games and preside over the giving of the prizes." He stepped back as Tessa stood up.

She gazed into the shining faces of the gathered crowd and smiled. "Let the games begin," she said in a loud, clear voice, recalling the games of Olympus from her classical studies. 'At least I remembered that much,' she thought in amusement. The day was turning out far better than she had expected except for two clouds on her horizon – the one that threatened rain and the one which his non-appearance portended. 'I won't let him spoil my day,' Tessa decided staunchly as the first of the games was being organized in the square.

As the morning moved toward midday, Tessa fulfilled her duties as Queen, handing out a silver reale to the winners of the foot races, wrestling matches, tug-of-war, and other games. The sun stood at its zenith when Montoya stepped forward and announced a break in the games for food and relaxation.

"The ladies may take advantage of my residence to refresh themselves," he said delicately, gesturing toward his villa. "And the gentlemen may avail themselves of the Rose Courtyard to smoke their cigars and enjoy their wine. The games will resume at two o'clock."

As Montoya strode toward the courtyard accompanied by some of the dons, Tessa finally saw the man she had been waiting for. He was too far away to hail him without looking foolish but he saw her and waved as Montoya took him by the arm, leading him through the iron gate into the courtyard.

Vera sidled up beside her and said, "Wasn't that Señor de Sallas with the colonel? We haven't seen him in town for over a week."

"Señor de Sallas told me he had to go to Monterrey on some business. He said he would be back in time for the Fair." Tessa couldn't restrain her smile. Arturo was certainly the handsomest man she had ever seen. And those eyes, with their heat and promise of passion. Her knees felt weak and she felt flushed just thinking about it. In spite of the cloud bank now sliding dangerously close across the sky, Tessa's spirits rose and she laughed with delight. "This is such a wonderful day, Vera. Nothing can spoil it for me." Behind her, she heard Marta mutter something in Rom, and recognised her invocation against tempting Fate. Tessa laughed again and followed the other women into Montoya's residence.

********

Shadows were stretching across the plaza as Tessa handed out the last prize of the games. Though tired, she was exhilarated by the day's events. The young man smiled shyly and bowed as he accepted the silver reale from her. A cheer rose up from the crowd as he held it aloft and charged amongst them with many a hand pounding him on the back in congratulations. From the corner of her eye, she spied Arturo talking with Montoya. The colonel grinned and began nodding vigorously. Tessa frowned slightly and wondered what they seemed to be planning. She didn't have long to wait. Arturo ran up the steps into the governor's residence and went inside.

Montoya strode in front of the viewing stand and said, "The games are officially ended, but Señor de Sallas has offered one more contest." He gestured to Arturo who had returned with two guarded epees. "A fencing match to anyone who wishes to challenge him." The crowd murmured excitedly as Arturo stood beside the colonel and waited for an opponent to declare himself. A rustle started at the back of the gathering as Grisham elbowed his way through.

He took one of the epees in his hand and hefted it. "A girl's weapon," he declared with a laugh, whipping it around. The crowd laughed with him. "But *I'll* fight you with this little pig-sticker."

Tessa hid her smile with her fan as she watched the pained expression flash across Montoya's face. 'This should be interesting,' she thought as Grisham swaggered around Arturo, flexing the sword disdainfully.

Montoya spoke again. "The prize is a gold reale to the winner."

Arturo fixed his languorous dark eyes on Tessa, a sly smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. "I will donate my prize to the Church if I may have something more precious in exchange." He paused dramatically, then added, "A kiss from the Queen."

Laughter, cheers and whistles accompanied this declaration, and Tessa knew her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Yet, she was thrilled. She stood up and said, "I agree to the exchange. I would not want to deprive the Church of your generous donation." A loud roar of approval came from the crowd as she sat down.

The colonel took a sabre from one of the soldiers and drew a large circle in the dirt with it. "The audience must stay behind this line for their own safety," he said. "And the combatants must stay inside. If you step outside the line, the match is forfeit. I will referee the contest. The match ends with first blood, that is, a touch on the opponent's clothing or person. The blades are guarded but can still be dangerous. May the better opponent emerge victorious."

Montoya stood aside from the two fencers. Arturo had taken off his jacket and rolled up one sleeve of his loose-fitting white blouse, revealing a well-muscled forearm. He pulled on a glove and then held his weapon at the ready while Grisham divested himself of his tunic. Underneath he wore a white shirt which he unbuttoned half-way, baring his chest. When they seemed ready, Montoya said, "En garde," and the fencers touched swords. Upon "Engage", the match began.

The whine and flash of the epee in Arturo's hand was almost too rapid to follow. Suddenly, Grisham yelped in pain as a red welt began to form on his neck. He threw down the sword and started toward Arturo, only to be checked by Montoya. "The match is over, Grisham. Step outside the ring. Now!" he added more forcefully, seeing the captain hesitate. Grisham turned and pushed back through the crowd.

"And now I will claim my prize," Arturo said as he started toward Tessa.

"Not just yet," Montoya interjected with a restraining hand. "I challenge you." The colonel's grey eyes sparkled with the light of battle as he picked up the epee that Grisham had thrown down. "This is a game for gentlemen," he added. He unbuttoned his jacket and handed it to a soldier, then rolled up the right sleeve of his shirt. The fluid muscles of his arm rippled as he held the weapon and tested its flex and balance. Satisfied, he said, "We need a referee."

Tessa stood up and joined them in the ring. "I will referee since I have the most to lose," she laughed. "Now what was that you said, Colonel? Oh yes. En Garde." She moved out of the way as the two men touched swords, their eyes locked as they waited for the word to start the match. Tessa felt there more involved in this contest that just a kiss. "Engage," she said, stepping outside the ring.

This time the fencing match more like a ballet, each fencer agilely advancing and retreating, circling, parrying, thrusting. The epees flashed like fire in the setting sun as the whine and clang of steel on steel continued for several minutes. Suddenly, Montoya dropped his weapon and grasped his forearm. A thin trickle of blood broke the surface of his skin.

Tessa pulled her handkerchief from her reticule and offered it to the colonel. As he took it, he nodded gratefully and wrapped the cloth around the wound. His eyes were glittering with barely contained rage as they encountered hers. She had met that look before and under similar circumstances, she thought, stifling a smile.

Montoya picked up his sword and saluted Arturo. "My congratulations on your victory, Señor de Sallas. Unless we have another challenger, you may claim your prize."

Arturo bowed humbly. "It was a lucky stroke, Colonel. You are the most worthy opponent I have ever encountered." He saluted the colonel with the epee and lowered it.

Tessa moved toward Arturo, preparing to give him his victory kiss, when a voice nearby called out, "Is it too late to enter the challenge?"

The crowd parted for Doctor Helm as he progressed toward the ring. He was wearing a long wrinkled duster and a battered old wide-brimmed hat. His face was coated with sweat and grime as if he had ridden from a distance. Tessa could see someone holding the reins of the doctor's horse at the periphery of the crowd. Her heart was doing a strange flip-flop as she watched him coming near. 'What is he doing?' she wondered. 'Didn't he see the beating that Montoya and Grisham took? Surely, he can't think he's a match for Arturo. I'd be hard pressed to beat him myself,' she conceded.

When he reached the ring, Helm said, "If you'll give me a minute to freshen up, I'll take up the gauntlet for the lady." He cracked a wide grin at Tessa, then turned back to Arturo. "Con permisso, señor?" he added civilly. The remarks were belied by the mocking expression in his eyes as they locked onto Arturo's.

"Of course. I will take on all comers, for the prize is worthy of any effort." Arturo flourished a courtly bow in Tessa's direction to which she nodded regally with a warm smile.

While Tessa returned to the magisterial seat, Helm broke through the crowd and went to the town fountain. He took off the coat and hat, handing them to the nearest person. He splashed water over his face and hair, shaking the excess off like a playful animal. Then he started back to where his adversary waited, noting the look of tolerant amusement on Arturo's face.

"Let us get this over with, Doctor," Arturo said disdainfully. "It is rude to keep a lady waiting."

Montoya handed Helm the epee and stepped out of the way of the fencers. As he said, "Engage," the combatants launched fiercely at each other. The colonel's eyebrows raised as he watched the doctor skilfully parrying and resisting all the traps Arturo was setting. In less than three minutes, a sword arced above the heads of the crowd and an astonished Arturo stood, dumfounded and empty-handed. A wide smile opened across Montoya's lips as he announced, "The winner of the prize is ...Doctor Helm." A roar of cheering arose and hats flew into the air as the crowd seemed beside itself with ecstasy. It seemed a new hero had arisen in their midst. Worthy of their Queen.

He was instantly surrounded by a crowd, shaking his hand and clapping his back as he tried to wade through to Tessa. She seemed rooted to the spot as he made his way to her.

He tried to read her expression as he finally stood before her. She seemed embarrassed, a little frightened and then she smiled. He felt the blood creeping into his cheeks as he waited uncertainly, not sure who should initiate the kiss. She moved closer, taking his face into her hands, and placed her lips on his. He closed his eyes, feeling the earth rocking and spinning as he touched her lips, their softness, their promise. He felt like he was floating, and then he was, as some men in the crowd lifted him onto their shoulders and carried him away to the cantina to celebrate his victory.

He looked back and she was gone. The sky had blackened and the clouds had opened up as a deluge of rain hit the dusty plaza like fluid bullets. In seconds, everyone had run for shelter, and the cantina was jammed. Helm was set down by the railing. He gazed out through the silver veil of rain upon the muddy street, wondering where she had gone. Wondering why he felt this was not yet finished.

Chapter 4: Be Careful What You Wish For

She watched the cheering crowd carry him away, the feel of his lips still warm and pulsing on her own. There was thundering in her ears. Was that her heart? No, it was real thunder. Tessa looked up just as the black cloud hanging over the pueblo opened up to discharge huge wet drops that stung her face. A coat was suddenly flung over her head and she felt herself being moved briskly toward the church.

Though its shelter was only steps away, Tessa's skirt was soaked by the time they hurled themselves through the heavy doors into the church's dim interior. Others had the same idea and soon the pews and aisles were filled with those seeking sanctuary from the sudden downpour. As the crowd milled around the church, the odour of wet clothing mingled with the scent of beeswax and incense. The candles danced each time the door opened to admit a gust of wind and a soaked refugee from the storm.

Pulling the coat off her head, she looked into Arturo's smiling face. His dark hair curled wetly over his brow, and streams of water ran down his cheeks. He didn't seem to notice. His gaze was fixed on her so intently she had to look away. She saw Marta moving sedately to the front of the church. Tessa watched her light a candle and wondered vaguely what the Gypsy woman was praying for.

She could still feel his eyes upon her, their heat seemed to burn her, making her too warm in spite of the coolness of her damp clothes. 'How can this be?' she thought in consternation. 'How can I be so attracted to two men – two men who are so utterly different? I must have the soul of a harlot – fickle and undeserving of love.'

She felt Arturo pick up her hand and squeeze it gently to recapture her attention. With his thumb, he stroked her palm slowly, then lifted her hand to his lips. She snatched it away as Marta turned and came back down the aisle toward them. He was too close, too distracting. She wanted him to go somewhere else, give her space to think, but they were trapped by the rain. The drumming on the church roof was so loud, it drowned out the murmurs of conversation flowing through the crowd.

Marta stopped behind the pew they were sitting in, and remained like a sentinel. She noted the high colour on Tessa's cheeks and the anxious look in her eyes.

Tessa turned to Marta. "Isn't it strange how we have prayed for weeks for rain, and then we get it today, when we don't want it?" Tessa's voice sounded breathless, unnaturally rushed.

"Sometimes we do get what we think we want, only it may come in a form we don't expect," Marta answered cryptically. She touched Tessa's shoulder affectionately then went to the church door and opened it slightly. The rain, driven by the wind, swept like a curtain through the pueblo. The street was a mire of wide puddles and running streams. She inhaled the scent of the warm earth receiving its life-giving water – a perfume all too rare in this part of the world, she thought.

Marta sighed. They would have find a place to stay in town tonight. Even if the rain stopped soon, the roads would be too muddy to drive the wagon over. She returned to find the padre had come in from the sacristy. His wet cassock hung limply on his lean frame, and created pools on water on the tiled floor.

"The holy sisters have offered their convent to shelter any women who are unable to reach their homes tonight," the priest said over the din in the church. "The men may stay in here. We have been able to save some of the fiesta foods and will bring it to you." With that he went back through the side door.

"You may have my room at the hotel," Arturo offered. "Of course," he added, looking over his shoulder at Marta, "I will find other accommodation for the night."

As Tessa was about to speak, Marta gripped her shoulder, and answered, "That is most kind of you, Señor de Sallas, but I must consider Tessa's reputation. What would people say if they knew she spent the night in your room, even if you were not in it? We must decline your offer." She relaxed her grip to a more gentle hold, and added, "We will avail ourselves of the convent for tonight. Now, if you will excuse us, we should go there before it gets too dark."

Marta could see the resentment burning in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Who is this lowborn Gypsy who takes such liberties with her mistress? 'If ever, ...God forbid, ...he chances to marry Tessa, the first thing he will do is get rid of me,' she thought with wry amusement. How unlike her relationship with Doctor Helm – a friendship of equals. Despite the doctor's noble birth, he seemed to hold no prejudices against those beneath him in class.

Tessa arose and stepped out into the aisle, following Marta as she opened the door into the fury of the storm. They raced across the muddy street to the small convent. The sisters had a fire in the fireplace and some old clothes for the women to wear while their own were drying. They were fed a frugal meal and then shown to a tiny cell for the night. The room was slightly larger than a closet and the bed scarcely wide enough for one.

Marta offered to sleep on the floor, and after a long tiresome argument, Tessa finally gave in. She was too dispirited to exert herself against Marta's formidable will tonight. She gave Marta the blankets to lie on. As Tessa lay on the hard cot, she listened to the rain pounding on the tiles above her.

It was peaceful, just lying there, drifting away in the safety of the convent. "Maybe this is where I belong," Tessa whispered, not sure Marta was still awake. "Perhaps I should have become a nun. Then I would not have all these problems tormenting me day and night."

A hearty chuckle in the darkness made her aware that Marta had heard. "I cannot think of anyone less nun-like than you, Tessita. Except for me," she added with another laugh.

The idea of Marta as a nun did not strike Tessa as very odd. She had always seemed very spiritual, mystical even, and it was not a great leap to imagine her dedicating her life to the service of some deity. Tessa had never been entirely sure of Marta's Christianity. It sometimes seemed like a cloak she wore to hide her true religious loyalty. 'But to what divine being?' Tessa wondered. 'To one or to several?' She did not know. Every effort she had made over the years to penetrate that mystery had met with a jibe or silence. The woman she had known since childhood remained an enigma that she would probably never solve. Tessa yawned, her mind too tired to grapple with this problem tonight.

**********

The next morning, Tessa was helping Marta dry the wagon so they could return home when Vera came toward them, lifting her skirts over the muddy rutted street.

"Hola, como estas?" she hailed gaily as she got close enough. "Where did you spend the night? Colonel Montoya gave Gaspar and me a room in his villa. Very comfortable. He is such a gentleman."

Tessa exchanged a tolerant look with Marta, then smiled at Vera. "The holy sisters gave us shelter in the convent," Tessa replied, as she wrung out a cloth and continued to wipe down the leather bench.

Vera's hand flew to her mouth. "You had to stay in the convent, on those hard cots? How horrible for you!"

"It wasn't so bad, Vera," Tessa said, though she did move a bit stiffly.

"Speak for yourself," Marta added in an undertone. "I felt a lizard crawl across me sometime in the night. At least, I hope that is what it was."

The pretty blonde woman moved closer to Tessa and said, "I have a secret. Do you want to know it?"

Marta picked up a cloth and went to the other side of the wagon. Tessa leaned closer to Vera, and said, "Of course, Vera. You know I can keep a secret."

Vera preened self-importantly, holding back her information with a sense of dramatic moment. "Well, Capitan Grisham told me that a gold shipment made it to Monterrey last week." She waited to see the reaction on Tessa's face and was not disappointed. Tessa was astonished. "Do you want to know how it was done?" She could see her listener was all attention and continued. "Señor de Sallas carried it himself ...in his saddlebags. Who would ever have suspected he was a courier for the Spanish Crown? One of the soldiers went with him, disguised as his servant. Is that not very clever of our colonel?"

Tessa was dumbfounded, at a loss for words for several seconds. "Yes, Vera. That is a truly amazing ruse. Colonel Montoya is a man not to be underestimated." Her mind was in a whirl. So that is what the business in Monterrey was – delivering their tax money to the government coffers. Her stomach seemed to be tied in a knot as she knew what she must do. But could she do it?

The two women chatted for a few minutes more, then Don Gaspar drew up alongside them in his buggy. "Vera," he called affectionately, "Let us go home now, my petal." He turned his affable gaze to Tessa. "Buenos dias, Maria Theresa. You made a lovely queen yesterday. In spite of the rain, it was a wonderful day. Truly memorable. Hasta luego," he added after Vera was comfortably seated next to him. He snapped the whip over the horses and they drove off.

**********

Helm laid a clean cloth on the table then placed his shiny instruments upon it. A sense of pride urged its way through his mind as he contemplated these fine British medical tools, the best money could buy. But he hadn't paid for them, not in cash anyway. They had been given to him by a dying medical officer in the Peninsular War. He recalled the man's face as he forced his precious instrument case into Helm's hands. 'Captain Hardy,' Helm thought, remembering his name. How could he forget? It was this singular event that had changed the course of his life. The captain had, with his dying breath, begged him to keep his medical kit and use it. "You're a good man, Helm. You have the heart of a doctor. You're not a killer, not like the others. Get out of it while you can still call your soul your own."

He glanced at the old leather case with the powder burns scarring its surface. The doctor had been holding it when he was hit by the canister spray from a cannon. He had died quickly, but he had left a legacy. One doctor died, another took up his cause. 'As good a reason as any to become a doctor,' Helm mused with an ironic twist of his thin lips.

He was about to check the supply cupboard when his door opened and Helm turned with a wry smile already starting to crease his face. But it was not who he expected. She never knocked on his door but it had long since ceased to annoy him. He merely shrugged it off as one of her less endearing quirks. This time Colonel Montoya pushed through his door and walked in uninvited. Helm's smile faded abruptly. The colonel's visits always brought trouble in their wake.

"Buenos dias, Colonel. What can I do for you today?"

The grey eyes regarded him coolly. The colonel glanced at the array of instruments and picked one up, admiring the fine workmanship. Helm felt his temper beginning to rise watching Montoya casually handling his things. At length, Montoya set the scalpel down and turned with a smile.

"I had assumed you knew how to handle sharp instruments, Doctor, but never did I expect they would include a sword, particularly an epee. It is a gentleman's weapon. I had thought fisticuffs was more your style of duelling." He seemed to be waiting for that barb to sink in.

Helm clenched his jaw firmly against the retort that tried to escape. 'Let him play his little games if it amuses him,' he thought. "Did you want something in particular, Colonel, or did you just come in here to bait me into an argument?"

"Actually, I am curious. Where did you learn to fence like that?"

"Our contract, Montoya, doesn't include your sticking your nose into my business, or my past. Now, if you will excuse me, I will have patients arriving soon." Helm brushed past the colonel and opened the supply cabinet, ostensibly to check on his inventory.

Imperturbably, Montoya leaned against the door, and continued to study him. Finally, the colonel said, "I feel I should warn you, Doctor, about the Spanish code of honour where our women are concerned. We protect our women's virtue and look askance upon any man who trifles with the affections of a woman or impugns her honour. Such a man may find himself called upon to defend himself in a duel. To seem to be courting a lady then to cast her aside would be deemed an insult by any red-blooded Spaniard. I myself might be moved to defend the lady's reputation in such a case. Do you understand me, Doctor Helm?"

"No, Colonel. I don't know what the devil you are talking about. I'm not courting anyone and even if I was, it's still none of your business. Now if you will please allow me to get back to work..." Helm pushed the colonel off his door and opened it, waiting for Montoya to take the hint.

Montoya stepped outside and said, "Some might think your duel yesterday with Señor de Sallas implies that you are vying with him for the lady's favour, perhaps even courting her. Be careful of appearances, Doctor. Some might also suggest that you have formed an alliance with the Queen of Swords. The appearance of wrongdoing is sometimes as dangerous as the actual crime."

"It seems to be enough in this town to get yourself hanged," Helm replied brusquely as he shut the door. He took several deep breaths to regain his self-control. 'Damn the man. He can get under my skin faster than anybody I know. Well, almost anybody,' he smiled to himself, recalling how Tessa Alvarado could raise his temper near the boiling point with only a few words or a look.

He tried to shake off the colonel's warning as nonsense but it wouldn't go away. Why did he challenge de Sallas? Was it the man's overbearing arrogance? His assumption that he had Tessa where he wanted her, in the palm of his hand? Helm had to finally admit that Montoya might be right. If he continued to interfere it would cause talk, probably already was. And what did the señorita think of all this?

Helm had to chuckle over her indignation after the dinner last week. He had certainly put a spoke into de Sallas' wheel that night! He had not seen her again until yesterday at the fair. She didn't seem to harbour any ill will toward him. Quite the contrary, he thought, warming as he recalled that kiss. Could she care that much for de Sallas and kiss him with such tenderness or was he imagining things? 'I'll just have to be more careful from now on,' he decided. 'I wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression of my intentions.' What were his intentions? he wondered. Honourable, certainly. He held her in the highest regard ...well usually.

Guiltily, he thought of the Queen. Was he being unfaithful to her? So far, all he was doing was trying to save a guileless girl from throwing herself away on a gigolo, a fortune-hunter. Wasn't that a worthy thing to do? Surely, her Majesty could not object to his doing what she also did, protecting the innocent. Except he had no intentions of killing de Sallas, only showing him up as the cad he was.

'Next time she visits, I'll tell her all about this little adventure. I'm sure she will laugh at the silliness of it. She has more pressing matters on her mind than romance.' That last thought gave him a pang as he realised he had not seen her for nearly a month. Things had been quiet in the pueblo. No public executions had been scheduled, no reason for her to come into the town recently at all. He had heard about her waylaying Montoya's tax collectors a few weeks back and then nothing. Was she still at large? If anything had happened to her, he would have heard. He sighed. There was no way he knew of to send a message to her, or to meet her secretly anywhere. It was too dangerous for them both.

'What kind of a love affair is that when you never see each other?' He thought of the many poems he had written over the last few months, pouring out his soul into the words, words that she would never see. He burnt all the pages as soon as they were written. Too dangerous if they should fall into the wrong hands. He knew Montoya would not scruple at searching his rooms, as he undoubtedly must have many times by now.

Helm began to pace his office, wishing a patient would come in to distract him from these thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be leading somewhere he feared to go. Unbidden and unwelcome, Tessa's image rose in his mind's eye as she had appeared yesterday. The Queen of the Fair. Another Queen, this one a real woman without a mask. She had worn a dark blue satin gown, her bare shoulders covered by a black lace shawl and her dark hair neatly tucked behind her neck. She had looked regal. All that she needed was a crown.

Finally, his door opened and he turned, relieved, only to find the object of his thoughts standing in the doorway.

Concluded in Part 3