Part 107 (1/2)

I cannot say I fell in love with Ana Franca. My heart was forever pledged to another. But at the very least I fell hopelessly in l.u.s.t with her. I could well understand why she would be a count's mistress. Despite her humble beginnings, she had nothing of the working cla.s.s about her. At our first meeting, she set down the terms of our relations.h.i.+p.

”Mateo describes you as a colonial b.u.mpkin, and your sole experience is with the crudity of New Spain. We see these unrefined oafs all the time. They come off a s.h.i.+p with their pockets full of gold and the belief that newfound wealth is a subst.i.tute for breeding. They are met with sardonic amus.e.m.e.nt and outright contempt.”

”And how does one acquire the countenance of culture?”

”One is a gentleman when one thinks like a gentleman.”

Shades of the Healer. Could she tell I was not a gentleman by my smell?

”You have the clothes of a gentleman. You are not particularly handsome, but the scar from your pirate battles bequeaths boldness to your features. But remove the clothes, and one knows you are not a gentleman.”

The story I had concocted had been a romantic one-a duel for a lady's charms. But Mateo disliked the duel story because other men might view it as a challenge, in his eyes, a self-p.r.o.nounced death sentence for one of my sword skills. A fight with French pirates had the right measure of dash, without threatening the manliness of others.

The face that bore the pirate's scar was a stranger to me. From the time I first started growing hair on my face, I had had a beard. But a beard was no longer a disguise. Most of my sins had been committed with facial hair. Nor did I need to conceal the mine slave brand because Mateo had cleverly-and painfully-disguised it. Now a colorfully scarred, clean-shaven stranger stared back at me in a mirror.

The fas.h.i.+on of the New World had been long hair, but men in Spain for the past several years had been wearing their hair short. The short hair made me even more of a stranger to myself. I felt confident I could stroll through the dungeon of the Holy Office in the City of Mexico without being recognized.

”Dona Ana, what cure is there for this coa.r.s.eness of soul?” I asked her.

”For you, there is no cure. Look at your hands. They are rough and hardened, not at all the fine, soft hands of a true gentleman. I suspect your feet are harder than your hands, and your arms and chest. Common laborers, not gentlemen, have such unsightly muscles. Your soldierly past might explain some of that, but not an army of defects.”

”What else am I doing wrong?”

”Everything! You lack the cold-blooded arrogance of one who has never struggled. You show no contempt toward the lower cla.s.ses, whom G.o.d has denied the privileges of exalted birth. G.o.d prescribes a place for all of us. Quality people are born to rule. Common people are born to serve. Your most obvious defect is that you only act like a gentleman. One cannot play the role. You must think like a gentleman. If you have to act, then your roots will constantly intrude and people will see through the pretense.”

”Tell this colonial b.u.mpkin one mistake I've made,” I demanded hotly. ”Tell me what I've done to give you license to call me coa.r.s.e and unrefined.”

She sighed. ”Cristo, where should I begin? A moment ago my maid brought you a cup of coffee.”

I shrugged. ”All right. Did I spill it down my chin? Stir it with my finger?”

”You thanked her.”

”Never! I never spoke a word to her!”

”You thanked her with your eyes and a smile.”

”What nonsense is this?”

”A person of quality would never show appreciation to a servant. No true gentleman would even acknowledge she existed, unless of course they were interested in exploiting her s.e.xually. Then they would leer at her and perhaps comment on her feminine endowments.”

Ayyo. When I thought about it, I knew she was correct.

”And other than my courtesy toward servants?”

”Your lack of hubris. Have you seen Mateo enter a room? He enters a fine salon as if it were a pigsty, and he was dirtying his boots in it. When you entered my salon, you looked on it admiringly.”

”Ah, but Mateo is older and wiser than me and has had much more practice playing the gentleman.”

”Mateo does not have to play the gentleman; he was born one.”