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Entry No. 4

But the clothing of the night, with its dark seams and black vesture, could not keep within its cloak the entirety of the secrets it held. Such an irony that a time for rest could be a time of torment for some – the stars being silent witnesses, keeping vigil, providing hope that there would be no rain on the break of dawn.

The garden within her father’s house became their refuge, safe from the prying eyes of men. Amelia would wait for him by her window, discreetly let him in, and then lead him to the garden that was their lonesome. She would check if the governess was fast asleep while he waited at a corner – silent, discerning, and alert at any movement from the entrance door.

Amelia was more beautiful than the previous nights of their tryst. With her high-bridged nose and skin as pale as the moonlight, she could illuminate any room with her knowing smile. Her blue eyes and straight black hair, a heart-shaped face with a delicate chin – in the eyes of Francisco, nothing could be more gentle, a breath of fresh air he would volunteer to be engulfed to.

On his part, when Francisco was young, the midwife predicted that his handsome face and slightly tanned skin would bring him far. But she also warned that some people are afraid of such beauty, like those of butterflies whose wings are said to cause blindness.

Until the first crow of the rooster in the morning, Francisco and Amelia would talk and stare at each other, each with deep admiration and interest. The flowers and plants around them, lit up by a single candle that Francisco made, were the same colors as the conversations they had. Amelia would run her hands on his wavy hair while he rested on her lap. They would hold hands, tighter each time they suppress a muffled laugh. She found out that the scars on his arms were caused by melted wax spilled one time when he was eight years old. With a loving gesture, she held that arm and rubbed it with her cheeks.

“Francisco, I’m beginning to be afraid,” Amelia whispered.

“What are you afraid of?” Francisco asked.

“I think the governess is beginning to get suspicious,” she replied.

“That’s what you said last week, when you asked me to stop bringing you roses,” he said, smiling.

“Well, yes. But this time it’s different. I don’t know. There’s just a fear within me that I can’t put out. I don’t know what it is but it’s there.”

Amelia stood up and continued. “I know you might find it stupid but it’s just there. Something I could not fathom, and it’s making me nervous.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of my dear,” he tried to calm her fear. “I don’t think the governess would say anything to your father. With him gone, you still are the master of the house. In the first place, who do you think would your father believe?”

“Don’t you see,” she suddenly said. “Everything is bound to be revealed. I’m not afraid of the wrath of my father. I’m more afraid I would never see you.”

Francisco gave a soft laugh. “No one could stop me from seeing you. I may be poor but I’m not a coward. I would tell my father about us and ask him to speak to your Papa.”

He went beside Amelia and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t ever be afraid. When your father comes home today, tell him about me so I could come and visit you anytime. I promise to work hard for us. With you by my side, I know I could become whatever I want to be.”

The next moment was silence, with a thousand words it spoke. It was as if they danced on a silent tune played by the atmosphere of night – the warm embrace, the look upon their eyes – and when their lips had touched, both of them handed one another courage. They say that even if the future may be bleak, no amount of darkness could stop the radiance of a couple in love.

“Amelia, will you marry me?”

Tears slowly fell down her face. “Would you really want to marry me?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Oh Francisco, I would be very happy to be your wife.”

He almost shouted out of joy. Like a child given a precious gift, he glowed like the sun. “Please do tell your father of our plans. Today would be the beginning of a wonderful journey for both of us. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” said Amelia.

Just then, the first crow of the morning was heard. Francisco left Amelia; both of them flooded with joy, with the promise of the coming dawn. They agreed that arrangements within their families would be made that day. Nothing could go wrong.

That morning, Amelia’s father arrived from Madrid. He brought with him lavish gifts for Amelia; clothes of the finest thread, silk and jewelry, adornments each of high value.

“Papa is in a good mood,” she thought. “Thank God. Wait ‘til he hears the news.”

While they were having coffee, she decided to tell him of her plan to marry Francisco. Her father’s smile suddenly turned into a frown and slapped her pretty face. It turned out that the gifts he brought were from a high ranking public official that he had arranged to be wed to Amelia.