The following day we flew north-east to the even more ancient site of Teotihuacan, built by an earlier civilization which the Aztecs still revered. It had once been a great cultural centre, but now its great temple-pyramids stood dusty and deserted. Extepan had obviously arranged for all other tourists to be turned away that day.
I felt more comfortable here than in the temple precinct. It was more spacious, more securely dead and historic; and, of course, we had come during daylight.
This time I did agree to accompany Extepan to the top of the enormous Pyramid of the Sun. We zig-zagged slowly up the great stone steps under the fierce morning heat, a climb I found exhausting and terrifying. It was hard to get my breath in the thin air, and I had to pause frequently on the vertiginous terraces.
Finally we reached the top and looked out over a dry landscape already blurred with heat-haze. My heart was still pounding from the climb.
Presently Extepan said, ‘I’ve enjoyed these days we have had together, Catherine. Alas, tomorrow I must return to my duties.’
There had been no mention of me returning to London, but I thought perhaps he was suggesting that the time had come. I said as much.
‘No, no,’ he insisted, ‘there’s no need for you to go. I have to leave Tenochtitlan, but I hope to be gone only a short time. My father wishes me to visit Precious Cloud’s family and pay my respects to her father. Understandably, he is grieved at her death, and we may have lost the confidence of his peoples. This could have repercussions for our northern frontier.’
I sensed he was trying to say something else. On an instinct, I said, ‘Do you want me to go with you?’
He took my hands in his, smiling and shaking his head. ‘No As much as I would like that, it would not be appropriate.’ He paused. ‘But there is another proposal I would like to make to you.’
I already knew what he was going to say.
‘I ask you again to consider becoming my wife.’
I was still giddy from the climb, still drained and powerless, wanting, yet not wanting, to turn away from him.
‘This hardly seems the time…’
‘It’s just the right time, Catherine. My father wants me married, and Cuauhtemoc needs a mother. But those aren’t the main reasons. You were always my first choice.’
‘Because I’m Richard’s sister?’
‘Of course not. You know it’s not that.’
He held my hands tightly. I was frantically searching my mind for evasions, excuses.
‘What about Mia?’
‘Mia?’
‘She’s been at your side for years. She’s caring for Cuauhtemoc. You’ve always been close. I think she would be more than happy to marry you.’
‘It wouldn’t be possible, even if I wanted it.’
‘Why not?’
‘She’s not from the nobility. It wouldn’t be acceptable to our people.’
‘Surely it’s in Motecuhzoma’s power to ennoble her? Some of his ancestors married the daughters of slaves and commoners, didn’t they?’
‘Not as their principal wives. And I do not intend to take more than one.’
‘You’d prefer to keep her as your mistress, perhaps?’
This was cheap of me, I knew. Extepan looked hurt rather than angry.
‘You must be very fond of her,’ I said hastily. ‘You’ve kept her in your household for so long.’
‘You seem equally attached to Bevan.’
‘Bevan?’
‘Don’t you think there have not been rumours? He, the only member of your household staff? With his own door to your apartments? The private conversations you always have?’
It was a measure of my naïveté that I had never considered this.
‘That’s ridiculous,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing like that between us.
‘I’m prepared to believe you,’ he replied. ‘Perhaps you will also allow me the same courtesy of believing that I have never wanted Mia as my wife. I have asked you. For the second time.’
In the distant fields beyond the ruins, farmers were harvesting maguey plants, just as Mexicans had done for centuries, long before Europeans discovered the New World. Some facts of life were unchanging, inescapable.
‘If you refuse me this time,’ Extepan said calmly, ‘I shall never ask you again. But you must believe that it is you, and not your status, that I want.’
‘Am I to take it that you’ve discussed this with your father?’
‘I told him I was intending to ask you again. That was one of the reasons why he wanted to meet you. He likes you, Catherine. He approves of you. He’s given my proposal his blessing.’
My mind was reeling. Extepan was at his most earnest, and he would not let go of my hands. Atop the pyramid we were isolated, and I knew he had chosen his moment very carefully, giving me no easy opportunity for physical escape. But I was determined to balk him.
‘It would hardly go well for you with Matogee if you arrived there newly betrothed.’
He merely held me closer. ‘That is why it would have to remain secret until my negotiations were complete. But I needed to ask you now, before I went. I need an answer to take away with me, Catherine, for better or worse.’
A breeze had sprung up, bringing some respite to the relentless midday heat. All around me were dust and ruins and hazy mountains. I felt as if much of my former life had been stripped away, that I stood there without obligations or burdens except those I chose myself. It seemed to me then that I had grown towards Extepan, that perhaps our lives had been on this very collision course ever since we first met.
Looking into his eyes, I said, ‘Very well.’
It was a second before he said, ‘Is that an answer? Are you saying yes?’
‘On one condition. No, two.’
‘Tell me what they are.’
‘I’d like Victoria to be freed from exile.’
He let his hands fall from mine.
‘I can’t promise that.’
‘I’d accept it as a possibility. As something you’d try to achieve.’
His eyes were narrowed against the glare of the sun. ‘If it’s possible, I’ll do what I can. But this cannot be a condition of our betrothal.’
He was quietly adamant. Suddenly I was anxious that, if I pressed him, he might easily withdraw his proposal altogether. How swiftly the tables were turned.
‘That’s all I ask,’ I said.
‘What else? You mentioned two conditions.’
Again I hesitated. Could I risk it? I had no choice. If we were to be married, I wanted no secrets between us.
I stepped back, giving myself space. Then I proceeded to tell him about my encounter with Zacatlatoa on the day of Richard’s wedding and our investigation of the Quetzalcoatl structure in Crystal Palace Park. I omitted nothing except for Bevan’s indirect involvement in the affair.
I couldn’t tell whether he was shocked or already suspected I had links with anti-Aztec forces: his expression gave away nothing. I told him precisely what I had seen and felt inside the building, and then finally I said, ‘I’d like to know what it is. What it’s for.’
There was another long silence, but he did not take his eyes off my face. At last he said, ‘You have my word of honour that when we are married, I’ll tell you everything about it. I swear it. When we’re married. But not before.’
Once again I felt he had gained the upper hand. I had asked for information, and he had given me a promise. Was this enough? Perhaps it was. Perhaps it was unreasonable of me to expect more, given his position and my past record as an opponent of Aztec power. Perhaps he still mistrusted me a little. Perhaps he was right to do so.
‘Very well,’ I said again. ‘I accept your proposal and also your promise.’
He looked almost startled, as if he hadn’t really believed I would ever say yes. He smiled, then raised my hands and touched my knuckles to his lips. Finally he leaned forward and kissed me once, very delicately, on the cheek. Taking my hand again, he led me forward to the edge of the temple’s precipitous steps.