“Your wife—she sleeps?”
“Aye,” said Matthew, and Rupa nodded.
“Is good,” she said with a glint in her eye, clearly aware of the way he and Jenny had spent their time after retiring to their caravan the night before.
Pias tapped Matthew’s shoulder. He said something in the Gypsy language and pointed to the children.
“Aye. They are enjoying their game,” Matthew said.
“My man—he say come and kick ball,” said Rupa.
Matthew readily agreed, welcoming the exertion of running, a pastime he felt as though he’d often done.
The two men went to opposite sides of the field, each one vying for possession of the ball, but using no hands to do so. Pias was extremely proficient at moving the ball with his feet, and he passed the ball to his teammates more often than not, giving the young ones all the opportunities to score points.
Matthew’s body was unfamiliar with the game, and he fumbled with the ball at first. The children were patient with him, demonstrating their technique, and laughing with him when he erred. He soon caught on and followed Pias’s example, kicking the ball to his young teammates, enjoying himself immensely.
The cold woke Jenny. In the short time since she’d been with Matthew, she’d grown accustomed to sleeping beside his warm body. He must have added wood to the stove before leaving, and by the look of it, she reasoned he had not been gone very long. She heated some water and washed in the gajo manner, then donned her Bresland clothes.
She felt changed after last night.
Sliding her hands down the front of her gown, she closed her eyes and relived the moment when Matthew had entered her, when their bodies and souls had become one. She’d known so little about the relations between men and women…She had never imagined how much more vulnerable she would feel…
She’d been a fool to partake of such intimate activities with a man she hardly knew, a man who could very well give her the news that he remembered the wife he’d left behind.
Yet what if his instincts were correct and he had no wife waiting for him? Could she walk away from a man who seemed so different from Mr. Ellis, a man whose affections might actually be reliable and true?
Jenny’s chest swelled painfully, and she covered her heart with one hand, wondering if she could risk it, knowing how shattered it would be if she chose wrong. How she would miss those sparkling blue eyes and that ready smile, and the warm caresses that made her feel so cherished.
She almost wished she had never met him, for then her path would be clear.
Bracing herself, Jenny set aside the elusive appeal of his embrace and decided what she must do. The Gypsy kompania had not traveled far enough from Kirtwarren to prevent Reverend Usher and the constables from coming back, but a long day’s walk would do it. She had to go.
Bardo might object to her leaving without finishing their reading lessons, but when she reminded him of the trouble she might bring to camp, he would surely agree.
She packed her belongings in her traveling bag, then stepped out of the caravan, feeling torn. She could not leave without speaking to Matthew.
When she saw him in the midst of a game with the children, she went to Rupa’s caravan and stood watching him play. He laughed as though he hadn’t a care in the world, and she could easily understand that. With no past, Matthew truly had no worries, only the memory of what they’d shared the night before.
He cut a handsome swathe through the players, the corners of his bright eyes crinkling with laughter. He kicked the ball to one of the young girls, who then kicked it over the goal. Matthew cheered and lifted her into the air, delighting the child as well as her comrades.
Jenny felt her heart clench as her resolve wavered.
“He is good man, your husband,” said Rupa.
Jenny could only nod in response. He was the hero who’d saved her from the highwaymen on the road; he’d seen to it that Kaulo kept his distance. He’d made love to her with a tenderness she would never have experienced with Frederick Ellis, or any other man. Yes, her Scotsman was a good man.
In a leisurely fashion, the Gypsies started to break camp, the women packing up while the men put out the campfires and carried the heaviest items into the caravans. Matthew and Pias Petrulengo quit their game reluctantly, even though the children pulled at their trouser legs and begged them to continue.
Matthew caught Jenny’s gaze and smiled broadly. He joined her at Rupa’s caravan and slipped his arms around her. Unabashedly, he kissed her.
Jenny felt a blush heat her cheeks and found herself drawn into their kiss, reliving a fraction of what had passed between them in the night. When someone nearby cleared her throat, she came to her senses and pulled away.
Matthew took her hand and drew her out of the camp.
“Matthew, I—”
“Come, there’s something I want to show you.”
Jenny set aside her reservations for the moment, unable to resist his appeal. She walked alongside him toward the pasture, vaguely aware that his mere proximity was interfering with her ability to reason.
He stopped suddenly in the midst of a stand of trees, out of sight of the camp. “Come here, lass, and give me a proper kiss.” He swung her around and pulled her into his arms, drawing her up to her toes and lowering his head to take possession of her lips.
Jenny could not resist the powerful attraction that arced between them. She slid her hands around his neck and held him tight, opening her mouth for his welcome incursion. He pulled her hips close, and she felt the hard ridge of his shaft. His arousal fueled her own, and as he deepened their kiss, Jenny felt driven to join with him, to make love as they’d done the night before.
He broke away from her suddenly and grabbed her hand, grinning wickedly as he led her into a clearing where the sun shone brightly in a cloud-dappled sky. He found a mossy patch of ground alongside a few large stones, and laid her down on her cloak. Coming down over her, he kissed her deeply. With one hand, he touched her breast through her woolen gown and opened the placket of his breeches with the other.
“Ach, how I want you, lass.”
They did not undress, and Jenny trembled when she caught sight of Matthew’s thick erection jutting from his trews. He raised her skirts and touched her intimately, pressing his fingers against her most sensitive flesh.
“Matthew!” She could hardly catch her breath.
“Aye, lass. You’re ready for me.”
Jenny was still trembling when ’twas over. Matthew righted her skirts, then buttoned his trews and gathered her into his arms. “Ah, my sweet Jenny.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but she slipped out of his arms and stepped away.
“Matthew, we…” She bit her lip. “I cannot believe I just…”
She looked up at him, and he felt a tenderness that paralleled the sòlas they’d just experienced.
“I’ve chosen horses for us.”
“Horses?”
“Aye, lass. You want to leave, do you no’?”
She turned away, crossing her arms against her chest. Matthew thought he’d convinced her they were meant to be together, but it seemed she still had doubts.
He moved behind her and gently brushed a few bits of grass from her hair. “Moileen, my memory has started to return in small pieces. Soon I’ll be able to assure you—without reservation—that there is no one else.”
He slipped his arms ’round her waist, and when she leaned back against him, he knew she’d surrendered.
“I have plenty of gold, surely enough to purchase horses to carry us to Carlisle.” Keeping his arm ’round her, he turned her and pointed out the white gelding.
“This one…And the mare.” He showed her the gray palfrey he’d chosen for her. “I know what Bardo paid for these two. He’ll take my gold for them.”
“Matthew, I don’t know how to ride.”
Her words took him aback. He’d assumed…
’Twas strange how his lack of memory functioned. Why wo
uld he assume she could ride? Was everyone a proficient rider where he came from? A memory of the white horse came once again, and Matthew forced his brain to reach into the past and come up with a solid memory. Yet ’twas as patchy as the sky above them.
“Then we’ll buy only the gelding,” he said. “I prefer to hold you between my legs as we ride, anyway.”
Jenny walked to the edge of the field, then turned to watch Matthew as he made himself known to his new horse. He ran his hands along its neck, its withers and flank, then his lips moved as he spoke quietly to the beast. Jenny felt spellbound as she watched him, entranced by the slow, deliberate movements of his body.
Ignoring the alarm bells ringing in her heart and soul, she left him with the horses and returned to camp to collect their belongings. Matthew seemed so sure, and he was so ardent with his attentions…
Jenny could not bring herself to abandon him. She could not help but risk her heart with him.
Matthew had had no doubt that he could convince Bardo to part with the white gelding, but Jenny wasn’t sure how the man would react to losing his teacher. She decided to let Matthew handle that as well. Leaving the cover of the trees, she walked into camp, where all was quieter than usual.
Three saddled horses stood at the edge of camp, tethered to a nearby shrub. Reverend Usher had come back!
Controlling her panic, Jenny darted back behind the nearest caravan to avoid the constables, and pulled up her hood just in case they caught sight of her. None of them had seen her yet, but she could take no chances. She made her way to Rupa’s caravan, well behind the area where Usher and the constables were walking. Poking her head around to the front of the caravan, she called quietly to her friend. “Rupa!”
The woman did not turn, but stood and casually retied her head scarf, then picked up a bucket and carried it to her door. When the caravan’s door blocked her from the constables’ view, she waved to Jenny to come inside.
Jenny moved quickly, scrambling up the steps as Rupa followed her into the caravan. She went to the window and pushed aside Rupa’s bright yellow curtains, just far enough to see Reverend Usher talking with Bardo at the opposite end of camp. The two men in black uniforms had split away from the headmaster and were making their way toward the caravan she shared with Matthew.
“He is in the pasture! What if he comes back when they’re—”
“Your man, he…” She tapped a finger to her forehead. “He know.”
“But if they surprise him…”
“They look for woman, not man.”
That was true, so Jenny allowed herself to relax a fraction. Still, all this meant that Reverend Usher had not given up. Perhaps it would be better to stay yet one more day with the Gypsies.
Matthew came into the camp and found himself face-to-face with the men Jenny had wanted to avoid. He wished he understood why the headmaster of Bresland School was so determined to take her back.
“What have we here? A blue-eyed Gypsy?” said one constable to the other.
Matthew was dressed as a Gypsy, and since he’d seen many a variation in eye color between the two kompanias, the comment did not worry him. He knew he could mutter a few words and make these two disappear, just as he’d done the day before, but he held back this time, shrugging as he’d seen the Gypsies do, as though he did not understand their language.
He wanted to avoid calling attention to Jenny, so he walked away from his caravan and went in search of Pias, with the hope of drawing the Englishmen away from her. But Pias was leaving with some of the other men, and heading toward the pasture. Matthew took a quick glance ’round and saw no sign of Jenny. Rupa gave him the slightest hint of a nod, and he felt immediately reassured. He caught up to the men who were on their way to get the horses, confident that Rupa would take care of Jenny.
When he returned to the camp, the gajo were gone, and Jenny was still out of sight.
Matthew went to his caravan and vaulted up the three steps to his door. He pushed it open, but Jenny was not inside. His first thought was that the constables had found her, but he quickly dismissed it. He understood the Gypsies well enough to know ’twas a matter of honor to prevent such a thing. He tied the horses to the wheel and went in search of Rupa, certain the woman would know where Jenny was hidden.
Her absence made him acutely aware of how empty his life would be without her. No matter what his past, Jenny was going to be his future.
She was descending the steps of Rupa’s caravan when he approached, and her worried expression tugged at him. He took her into his arms and wished he could reassure her with facts. “Doona worry, moileen. I will take care of you,” was all he could say, firmly wishing he would have an opportunity to throttle the despicable headmaster. Matthew was going to relish the moment when Usher realized his adversary was not a small girl child, but a warrior chieftain with…
Matthew cursed silently when the memory flitted away. If he was a warrior of some kind, then where were his weapons? And if he was chieftain…who were his people?
“I think we should stay with the Gypsies one more day, Matthew,” said Jenny. “Just until we’re a few more miles away from Kirtwarren.”
“Aye, if it will make you feel better.” He hoped Usher made another foray into camp. Matthew would blast him beyond the horizon with his…
“Matthew, are you all right?”
He swallowed. “Aye, sweet.”
She looked ’round. “I’m afraid they might be keeping watch from a distance—”
“I can make a search of the area, lass,” he said, discomfited by the incomplete bits and pieces of memory that came so quickly, then evaporated before he could make sense of them.
“Let’s just stay another day, Matthew. By tomorrow, we’ll be that much farther away, and they’ll likely be out of their jurisdiction.”
“Are you sure, moileen? Moghire could carry us far today, much farther than the Gypsies will travel in their wagons.” He took her hand, and they started back toward their own caravan. All the others were packing to leave, but he and Jenny had naught to carry but her bag and his satchel.
“Mog-hara?”
He laughed at her English pronunciation of his horse’s name. “Aye, Moghire. My comely white gelding.”
“’Tis a strange but lovely name. Do you know where you got it?”
He shook his head. “Nay, lass. It just came to me. I know it connotes beauty and magic, all in one.”
“You still cannot remember anything else?”
Could he tell her he was a warrior who would protect her with his life? Or that he could crush Reverend Usher with little more than a thought?
“I’ve had a few strange flashes of sights that might be memories, but naught of substance. The only thing I know is that you are mine, Jenny Keating. You belong with me.”
She actually gave a shy smile at his words and did not hesitate to return his quick kiss.
“You! English!”
Bardo’s approach separated them, and the Gypsy looked to Matthew, rather than speaking directly to Jenny as he’d done before. He showed none of the swagger and confidence she’d noted before, and he spoke to Matthew with deference. His attitude toward Matthew was decidedly different, and Jenny wondered if something had happened in the village the day before.
“Good day for teach, eh? Your wife…she give lesson?”
Matthew kept her close, and Jenny felt more at ease than she’d felt in eleven years.
“I have no objection to letting her teach you, Bardo. But she stays here beside me while I drive.”
Bardo nodded his agreement.
“And you keep your nephew away from her.”
Matthew drove the caravan while Jenny sat on the wooden bench beside him, managing somehow to avoid looking back every few minutes for signs of Usher and the constables.
“Why is the headmaster so determined to have you back?” asked Matthew.
Jenny shook her head, puzzled by the question. “I cannot imagine, since he took
a dislike to me when I first arrived. His opinion never changed.”
“But he kept you at school beyond your time as a student.”
“I wanted to leave, but I needed a position first.”
“And Usher gave you one.”
“Yes, when my advertisements came to naught.”
“Good of him,” Matthew said dryly.
“What do you mean?”
“Only that it seems quite convenient for his purpose.”
“Of keeping me at Bresland?” Jenny asked.
Matthew nodded. “Aye, lass. He wanted you to stay. Can you think of no idea why?”
Something Norah had once said struck Jenny now.
“What is it?” Matthew asked.
“Probably nothing.” She pushed away the distant memory of her poor, dead friend.
“Anything you remember, moileen, might be of importance. The man is passionate about getting you back. There must be some reason.”
Yes, there was, but Jenny was too ashamed to speak of the pleasure the headmaster had derived from his cruelty to her, especially those horrid beatings when she was draped across his lap. They were perverse, and Jenny never wanted to think of them again, much less speak of them.
She shrugged, though she wondered if Norah had been right, and Reverend Usher could face censure if those thrashings became known.
With the row of Gypsy wagons moving so slowly, Matthew had one hand free. He guided the horses easily, managing to touch Jenny frequently. He whispered strange, fascinating words in her good ear, and she found herself looking forward to the moment when they would stop the wagons and retire to their own bed for the night.
She would not allow herself to dwell on what would happen once he remembered his identity and his past, but prayed that he was correct in his belief that he had no wife.
Bardo soon came to their caravan and climbed up with his letter charts to sit on her opposite side, putting her between the two men. “Where is Tekari Kaulo?” she asked, though she did not miss the annoying Gypsy. She just wondered if she would need to repeat this lesson later.
Temptation of the Warrior Page 12
