“I could take some time off,” Piers, the quietest Hadrian said, his face set in a studious scowl. “I’m ahead of most of the other students anyway.”
“No.” His father shook his head. “And don’t get any ideas, Jamie.”
“I wasn’t.” Jamie, the youngest of the adopted brood, as Belinda had learned, shrugged. “I was lucky to get a three-day pass for the party. I can’t afford to be late getting back.”
“We don’t have enough equipment,” Connor said. “Otherwise I think it’s a bloody brilliant plan. No one thinks twice about a circus arriving in town. One caravan, though, isn’t nearly enough.”
“What about Mr. Smith?” Liam said. “He’s the one who drew our attention to this in the first place. Maybe he’d loan us his equipment if we gave him any profits we earned.”
Connor laced his fingers through Belinda’s. “That’s not a bad idea. By his own admission, he owes us a few favors, and Belinda is his niece.”
“The roustabouts and performers might even help,” Belinda said. “As long as they all know about the danger. Of course the children and some of the older ones, like Madame Zara, will have to be safely hidden somewhere.”
Merrick shrugged. “We’ve plenty of room at Hadrian Hall and there are several other Order estates scattered around Britain. They’ll be safely lodged, if that’s what they want.”
“Without Madame Zara, there won’t be a fortune-teller,” Wink said. “I wonder if I could pretend to do that.”
“Or me.” Nell bit her lip. “I have the exotic looks, remember.”
Belinda shook her head. “No. I’ll do the fortune telling. Madame Zara is my great-aunt, after all, and I am a Rom, so I look the part too. Besides, I’m quite good with the cards if I do say so myself.”
“So that’s what your gift is.” Miss Dorothy grinned. “Remind me to have you do a reading sometime. I’ve always been fascinated by the tarot.”
Ideas flew so fast they made Belinda’s head spin, and then she and Connor were sent to the telephone to contact her uncle. All was agreed, and by supper the details had been hammered out. That evening, the eldest MacKays’ grand anniversary ball went off without a hitch, although the guard at the gates had been significantly increased. This time, Belinda got to dance with her new husband without interruption—and in another of her mother-in-law’s gowns. It didn’t matter. All she cared about was being with Connor.
A week later, the circus arrived in Northumberland.
Chapter Eight
Belinda finished unpacking her suitcase into her grandfather’s caravan, now that it was parked at the circus grounds. She and Connor, along with Lucifer and the two deerhounds, would call the wagon home for the duration of the investigation. Connor had been assigned to act as Fernando’s apprentice ringmaster, while Tom had worked up a magick act, as his sister had suggested. Melody was along to help Wink with the machines and act as Tom’s assistant. Wink planned to demonstrate some of her wonderful automatons and her “trained wolf” of a husband, who would represent the police in this matter. Her sister Nell would sing as part of the main performance. Altogether, half a dozen Knights and family members had replaced those members of the circus too old or frail to take the risk that might be headed their way.
It had been a whirlwind of a week as they put together the plan and prepared for their various roles in the circus. Most importantly, Sir William had made sure all the charges against Belinda were dismissed. It had come as such a relief, she’d nearly fainted for the first time in her life. Not only had Connor and his father gone to retrieve her belongings from the farmhouse and make arrangement to sell the property, but Belinda had also been allowed to go into Edinburgh to shop. The trip there, in Connor’s steam car, had been exciting, as she had the chance to be utterly alone with Connor in their very own small house. She’d even been given her first lesson in driving the steam car. Perhaps most importantly, she now had a wardrobe fit for a queen, despite it being all ready-made.
Of course, this week, she’d be wearing her old clothes, supplemented with paste jewels and things from secondhand stores to replicate Zara’s exaggerated gypsy style. It wasn’t ladylike, and they were about a serious business, but she couldn’t help but enjoy being back with a troupe. This was where she’d grown up, after all. Having her great uncle as ringmaster and numerous cousins among the group who had stayed gave the entire situation something of the feel of a family reunion.
As for Belinda and Connor, the week had given them time to get to know each other. They’d spent almost as much time talking as they had making love. One thing she’d discovered about being married to a younger man was that his appetites—for food, for adventure and for lovemaking—were voracious. After eight days of marriage, her body was still tender from all the unaccustomed activity. She also couldn’t stop smiling. Her new husband was determined to make her happy. They hadn’t married for love and he probably loved another woman. Belinda could live with that. She’d loved another man, after all, though what she’d felt for Micah was very different from her growing feelings for Connor. Still, she believed they could be content together. They got on, and the passion between them was like nothing she’d ever dreamed. Belinda no longer had any difficulty believing affection would grow, and that they had a long and pleasurable future in store. It would be enough. She refused to ask for more than he could give her.
Presuming, of course, that they were able to stop the witch-finders. Engle had gone into hiding, but they’d set their trap carefully, choosing a midsized town, less than an hour’s carriage ride from Newcastle, where Engle lived. The alderman hadn’t been cooperative when questioned about his cousin, but apparently the squire had possessed no such compunctions and had readily shared what little he knew in return for having the charges against him dropped.
Belinda slid the last suitcase under the bed just as Connor stepped into the caravan, his shadow, Rowan, at his heels. Connor caught Belinda around the waist and pulled her close for a long, smacking kiss. “Everything looks ready for tomorrow’s grand opening. The tents are up, the sideshow booths are in place and we’re already drawing a crowd around the outside of the fence.”
“That’s wonderful.” She kissed him back but wiggled away before things got out of hand...again. “I’m all finished in here, so I thought I’d go get myself settled into Zara’s booth.” She picked up the velvet pouch containing her grandmother’s tarot cards from the bed.
“You’ll have to wait a bit. Merrick is here with more information,” he said. “We’re meeting in the main passenger car to hear what he has to say.” Since the circus traveled primarily by train, they were perforce set up at a railroad siding just outside town, tucked behind the local station. The advantage was that the train cars remained available to house performers and equipment so the crew didn’t have to live in tents. The passenger car was the circus’s primary gathering spot when they wanted to talk without being overheard. Today only the temporary performers were present, along with Fernando to represent the circus. He was the only one who had been briefed on the exact nature of his new “employees.” With both dogs beside them, Belinda and Connor took seats facing the front where Merrick waited, chatting with his two daughters. Once everyone arrived, Wink and Nell took their seats.
Merrick cleared his throat and began. “First, we’ve been able to ascertain that the so-called sheriff who presided over Belinda’s trial was an impostor. Charges against him will be leveled as soon as anyone can find him.”
Belinda gasped while Connor and some of the others cheered.
“We managed to find one club in Newcastle with an Archibald Engle listed on the membership roll,” Merrick said. “We’ve investigated, but we don’t believe it to be a front for his anti-magick group. No one there admits to knowing him well and the club includes several foreign nationals among the membership. We’re still watching it and also making sure that word of this circus spreads to the neighborhood around those clubs, along with hints that there will b
e real magick. Hopefully, word of the magick, along with the newspaper advertisements emphasizing that this is a Romany troupe, will be enough to draw them in.”
“We will all be on guard,” Fernando said. “If they come, we will be ready.”
A murmur of agreement rose from the rest of the crowd.
Wink stood up. “Before we go rehearse, I have something for each of you. Not all of us can carry pistols in our costumes, and we don’t want anyone walking about unarmed—even the regular performers. These are only good for one shot, but in a pinch, that should be all you need.” Her husband took a box from the floor by his feet and handed around silver rings designed like large flowers, each centered by a different colored artificial stone, to every one of the women. “The stone flips up to reveal a tiny dart,” Wink said. “There’s enough sedative in the dart to knock an adult male unconscious in seconds. All you do is push aside the stone like this, and press the stem of the flower.” She did so, and a dart embedded itself with impressive force into the velvet of the seat behind her.
Belinda accepted a ring with a bright red glass center. Next to her antique wedding ring, it was garish and cheap, but she put it onto her opposite hand nonetheless. She already wore a small pistol strapped to her thigh beneath a slit in the side of her skirt and petticoat.
“For the men, I have gloves with brass knuckles set into them and pocket watches with the tranquilizer darts.” Wink nodded to Tom, who passed those around. “We’ve got enough of each for a number of the regular performers too, Mr. Smith. We also have weaponry and distress sirens hidden in most of the tents and booths.”
Belinda knew about that. There was a rifle mounted under the fortune-teller’s table, and an electronic buzzer installed to summon help if she needed it. Since her plan was to keep Willow with her at all times, she wasn’t terribly concerned about the alarm. While Scottish deerhounds were a noble breed, far too dear for circus performers, they could pass for gypsy lurchers. Since Belinda’s injury, the dog had all but refused to leave her side. As often as not, Rowan was there as well, having clearly decided that Willow was his. While his attachment to Connor remained clear, the dogs were both happiest when their two humans were together. Lucifer chose to keep to the caravan, disdaining the open spaces and bustle of the circus.
“Since neither of us is in the performance, why don’t we take the afternoon train into Newcastle?” Connor asked as they left the meeting car. “I trust my father and Merrick to handle the investigation, but I can’t help wanting to see Engle’s premises for myself.”
“I agree.” Belinda looked down at her layered, brightly colored skirts and purple satin bodice, then Connor’s striped waistcoat and tall boots. His hair had been dyed black so he didn’t stand out among the Romany circus folk. “Do we have to go dressed like this? We might cause a stir walking through neighborhoods.”
“I think we can sneak out in our own clothing,” he said with a chuckle, tugging her into their caravan. His voice dropped to a husky promise. “Although if we help each other change, we might have to catch a later train.”
* * *
Connor tried to stifle his satisfied grin as he and his demure-looking wife settled into their seats on the train into Newcastle-upon-Tyne just past teatime. There was still plenty of daylight left to examine Engle’s neighborhood, but it would be a late supper they’d be having before they caught the last train back. Being newlyweds was an exhausting, if exhilarating, business. Looking at Belinda now in a forest-green traveling suit with a parasol in her gloved hands and a green velvet hat with a tiny black veil shading her forehead, he wanted to crow with pride. Other men eyed her with admiration, but only he got to see that luxurious dark hair tumbled across his pillow.
“I’d like to stop at a stationer’s, if we can,” she said. “I need a new notebook.”
“Filled the old one up with stories, have you?” She’d let him read some of her children’s fairy tales. Several of them, including one about a sheltered prince who longed to be a warrior, had touched him deeply, making him gasp with excitement, laugh out loud and genuinely care about the endings. She had a true gift. As a surprise, he’d already sent a letter to an Edinburgh publisher with a sample.
She nodded. “On the trip down. Traveling gives me extra time for writing, it seems.”
“When you’re not the one driving or shoveling coal.” Connor touched her nose. “I’m glad that we had additional help.” Tom had joined them for the trip from Kay’s Tower, meaning that Belinda had been able to relax in the sleeping compartment.
“Well, I offered to help.”
“Yes, you did.” She’d have been perfectly capable too and he felt no shame admitting that. Still, both he and Tom had been raised as gentlemen, so they’d taken turns with driving and stoking the boiler. “So have you given any thought to redecorating the house once we return to Edinburgh, or would you rather just look for something larger right away?” They’d spent the night in his bachelor townhouse on their shopping trip, and even Belinda had admitted quarters were tight.
“Whichever you prefer.” She bit her lip then smiled. “If we do stay, I was thinking some lace curtains in the sitting room and parlor to let in more light than the velvet drapes. I can use the spare bedroom in the attic as a stillroom.”
“So a bigger house, with ample space and better windows. Agreed.” He wiggled his nose to make her laugh, which she did. “We’ll need more space for servants, anyway. One couple is sufficient for a bachelor establishment, but not for a family.”
“Making assumptions again?” Her smile vanished. “Please don’t get your hopes up.”
“Not assumptions, blackbird—promises.” He patted her hand. He’d grown to love the idea of a houseful of children. “One way or another, my dear. If it’s children you want, then children you shall have—as many as you like. I asked my mother to poke around and look for a respectable orphanage while we were gone. They’re always looking for patronesses, so whether or not we choose to adopt one or a handful, you’ll be able to help any number of them by supporting the institution.”
“Thank you.” She laced her fingers through his. Her voice was thick with emotion. “I never dreamed I’d be so fortunate.”
They sat in companionable silence for the rest of the short ride and then took a hansom cab to Engle’s purported address. The house, settled in a clean middle-class neighborhood, appeared vacant. The shutters were all nailed closed and the brass doorknocker and doormat had been removed, long enough ago to leave a film of dust behind on the doorstep.
Connor climbed back into the cab after walking around the house to the alley behind. Taking his seat across from Belinda, he removed his breathing mask—necessary in a large industrial city like Newcastle due to the overwhelming coal smoke. “There’s not a damn thing back there—no sign at all of recent occupation. Hell, I didn’t even find footsteps around the servants’ entrance.”
Belinda’s forehead wrinkled. “Where could he have gone?”
“I don’t know.” He clenched and unclenched his hand, wanting to hit something, or more specifically someone. He wouldn’t be sure Belinda was safe until the bastard was behind bars. “This isn’t the address of a gentleman of leisure. Do we know Engle’s profession?” That hadn’t been anywhere in Merrick’s briefing.
“You believe witch-finder is just an avocation?” She rolled her eyes. He could practically see her mind working as she no doubt thought back over everything she’d ever heard about Mr. Engle. “I seem to recall Mrs. Douglas once saying her husband’s cousin had designed the newest wing of their home. So he could be an architect or builder, but I’m not sure it was the same cousin.”
“Well, we can use that to look for more information.” It was more than they had so far. Connor checked his pocket watch. “It’s not five o’clock yet. There might be time to find an official and ask how a newly married couple would go about choosing someone to design a house.”
“That’s an excellent thought.” She tap
ped her fingers together, pantomiming applause. He felt a distinct flush of pride at having earned her approval. “Perhaps they can give us a list.”
“Or better yet, direct us to a trade association or guild hall.” He instructed the driver to head to the county offices, and pointed out a few sights to Belinda as they went. Newcastle was a bustling city, with its shipyards and cathedrals, theaters and shops nestled at the mouth of the River Tyne, and Belinda was a delightful audience—bright, eager to see and learn as much as she could and able to tell him things he hadn’t known either, including which parts of town were considered off-limits to gypsy circus performers.
“I was only here once,” she said. “That same spring we traveled north. I met Micah in Carlisle and left the circus. I haven’t been out of Scotland since.”
“I’ve been here on Order business several times, but I’ve never taken time to sightsee. Perhaps we can come again when we’ll have more time.”
“Perhaps.” She looked doubtful, as if she’d rather go home to Edinburgh, and be with him in something bigger than a one-room caravan.
Connor lifted her hand and kissed her gloved fingers. “So, tell me. How did a girl from the circus wind up on a Scottish farm, anyway?”
“It’s not a very exciting story.” She glanced away from him, out the window. Her former husband was the one area of her life she’d been reticent about discussing. “Micah stopped by the circus out of boredom and found me behind the fortune-teller’s booth, reading a book. It turned out he’d read the same story and we spent enough time talking about the book that I was late to supper. Feeling guilty, he offered to take me to dinner at a nearby hotel. We were comfortable together from the first, and by the end of the week, he’d asked my grandfather for my hand. When the circus moved on to Ayr, I went with Micah to Shadwick.”
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