A Dangerous Love

by Brenda Joyce

  What if the Romany left on the morrow, even though Jaelle thought they’d be there for a few days?

  “What is wrong with you today?”

  She started. She had been so immersed in her thoughts of Emilian she had forgotten where she was. She quickly smiled at her brother. The village was in the near distance. Spotted cows grazed alongside the road. “I am thinking,” she said.

  “Dianna asked you three times what you will wear to the Simmonses’ ball,” he said, staring closely. “I know you don’t care what you wear, but you are very distracted. Is something bothering you?”

  She smiled widely. “What could be bothering me? I am with my brother, whom I adore and whom I have dearly missed. My little sister, who I have also sorely missed, is here, too, and Margery is with us! The afternoon is perfect.”

  Now Margery and Dianna stared. Alexi frowned. “Now I know you are bothered by something or someone. You hate shopping. We usually have to drag you from the library for an outing. Today, you came without a word. You do know the ladies wish to make some purchases at Hawks’, don’t you?”

  She kept her smile in place. “Of course I do.”

  “You are lying,” Alexi said flatly. “And you are terrible at it.” He sent her a dangerous smile. “Something is wrong. I intend to find out what that is.”

  “Nothing is wrong,” Ariella cried in real dismay. “Can’t I enjoy my family?”

  Dianna said softly, “It’s just the Gypsy.”

  Ariella’s heart turned over, hard. With dread, she looked at her sister. But Dianna shrugged at Alexi, clearly unaware of the havoc she could wreck.

  Alexi’s blue eyes became brilliant. “I beg your pardon?”

  Dianna blushed. “They have a very handsome smith. Margery chatted with him. I was agog—so was Ariella.”

  Alexi looked at her.

  Ariella felt her cheeks turn red.

  Her mind sped. She must make light of it. She said quickly, “Dianna is correct. The smith was very handsome. We couldn’t help but ogle him while Margery asked where to leave some treats for the children.”

  “You are dreaming about a Rom?” Alexi demanded.

  Ariella wished her color would fade. She sat up straighter. “I am actually thinking about the conversation I had with a young Gypsy woman—it was very edifying and educating.”

  The Romany men like their women in their beds…

  Ariella quickly glanced out of the open carriage at the small farm they were passing. The homes on the outskirts of the village were just ahead. She was always disappointed when Alexi left on his various affairs, which usually took him to distant ports. Now, she hoped he would be off very soon, before her interest in Emilian was discovered.

  “What will you wear to the Simmonses’? They are calling it a ‘country’ ball.” Margery touched her hand.

  “I haven’t thought about it. I was hoping to beg off,” Ariella said honestly.

  “Ah, now I have my sister back,” Alexi said, smiling. Then his glance strayed past her and widened. His face hardened.

  Ariella knew something was amiss. She looked in the same direction and saw a placard on the front door of the livery, but she couldn’t read the sign.

  Alexi looked at her. “I didn’t need a crystal ball to know there would be trouble, and this is another step in that direction.”

  “What are you talking of?” Ariella asked, but now, she saw a sign on the front door of one of the village’s two public inns. No Gypsies Here. She cried out loudly. “That is terrible!”

  “Oh, dear,” Margery murmured. “How rude.”

  “Look,” Dianna said.

  Everyone followed her gaze. Two Gypsy boys stood on a street corner, one playing a fiddle, the other with his hat turned upside down on the ground. The hat was empty. The pedestrians passing by were ignoring them, even though the older boy played beautifully. The younger boy kept trotting up to the passing villagers, asking for a coin. Ariella saw one heavyset gentleman actually elbow the child away, as if he had leprosy or another disease.

  “Stop this carriage immediately,” she cried furiously.

  Their coachman braked the coach.

  Alexi seized her arm. “What do you intend?” he demanded.

  She tried to wrench free. “Let me go. I wish to pay for the music—it is beautiful.”

  He stared into her eyes and released her. “Fine.” He jumped to the ground and held out his hand.

  Ariella stumbled from the carriage with his help, Margery and Dianna following. She hurried over to the boys, holding her skirts to move swiftly. She recognized the dark-haired young man from the night before. He was the one who had been so angered by her intrusion, until Emilian had claimed her as his guest.

  She smiled at him, out of breath. “You play beautifully.”

  He didn’t smile back. He was a handsome lad, with very dark hair and eyes.

  Ariella smiled again. She dug into her reticule and intended to empty all of her coin in the hat. Alexi muttered, “They are proud,” and it was a warning.

  She thought of Emilian. Alexi was right. She put a shilling in the hat.

  “Thank you,” the older boy said gruffly.

  “You are very welcome,” she said. She was thrilled when Alexi put a shilling in, as well. “What is your name?”

  “Djordi.”

  “I am Ariella de Warenne, and this is my brother, Alexi de Warenne, my sister, Miss Dianna, and Lady Margery de Warenne.”

  The boy looked wary and said nothing.

  “I didn’t bring any coin with me,” Dianna whispered.

  “I’ll put enough in his hat for us both,” Margery said, doing just that. “Shall we walk over to Hawks’? It is just across the street. When we’re done, we can take tea at a private room in the inn.”

  Ariella bristled and turned. The placard with the grotesque words remained at the inn’s door. She breathed hard, fighting her outrage, then gave up. She strode to the inn’s front doors and pulled at the sign with both hands. It didn’t give.

  Frustration mingled with her rage. She pulled harder. Splinters caught in her gloves. Alexi caught her wrists. “Let me,” he said quietly.

  She backed away, wiping the tears from her eyes. He ripped the nailed sign down and flung it into the street. She hugged herself. Djordi and the younger boy simply stared at them as if they were mad.

  Alexi turned. “Are we going to remove all the signs? I can see a half-dozen from here.”

  She hugged him. “Yes, we are—you are. Thank you! I love you!”

  He grinned, a devilish expression that Ariella had seen very proper ladies fight amongst themselves for. “Does that mean you will confess your secret to me?”

  She stepped back. “I have no secret. But this is obscene. And the boys are right there.”

  “I am not sure they can read English, but I am sure they know exactly what the signs mean.”

  Ariella stared at him.

  “What are you trying to tell me? That the Romany know they are not wanted?”

  “Yes. They know they are scorned, and even despised.”

  Instantly, she thought of Emilian. She was sickened. She could imagine what he must feel when confronted with this kind of bigotry and hatred. No man was prouder. Her outrage would pale in comparison to his.

  The boys, standing a short distance from her, didn’t seem to care about the signs. Then again, Emilian would likely pretend disinterest if he came to the village, too. But he would care—deeply—and those boys had to care, as well.

  “Not only will we remove every sign, we will make our displeasure with each and every merchant known. We will make it abundantly clear that, in the future, the Romany are to be tolerated when they pass through Kenilworth.” She exhaled. “And I am not stepping one foot in that inn. I am far too offended.”

  “It is too bad a woman cannot be the town mayor,” Alexi said with a smile.

  “Women have ruled crowns, thrones and great estates,” Ariella said grimly, thinking
of great women like Queen Elizabeth and Eleanor of Aquitaine.

  “Women often rule men from their beds.”

  Ariella looked at him.

  “Every single day,” he added with a shrug. “But you wouldn’t know that, would you? No one has turned your head yet.”

  Ariella heard him, but her mind was racing with sudden comprehension. Her father, a great, powerful man, was on bended knee around Amanda. Her uncle, the earl, was the same way with the countess. And Lady Harrington most definitely ruled her husband, Ariella’s Uncle Rex, although gently.

  She looked at her brother. “Maybe it is through love that these women rule.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, no. They wield their power from their beds.”

  The Romany men did not value virginity and chastity at all. Emilian’s image flashed. Come to Woodland tonight and I will seduce you…

  “While you debate the great and original subject of women in power, Dianna and I are going into Hawks’,” Margery said. She smiled at Ariella. “We’ll take tea elsewhere or at Rose Hill.”

  Ariella hugged her. “Thank you.” But Margery gave her an odd look before she left with Dianna, heading toward the fine goods emporium. Ariella was relieved when she saw no sign on that door.

  Alexi plucked her sleeve. “Well?”

  “We have some signs to remove, and some merchants to speak with,” Ariella said firmly.

  But before she could take a step toward the next offending sign, he grasped her arm. “Is your heart intact, little sister?”

  Her eyes widened. How could he possibly guess?

  “Are you finally mooning over someone?” His gaze narrowed.

  Her heart thundered. “If I liked someone, I would bring him home,” Ariella said. She was horrified at how hoarse her tone sounded.

  And Alexi knew he had been right and that she was obfuscating, because his eyes widened in surprise. Too late, she realized he had merely been fishing.

  “Who is he?” he asked quietly.

  He could never know. He was very protective of her, and unless Emilian wished to court her with marriage on his mind, Alexi would never approve. Ariella was suddenly sober. No matter how open-minded her family, a Rom suitor was hardly what anyone was expecting—and Emilian was not even a suitor. She would have to convince everyone that this was a grand, once-in-a-lifetime, fated de Warenne love.

  But was it?

  “You are mistaken,” Ariella began. But the front door of the inn opened, slamming against the wall, and a woman came running out. As she stumbled past them, Ariella glimpsed her frightened face, her long, auburn hair and bright purple skirts. Jaelle. Alexi seized her arm to keep her from falling headfirst to the ground.

  But Jaelle wrenched free and leaped into the street.

  A carriage was coming and she was about to be run over. Ariella screamed at her, horrified. “Jaelle!”

  But Jaelle somehow ran past the oncoming horse, so narrowly that her skirts whipped its knees. The driver braked abruptly, the gray rearing. Ariella was certain the horse would trample Jaelle as it came down, but she escaped its hooves, never breaking stride, fleeing across the street.

  “Good Lord!” Alexi exclaimed, horrified.

  Two men burst from the inn, shoving past them both.

  Jaelle had paused, panting, almost doubled over. She saw the men and whirled, running into an alley between a house and the church.

  “Go behind the church. I’ll follow the cheating bitch,” one of the men said. The heavyset speaker started to follow Jaelle across the street, while the other man ran toward the church.

  Alexi leaped forward and seized the second man from behind, so hard he caused the man to stumble. “Care to think twice about pursuing a lady?” he asked softly.

  The man straightened and flushed. “That’s no lady,” he snapped. Then his eyes widened as he realized from Alexi’s stature and dress that he was a nobleman. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir.”

  “It is Captain de Warenne,” Alexi said. He flung him back toward the inn. “I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.”

  Ariella wanted to applaud, but the first man had vanished into the alley, just moments after Jaelle. Alexi was already leaping onto a horse tied outside the inn. Ariella knew her brother would rescue Jaelle. “Hurry,” she told him.

  He didn’t answer, galloping across the street and into the alley.

  Ariella jumped into the coach. “Follow them, Henry,” she ordered.

  The coachman whipped the chestnut mare and she broke into a madcap gallop, veering into the alley so wildly that the curricle came off one wheel entirely and Ariella was thrown across the backseat. As the gig came down and she straightened herself, she saw that the heavy-set man was in the courtyard behind the church, panting and furious but alone. Alexi sat the borrowed horse, whirling it about, clearly looking for Jaelle. High stone walls enclosed three sides of the yard, making it a dead end. Her coach halted. She did not see Jaelle, but there was no way she could have escaped.

  “Is she in a tree, damn it?” the white-haired man cried, peering up at the two tall elms that grew along the back wall.

  Alexi walked his prancing mount toward him.

  The fellow suddenly stiffened. Clearly recognizing him, he doffed his cap. “Captain de Warenne!”

  Alexi smiled and it was ruthless. “How manly you are, Tollman, to chase a small, helpless woman.”

  “There’s nothing helpless about the Gypsy bitch. She asked if she could tell her fortunes to my customers, and I agreed. But all she’s done is cheat the men, one by one.”

  “She’s a woman,” Alexi said softly-dangerously.

  “She’s a Gypsy! They’re no better than wild animals!” Tollman cried.

  Ariella saw that her brother’s temper was explosive. He said even more softly, “I suggest you leave her alone. I find it impossible not to defend a beautiful woman, and I do not think you wish to make me your rival, Jack.”

  Tollman glanced behind him, as if wishing for his friend, who did not appear. He nodded, backing away, then finally turned and started down the alley, past Ariella’s coach. Ariella could clearly see his face. He was furious and muttering to himself. She heard the words Gypsy, whore and de Warenne.

  What had Jaelle really done?

  Ariella glanced at the two elms. There was no way a small woman could reach the first branch to climb either tree. She glanced at the back door of the church. Alexi said, “It’s locked.”

  Then he slipped from the horse and turned to the wall. “You can come out now. We won’t hurt you.”

  Ariella’s eyes widened. There was a very small drainage grate built low into the wall. Her brother knelt and tore the grate from the wall. Then he held out his hand.

  Ariella saw a small dirty hand reach her brother’s extended one, and then Alexi pulled Jaelle out.

  She was a ragged, muddy mess, but she straightened to her full height, flung her hair back and stared at him as if she were a queen. Then she looked down the alley and it was the wary, watchful look of someone being hunted.

  “They’re gone,” Alexi said quietly.

  Jaelle gave him a wary look. Then she began brushing off her skirts. As proud as she was attempting to be, Ariella saw that her hands were shaking. Her compassion soared.

  Alexi touched her arm. She flinched. His tone kind, he said, “Why don’t you sit down with my sister for a moment?”

  She smiled at him scornfully. “And then what? You will ask your sister to leave so you can be repaid for rescuing me?”

  He stiffened. “I hardly expect to be repaid for anything—and not in the way you suggest.”

  She tossed her hair. “All gadjos are the same.” She looked at Ariella now, ignoring Alexi.

  Ariella slid from the coach. “Are you all right, Jaelle?”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Alexi started, surprised that she knew her. Ariella said quickly, “I meant it when I said I had interviewed a young woman at the Romany camp.” She turned back t
o Jaelle, concerned. Her arms were bleeding. “They didn’t do that, did they?”

  “No, the scratches came from being in there.” She gestured at the drainage hole.

  Ariella looked very closely into her eyes. She was trying to be proud, but she was distraught. Ariella thought her incredibly strong and brave. Any other woman would be weeping now—and probably in her gallant rescuer’s arms.

  “Those cuts should be cleaned,” Ariella said. “Why don’t you come back to Rose Hill with me, so we can take care of those abrasions?”

  Jaelle stood like a soldier. “I am going to Woodland.”

  A silence fell. Ariella was about to offer her a coach when Alexi stepped forward, directly in front of her. Although she refused to look up at him, he said, “My sister wishes to take you to the house to clean your cuts. Why would you refuse?”

  Jaelle slowly lifted her amber gaze, and Ariella realized she was valiantly fighting to keep her composure.

  Alexi’s face was so hard that Ariella almost didn’t recognize him. “Did they hurt you?” he asked bluntly.

  “No,” Jaelle said.

  He stared, his expression doubtful.

  “They wanted to.” Her eyes darkened. A single tear finally slipped free. “You know what they wanted.”

  Alexi turned away. Ariella knew he was enraged. “Take her to Rose Hill,” he ordered. “Then make certain she gets to Woodland.”

  Ariella was alarmed. “Alexi, what are you going to do?”

  “She is a woman!” he exclaimed furiously. “Those lechers need a lesson in good manners.” He vaulted onto the horse and spurred it into a canter.

  Ariella turned to Jaelle. “What happened?”

  “I only wanted to read their palms.” She added, “But they all wanted more—they all thought I’d read their palms and warm their beds!” She wiped another tear furiously from her face. “The fat one grabbed me. Bastard! He grabbed me and started kissing me—I struggled and got away. I hate them all!”

  Ariella put her arms around her, appalled. She hoped Alexi beat them soundly. “Well, thank goodness it is over.” She smiled brightly. “Come home with me so we can clean those cuts, and I will make sure you have a carriage to take you to Woodland.”