Claiming the Forbidden Bride

‘I thought—’ Rhys hesitated, for some reason reluctant to confess that during that journey he had imagined he was back in Spain.’Perhaps,’he amended.’Parts of it.’

Even as he said that, it seemed he did remember. They’d put him on a cart of some kind. And the ground they’d pulled the conveyance over had been very uneven.

Rough enough, he thought with an unexpected clarity, that he’d been more than willing to sink back into the unconsciousness their painful ministrations had pulled him from.

‘What about my horse?’Another memory that had suddenly risen to the surface of his consciousness.

‘A gelded bay with a star on his forehead?’

‘That’s it. He’s my brother’s, actually. I should hate to lose him.’

Rhys had had several mounts shot out from under him in Iberia. More than enough to teach him not to become attached to any of them. Still the bay had been responsive, seeming as pleased with the freedom of their journey as Rhys had been.

‘One of the men found him this morning. Don’t worry. He’ll be ready for you when you’re well enough to ride.’

‘When do you think that will be?’ Right now, he couldn’t imagine sitting on a horse, but given the crowded conditions of her “home,” he also couldn’t imagine imposing on her any longer than was absolutely necessary.

‘I’m a healer, not a fortune-teller, my lord,’ she said with a smile. ‘I can send for my grandmother if you’d like to make inquiries about your future.’

‘I’m no lord.’ Rhys wasn’t sure why it was suddenly so important that she understand that.

‘All English gentlemen are lords to us.’ The smile tugged at the corners of her lips again. ‘We discovered long ago that a little flattery goes a long way. Especially when your livelihood depends upon the goodwill of those with whom you conduct business.’

‘And what kind of business do you conduct?’

Her chin tilted upward fractionally. ‘Assuredly not the kind you’re thinking of. As I told you, I have some small skill with herbs and potions. I can set bones and sew flesh so that the limbs involved are still usable. My grandmother can tell you what your future holds, ifyou’re foolish enough to desire that information. As for the others.’ She made that expressive movement with her shoulders again.’We’re blacksmiths, tinkers, leather workers, basket weavers, woodworkers. Craftsmen of all kinds. And we buy and sell all manner of things.’

The Rom were known for all those things. And for many others as well. For centuries every type of roguery—from cheating at games of chance to stealing children from their beds—had been laid at their door.

With that thought, the image of the little girl’s wide blue eyes surrounded by colourless lashes was in his mind’s eye. How did a child like Angeline come to be in a Gypsy camp? Rhys didn’t believe for a moment that Angel was her daughter.

That was, however, a subject he couldn’t afford to pursue. Not while he was flat on his back and at the mercy of these people. At least one of whom very much wanted him gone.

He wondered what this woman’s relationship was with the man who’d ordered her to get him out of camp. Was he the tribal leader? Her father? Husband? Lover?

The last two choices were more distasteful to him than they should be. Despite his attraction to her, the worlds they occupied were separated by an abyss of custom and prejudice. The Gypsy had taken care of him, for which he would always be grateful. As for the other.

The sooner he could leave, the better it would befor all concerned. The woman who had tended to him could once more have her home back. Whoever had demanded she get rid of him would be satisfied. And more important, Rhys would be on his way once more to his godfather’s house.

With the memory of his journey’s purpose, he realized that unless he sent word to Keddinton that he’d been delayed, his godfather was apt to sound the alarm, which would send Edward rushing into the countryside to find him. It was lucky he hadn’t been more exact in his letter about the date of his arrival. Perhaps if he sent Keddinton a message now, he could forestall the humiliation of his family’s search.

‘Some of you have occasion to travel outside this camp?’

‘Of course,’ Despite her ready agreement, the woman seemed puzzled by his question.

‘I was hoping someone could take a letter to my godfather, Viscount Keddinton. His home is Warrenford Park. NearWargrave. He’s expecting me. If I don’t show up there soon, he may institute a hue and cry.’

Although Rhys had attempted to phrase the possible consequence of his non-arrival lightheartedly, the woman’s face changed. Only then did he realize that his presence might represent a danger to the Rom. And on reflection, he had no doubt his brother and even Keddinton would assume the worst if he were discovered to be convalescing in a Gypsy encampment.

‘Of course,’ she said evenly.’I’ll bring you something with which to write your message and see that it’s delivered as soon as possible.’

‘Thank you. My arrangements were not so exact as to cause immediate concern, but I think it best we forestall any unnecessary worry.’

‘Of course,’ she said again, but her eyes told him she knew exactly what he was thinking.

He had finally escaped his family’s solicitous care of him. Now he must concentrate on regaining his strength in order to escape the possibility of further humiliation. Not all of which, he admitted ruefully, involved his family.

‘How is he?’ Magda asked.

‘Stronger.’ Nadya dipped a ladle into the pot of porridge that hung over the fire near her grandmother’s caravan. She had already put the writing materials she’d promised the Englishman in the pocket of her apron. ‘He doesn’t remember what happened with Angel or how he came to be here.’

‘He doesn’t remember saving her?’

‘No. And I’m not sure it’s to our advantage to tell him.’

‘As it stands now, he believes he’s beholden to you. Magda had immediately grasped her dilemma.’If you tell him what he did for your daughter, the shoe is on the other foot.’

‘Exactly.’

‘And yet you feel like a cheat for not telling him.’

Nadya looked up at the old woman, marvellingagain at how easily she was able to read her thoughts. ‘He deserves my gratitude, Mami. If he hadn’t been there…’A tightness in her throat prevented her from finishing the thought.

‘It wasn’t only that he was there, chavi. According to the girl, he put his life at risk to save Angel.’

‘I know. And for a child he didn’t know. A child who was nothing to him.’

‘An English child. One of his own kind,’ Magda reminded her.’If your daughter had looked like you, chavi, I wonder if he would have gone into the water to rescue her.’

Nadya couldn’t argue with what her grandmother was suggesting. She had lived her entire life with the kind of unthinking prejudice that held her people to be less worthy of every measure of respect accorded to the fairer-skinned population among whom they lived.

‘What do you think?’ Magda asked.

‘About what?’Without meeting her grandmother’s eyes, Nadya wiped the rim of the bowl she’d just filled with the edge of her apron.

‘Do you think he would have done that for another child? For Tara? Or Racine?’

‘How should I know what the gaujo would do? All I know is what he did.’

‘And that’s enough for you?’

‘It’s enough for today,’ Nadya said as she straightened.

‘And for tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow he’ll be gone, and I won’t have to wonder about him ever again.’

The dark, far-seeing eyes of her grandmother held on hers. Then the thin lips, surrounded by their network of fine lines lifted, curving at the corners.’There are lies more believable than the truth, chavi. The one you just told isn’t one of them.’

‘Your old sayings may work with the gadje, Mami, who are willing to believe anything you tell them. You’ve forgotten who you’re talking to. Besides, Stephano has decreed I have to get rid of the Englishman before he returns.’

‘When have you ever worried about obeying Stephano’s orders? Except when they track with your own desires.’

‘Then isn’t it convenient that in this case they do? Go peddle your fortunes to the villagers. We shall need their shillings come winter.’

‘Before it, if we keep feeding strangers.’ One dark brow rose in challenge, but the old woman’s grin widened.

And when Nadya turned to take the gaujo’s breakfast to him, she, too, was smiling.

As she rounded the corner of her vardo, she discovered the Englishman dressed and sitting on its high seat. Flat on his back, he had sent her normally unflappable senses reeling. Upright, he proved to be even more of a threat to them.

Much the worse for its recent immersion as well as for the now-mended mutilation she’d performed on it, the lawn shirt was stretched across a pair of broad shoulders. She had removed his cravat when she undressed him. He hadn’t bothered to replace it today, so that the strong brown column of his neck was visible at the open throat.

‘Out for the sun?’ She shaded her eyes with her free hand to look up at it.

‘I thought it was past time I was up.’

‘Then you’ve discovered the answer to your question.’

‘My question?’

‘About when you’ll be well enough to ride.’

His lips flattened, but he didn’t respond to her teasing. She waited a moment, unsure what had just happened, and then held the bowl she carried up to him.

‘Do English lords eat porridge?’

‘I’m sure they do.’The green eyes again held a trace of amusement.

‘Do you?’

‘I have been known to partake of porridge. When I was lucky enough to have it at hand.’

‘Then…’ She lifted the bowl a little higher.

He hesitated a moment before he reached down to take her offering. ‘I’ll be more than happy to pay you for whatever you’ve expended on my care. If you’ll provide me with—’

She wasn’t sure what he saw in her face, but whatever it was stopped him in mid-sentence. ‘It’s porridge,’she said. ‘We’ve plenty of it. And no matter what you’ve heard, we aren’t accustomed to charging our guests for their food.’

‘I’m hardly a guest.’

According to his lights, he was right. He didn’t remember what he’d done to earn her gratitude, and she had thus far, for her own selfish reasons, chosen not to tell him. But it was past time for the truth.

‘You are my guest. An honoured one. For as long as you wish to stay.’

‘That’s very kind, but—’

‘You saved my daughter’s life,’ she interrupted. ‘At considerable risk to your own.’

‘Your daughter? Angel?’

‘She’d fallen into a stream, and you rescued her. I’m not sure when or how you struck your head, but it was in the course of that rescue.’

‘She told you that? I thought.’

‘The girl who was supposed to be watching her witnessed it all. You still don’t remember?’

A furrow appeared between his brows as if he were trying to. Finally he shook his head.

‘None of it. I remember riding out that morning, revelling in the freedom of being in the saddle, and then… I remember being placed on a cart. At least I think I do. That may have been something else—’ Again he hesitated.

‘Something else?’

It seemed the Englishman, too, had things he’d chosen not to reveal, but she couldn’t imagine what. If he remembered the rescue, then in his situation, it would be to his advantage to lay claim to his heroic actions.

‘Another memory, perhaps. I remember thinking at the time that I was being carried from the field. And then. then I thought I must have dreamed it.’

‘The field? A battlefield? You were a soldier?’

‘Better or worse than being a lord? ‘The amusement was back.

‘From my perspective? I suppose that would depend on whether or not you were a wealthy soldier.’

‘Another disappointment, I’m afraid. All the wealthy soldiers were lords. It takes a great deal of money to buy a commission these days.’ He spooned a bite of the porridge, blowing on it before he put it into his mouth.

‘Ah, well,’ she comforted as she watched him, ‘I suppose you’ll just have to share porridge with the rest of us then.’

‘And very good porridge it is, too. Thank you.’ He lifted the spoon in a small salute before he used it to secure another bite. ‘For this and everything else.’

‘I believe the weight of debt is still rather heavily in your favour, my lord. If porridge and a few decoctions can make payments on that balance, perhaps one day it may be paid in full.’

‘Consider it paid already. If what you say is true, then I’m glad I was at hand when your Angeline needed a rescuer.’ He looked up from the bowl, the green eyes serious now. ‘And very glad you were at hand when I needed one.’

‘At no risk to myself.’

His gaze left hers to survey the compound. Despite the fact that the normal morning activities were ongoing, more than one pair of eyes had been focused on the two of them.

The Englishman smiled and nodded a greeting to those who seemed interested in their conversation. As he did, most had the grace to turn their attentions back to the daily tasks at hand.

Andrash, who had helped carry the Englishman back to camp, lifted a hand in response. The ex-soldier responded in kind before he looked down at her.

‘At no cost to yourself?’

She laughed. ‘If you’re imagining that my position here is in jeopardy because I choose to take you in, you’re mistaken.’

‘At least one person objected rather strongly to your kindness. And, although I have no way to verify his claim, he said he had the authority to enforce his displeasure.’

He meant Stephano, Nadya realized. Given their proximity to the caravan when her half-brother had issued his ultimatum, she shouldn’t be surprised to find that her patient overheard them.

‘Is that why you’re up? Because you felt…threatened?’

‘I’m up because I felt well enough to try.’

‘And well enough to succeed, it seems. Congratulations.’

‘You may hold your applause until I can do more than sit in the sun.’

‘Granted, your bay will prove more of a challenge.’

‘My brother’s bay,’ he corrected softly.

There was some issue there. A rivalry? Or simple envy of the firstborn’s rights under English law?

‘Shall I ask Andrash to bring the gelding?’ She turned her head, seeking the smith, who had apparently found occupation in another area of the camp while they’d been talking.

‘Maybe I’ll check on him. Later, I think.’ He held the half-empty bowl down to her.

Although she noted the slight tremor in his fingers, she didn’t comment on it. ‘At your convenience, my lord. I assure you your brother’s horse will be here and well tended when you are ready for him.’

‘If you insist on a title, then major will do.’

‘Aren’t majors’ commissions purchased?’ she teased.

‘It happens mine was awarded. My previous ranks were purchased, however. By benefactors,’ he added when she cocked her head as if to challenge his denial of wealth. ‘My brother and my godfather, actually.’

‘That reminds me.’ She fished the paper and pencil stub out of her pocket, holding them up to him. As he took them, his fingers brushed hers. ‘So, Major…?’

‘Morgan. Rhys Morgan.’

‘How do you do, Major Morgan.’ She lowered her head as she had seen the ladies in the village do.

‘Better than yesterday, thank you.’

‘And not so well as tomorrow. That I can promise you. Don’t be impatient.’

He nodded, his eyes on hers.

After a moment, she deliberately broke the contact between them by looking down at the bowl he’d handed her. ‘We can do better than this for dinner.’

He shook his head. ‘You’d be surprised how grateful one can be for porridge.’

For some reason she believed him. Of course, as a soldier, he had undoubtedly known deprivation.

Now, however, he was back in England, where his kind wanted for nothing. Except, perhaps, the favours of a well-placed benefactor. Or of a Gypsy girl.

‘You didn’t tell me your name.’

Surprised, her eyes came up, as she debated whether or not to tell him the truth. And then, deciding that it couldn’t possibly matter if he knew, she did. ‘My name is Nadya Argentari.’

‘Your servant, Miss Argentari.’ He repeated her earlier gesture, making rather more of it than she had.

‘Somehow I doubt that, my lord.’

‘Major,’ he corrected again.

‘Major Morgan. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients who seem to still be in need of my skills this morning.’

‘But none, I assure you, who will be more grateful for them.’

‘No matter your denial, I see that you are indeed a milord.’

‘A simple soldier, ma’am, I assure you. And quite willingly at your service.’

He inclined his head slightly. Despite all her strictures to the contrary, Nadya found her senses once more stirred.

Like a schoolgirl taken with the first handsome gentleman she encounters.

Or at least the first she had encountered in a very long time, Nadya admitted. And, she reiterated, this time strictly to herself, the sooner he is gone, the better it will be for everyone concerned.

Especially for me.

Chapter Five

The following morning Nadya was surprised to discover her half-brother back in camp. As she crossed the centre of the compound, she saw one of the men taking Stephanos black stallion to the horse pens to be cared for. Sadly, the animal appeared to be in need of the attention.

Riding his mount to exhaustion was not something Stephano would normally have done, but the act was typical of his single-mindedness of late. Consumed with events in his past, he was, in her opinion, abdicating his current responsibilities.

Not that he was interested in her opinion.

If only his lack of interest might extend to her activities.

Taking a deep breath, she walked toward her grandmother’s caravan. There was no sense in postponing the confrontation she knew would occur. She had deliberately disobeyed Stephano’s orders, and he would demand an explanation. And she had none, other than the one he’d already rejected.

As she approached Magda’s caravan, eyes on the ground, her half-brother jumped down from it and came toward her. She saw that he had been in camp long enough to change out of his gadje attire and back into the traditional garb of their people.

The small gold earring he wore when in camp glinted in the sun. The colourful vest, long-sleeved shirt and loose trousers were exactly the same as those worn by the other men, but Stephano’s good looks and air of confidence would make him stand out anywhere.

Even among the English Ton he professed to despise, she thought with a small sense of pride.

Today, nothing about his appearance suggested his mixed heritage. And when he was with the Rom, that was exactly the way Stephano wanted it.

When he reached her, there was no kiss of greeting, as there usually was between them. Apparently her half-brother had already discovered that the Englishman was still here.

The first words out of his mouth confirmed that impression.’I told you to get rid of him.’

‘And I told you he’ll leave as soon as he’s well enough.’

‘He’s well enough now.’

Without slowing, Stephano strode past her and toward her caravan, so that Nadya was forced to run to catch up with him. She grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

‘Listen to me.’ This time she used both hands to grasp his wrist, holding tightly enough that he would have had to use force to free himself. She was relieved when he turned toward her instead.

Although his face was closed, Nadya tried once more to argue her case. ‘The man saved Angel’s life. Surely that means something to you, if for no other reason than because it means so much to me.’

The hard black eyes softened almost imperceptibly. If she had not known him so well, however, she might not have been able to tell her argument had had any impact. The stern lines of Stephano’s face hadn’t altered.

Which shouldn’t be surprising, she conceded, considering he’d had a lifetime of practice in not revealing what he felt.

‘Magda says he’s well enough to leave,’ her brother said.

‘The next time you suffer an injury, shall I let Magda decide your treatment?’

His lips tightened, but he didn’t dispute her point. She was the drabarni. Questions about healing were her domain, not that of their grandmother.

‘But he is conscious?’ Stephano demanded.

‘Yes.’

‘So who is he?’

‘His name is Rhys Morgan. He’s an ex-soldier, recently returned from Spain.’ She couldn’t see how revealing what his service had cost the Englishman could advance her cause. Stephano had grown so hard that he might instead take those wounds as a sign of weakness.

‘And?’

‘That’s all I know. That and the fact he was travelling to his godfather’s house when he rescued Angel.’

As she mentioned Rhys’s godfather, she realized that her half-brother would be the ideal person to deliver his message. Not only would he be returning to London shortly, he also knew the ways of the gadje and, because of that, would be less likely to raise concerns within Rhys’s family.

‘He asked me to find someone to deliver a note to him.’ She removed the folded paper Rhys had given her from her pocket and held it out to him.

‘To his godfather? Did he mention a name?’

‘Keddinton, I believe.’

‘Keddinton? Are you sure?’

The name had meant nothing to Nadya, but clearly it did to her half-brother. He unfolded the paper to read what Rhys had written, the gesture revealing the silver bracelet her father had made for him.

‘Do you know him?’

Stephano laughed. ‘I don’t travel in the elevatedcircles Lord Keddinton occupies. Not any more.’The bitterness of the last was apparent.

‘Then.?’

‘I know of him,’ he clarified, closing Rhys’s note. ‘So would you if you weren’t so concerned with your “daughter” and your herbs.’

‘A concern for which you’ve had reason to be grateful in the past. And may again.’ Stephano suffered debilitating headaches, which with her herbs she had been able to mitigate to some small extent. ‘Who is this Keddinton?’

‘Someone influential in the capital. More influential than the title he holds would indicate. Your gaujo has powerful connections, jel’enedra. Which makes me wonder why he’s content to recuperate in a cramped vardo under the care of a Gypsy healer. I wonder if that could that have anything to do with you, my dear?’

That very English appellation jarred, especially coming so closely on the heels of his usual name for her. Almost from the moment her father had brought Stephano back to them, he had referred to her as jel’enedra. His little sister.

‘I imagine this is not so different from what he’s accustomed to. I told you: he’s a soldier.’

‘Whose godfather is one of the most powerful men in England.’

‘What can that possibly matter to you?’ She was beginning to fear that her half-brother was considering how he might benefit from Rhys’s connections.

‘I’m not sure it does,’ Stephano said with a shrug. ‘It’s simply something I find interesting. And potentially useful.’

‘How could that possibly—’

‘I said potentially useful, jel’enedra. Do you think it would come amiss if I inform Lord Keddinton of your kind services to his godson?’ He held up the note for emphasis before he pushed it into the pocket of his vest.’Maybe he’ll even see fit to reward you for them.’