Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) (24 page)

Not that he’d stop, of course.

“What a beautiful figurine,” said Vanessa as she stopped to
examine a small carved cat at one of the carts.

“Thank you,
bella
,” said the young man at the cart. 
“Our tribe has some of the best woodcarvers in the country.  We can make
anything you describe, from small figurines such as that to any piece of
furniture.”

“I have always wanted a cat,” said Vanessa wistfully.  “But I
am never home long enough to take care of one.”

“A shame,” said the young
Rom
.  “A home should always
be filled with what we love.”

“Perhaps, Miss Gans, it is time for you to have a cat,” said
Arthur, as he slipped several shillings into the boy’s hand.  “I do not think
this one will require much care.”

Vanessa examined the intricately carved figurine as she
carefully avoided Arthur’s eyes.  It wouldn’t do for him to know how much the
gesture meant to her.  The young man was trying to interest Arthur in other
wooden items they had.  Generous patrons probably didn’t come along often.  But
Vanessa only had eyes for her cat.  And thoughts of the man who’d given it to
her.

As Arthur perused the boy’s wares without really looking at
them, he thought about the look on Vanessa’s face when he’d given her the small
gift.  He’d given expensive necklaces to lovers before and received less
heartfelt gratitude.  He wasn’t even sure what had prompted him to make the
gesture.  Perhaps it was because he could do nothing to solve the big problem
between them, so all that was left was a small gesture. 

“Anything you’d like us to carve, we can do so,” said the
young man, bringing Arthur back to the present.

Vanessa spoke up.  “I have a request,” she told the boy.  “If
I draw it out for you, can you have it made by morning?”

“It would be my pleasure,” said the eager salesman, as he
handed her paper and pencil.

“Another cat?” asked Arthur.

“No,” said Vanessa.  “A small wooden chest.”

*                    *                    *

When Arthur and Vanessa left the cart, the little girl with
Lizzie’s old doll approached them.  Slightly shy, she hung back a little.  But
when Vanessa knelt before the girl and asked about her doll, the little girl
curtsied and introduced herself as Jovanka.  She was Michun’s youngest daughter
and had been instructed to bring Vanessa and Arthur to the camp fire where an
early supper was being served.

“My papa says you are a friend of the
Rom
, my lord,” said
Jovanka, as she placed a hand into Vanessa’s outstretched palm.

Arthur nodded, as he watched Vanessa walk hand in hand with
the little girl.  It was a lovely sight.  Despite Vanessa’s formidable abilities
as a spy and a fighter, she slipped into a nurturing role without conscious
thought.  He imagined her as a mother.  Then he imagined her as the mother of
his children and he felt a warmth that was quite at odds with the coolness of
the night.  He wasn’t sure if Vanessa had any desire to have a family, and he
knew the societal obstacles that would get in their way.  Yet he knew the
family he created with her would make him the happiest of men.

Jovanka brought them to the fire where most of the rest of
the camp was already enjoying their evening meal of rabbit stew and ale.  She
gave them plates then Arthur ladled stew onto her dish.

“Thank you, my lord,” she said solemnly.  “You are a very
nice man for a
gadje
.”

Vanessa coughed to cover her laugh.

“Thank you for the compliment, Miss Jovanka,” he said as he
served Vanessa, then himself.  “I am pleased you hold me in some esteem.”

“My papa and grandmama said you are a good man, but I wanted
to see for myself,” she said as she led them to a blanket where they could be
seated.

“That was very wise of you,” replied Arthur.  “It’s good to
listen to your papa and grandmama, but I also like to make judgments about
people myself.  It is a good habit to get into.”

“It is indeed,” said Sofia, as she approached them.

Arthur started to rise, but she waved him back to his seat
as she sat beside them.  “My granddaughter has a mind of her own.  It is an
asset which will serve her well in life.”

“It will, at that,” said Vanessa.  “Too few women use their
minds as they should.  Or, rather, too few are encouraged to do so.  How is Sir
Lawrence?”

Sofia smiled as she smoothed her granddaughter’s hair.  “His
ankle is very badly bruised, but not broken.  He did, however, become most
distraught when we had to cut his boot off.”

Arthur grinned.  “You should have called me.  I would have
loved to have watched that.”

This time Vanessa didn’t even try to disguise her laugh.

“We gave Sir Lawrence a sleeping draught to quiet him.  He’s
resting comfortably, but I must advise against any further walks with him.  He
should stay off that ankle for several days at least.  We are leaving tomorrow
morning.  It would be our pleasure to give you a ride back to your carriage.”

“Thank you for your kind offer,” said Vanessa. 

Sofia pulled her granddaughter into her arms.  The girl was
obviously trying to stay awake so as not to miss any excitement, but she was
fading fast.  “The two of you will sleep in my
vardos
tonight.  My
grandchildren have been asking me to spend the night with them to tell stories
of the old ways.  Tonight I will once again oblige them.  When you are ready to
retire, someone will show you the way.” 

Sofia rose, then lifted the sleepy Jovanka and her beloved doll. 
“Lord Arthur, I should like to have a word with you in the morning.  A
continuation of our past discussion.”

With that, Sofia slowly walked away, holding her youngest
grandchild.  She had the grace and carriage of a much younger woman.  And the
wisdom of one much older.

“What discussion?”  Vanessa asked, as she took a sip of ale.

Arthur watched her long fingers holding the glass, gazed at
the lips which touched it.  “A conversation from long ago.”

“How exactly do you know Sofia and her tribe?”

The last thing Arthur wanted to do was talk about one of the
darkest days of his life.  He did not want to remember the violence and he
certainly didn’t want to discuss the fortune he had been told.  Better to think
none of it had ever happened.  Better to think only of tonight.

“It’s a long story best saved for a different time,” he
said.

Vanessa considered him for a moment.  “One day, you will
tear down the barriers you put up, Arthur Kellington.  If not with me, then
with someone you trust.  Someone you truly care about.  Because as fascinating
as this Arthur is, I suspect the one beneath the wall is even more so.  And a
truly good man.”

Arthur was uncomfortable with her insight and felt unworthy
of her praise.  He cleared his throat.  “Why do we have to return to London so
quickly?  I imagine Mortimer and Cassidy are halfway to the continent by now.”

Vanessa studied her hands for a moment and Arthur wasn’t
sure if she would answer.  Then she looked at him.  “I believe Mortimer and
Cassidy are in London waiting for us.”

“But why would they be?”

Vanessa gave him the saddlebag she’d been carrying all
afternoon.  “Look in it,” she said.

Arthur opened the bag, then moved her petticoat aside to
discover the chalice.  “I don’t understand,” he said.  “I thought Frederick
Mortimer took it, along with the sword and the spike.  It makes no sense that
he would leave the chalice.”

“There’s something else,” she said, as she pulled a piece of
paper out of her pocket.  “This is the note he left with it.”

Arthur looked at the three words written in a fine hand on
the expensive paper.  “The Judas cup.”  He looked at her for an explanation. 
“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.  He might be referring to what he sees as my
betrayal of him.”

“You were lovers,” said Arthur without accusation.  “He was
telling the truth about that, wasn’t he?”

Arthur’s understanding tone made Vanessa want to cry.  She nodded. 
“And I worked for him.  He was the person I stole for.” 

She looked at him with such sorrow in her eyes, such shame
and disgust that it was everything Arthur could do not to simply haul her into
his arms and assure her that everything would be all right.   “I know you are
not a criminal,” he said.  “I know you never were.”  She began to interject,
but he pressed his fingers to her lips.  “I may have been raised in privilege,
but I know enough of the world to realize that breaking a law doesn’t
necessarily make a person a criminal.  There can be extenuating circumstances
that make an honest person do things they would not do otherwise if given a
choice.  I have not known you long, but in some ways I know you well.  You are
no criminal, regardless of what you did in the past.”

Vanessa turned away, unable to meet his eyes.  She tried
desperately not to cry.  Few people had ever had that much faith in her.  It
was wreaking havoc on the part of her that already liked the unattainable Lord
Arthur Kellington far too much.  She needed to create some distance between
them.  The sooner the better.  “Frederick Mortimer and I met when I was nineteen. 
I had trained to be a governess at a school where they sent some of the orphans
in my village.  I was so excited when I obtained my first position.  It was a
chance to prove myself.  To show others I was more than the…”  She considered
leaving the next part out, but she needed to push him away.  “I wanted to show
others I was more than a bastard.  The illegitimate child of a vicar’s daughter
and the squire’s son who got her in trouble then abandoned her.”

Arthur took her hand in his.  She tried to pull away, but he
would not let her.  “Who raised you?”

“My mother died in childbirth.  Her father thought it was
fitting that the sin which had shamed her family would kill her.  Needless to
say, he didn’t welcome me into their home, although I’m told his wife wanted to
raise me.  He sent me instead to live with kindly tenant farmers on a nearby
estate.  But they both died when I was two, so I was sent to an orphanage.”

He squeezed her hand, unable to think of her in such a
place.  “That must have been horrible.”

“Others had it worse than I.  I did not end up in a workhouse
and they did give me an education.  I studied as much as I could and applied
myself to becoming a governess.  It was highly unusual that someone of my
background would ever be considered for such a position…”

“But you found a way to make it happen,” said Arthur with
admiration.  “That does not surprise me, Miss Gans.   I believe you can do
anything you set your mind toward accomplishing.”

Vanessa was warmed through and through by the praise.  But
it made the rest of her story so much harder to tell.   “I wish I would have
chosen my first employer better.  The previous governess had just quit and she’d
been the third in six months.  But I was so pleased to be out of school and on
my own that I walked blindly into a bad situation.  The lord I worked for
was…untrustworthy.”  She felt tension suddenly radiate from Arthur’s body.  “He
attacked me one night and had it not been for Frederick’s intervention, I
surely would have been ravished.”

“Frederick worked there?”

“No,” she sighed.  “He had broken in to rob the place and
came to investigate when he heard me scream.  He knocked the man out cold.  But
then he had a dilemma.  He could not leave me as a witness to his breaking into
the mansion because he could not risk my turning him in.  So he took me with
him, not quite knowing what to do with me.  He kept me in his rooms for a week,
until I couldn’t go back to my old position – not that I was particularly
anxious to return.  But by that time, the school had heard I’d gone missing
with a man, so I couldn’t go back there, either.  I had few choices and ended
up making more bad decisions.”

“You are certainly not alone in that,” said Arthur.  “No one
can stand proudly behind all of their decisions.  And if you ever could find
someone who did, I’d say he or she had ventured little into the world.”

He was making this extremely difficult for her.  But she
continued, determined that he hear the whole of it.  “I’d had little
interaction with men growing up and I found Frederick fascinating.   I began cooking
and cleaning for him and the other thieves who stayed with him.  Then I became
more involved in their work.  Cataloguing their wares, then learning to steal. 
Despite the risks, Frederick looked after me as no one had ever done before.  I
believed myself to be in love with him.  It was only later when I saw him
attack one of the other thieves and almost beat the man to death that I saw his
true nature.  Shortly after that, Lord Willingham caught me picking a pocket.”

“He’s your superior at the Home Office?”

“Yes,” she said with a soft smile.  “He saw me pick a pocket
then followed me for several blocks, as I did the same thing again and again. 
When he apprehended me, he had enough evidence to have me hanged, or at the
very least transported, but he had other plans for me.  As I told you before,
he said he would train me as an agent, then after three years of service my
criminal record would be destroyed.  After that I would be free to do what I
wished.”

“Let me guess.  You applied yourself and were better than
all your colleagues.”

Vanessa smiled at him.  “It wasn’t quite that smooth of a
transition.  But I did work my hardest to learn everything I needed to know.  I
found I had a good ear and could mimic the accents of everyone, from those in
the stews on up to the peerage.  That served me well when I began my missions. 
But the biggest obstacles I faced were often from my fellow agents.”

“I imagine they didn’t like being bested by a woman.”

“I believe it was an unusual experience for them to work
with a woman in such a way,” she said diplomatically.  “I was also afraid that
Frederic Mortimer would think I’d run away from him, that I’d betrayed him.”