by Julie Berry
I ventured out into the road and waved at the wagon. Gypsy luck, don’t fail me now.
The driver sat up taller in his seat and pulled on the reins.
“Mamma mia!” He stopped the wagon, jumped down, swept off his hat, and bowed.
“Is it so?” he said in a thick accent. “Or do my eyes fail me in the sunlight?” He gazed eagerly into my face. “Is it that you are a maiden in distress?”
“Well, you might say—”
“But no!” he cried, seizing my hand. “To call you a maiden is to call the ocean a puddle!”
“Sir,” I said firmly, “I am a maiden.”
I took a step back and surveyed him. He was tall, with glossy black curls and dark blue eyes. He wore an impossible suit of dark red trousers and a fitted coat, with black trim and gold buttons. His clothes, in fact, seemed quite at odds with the shabby wagon and horse.
I scarcely knew what to think. “Who are you?” I said.
“Those that know me call me Rudolpho,” he said, still holding my hand. “Those that know me better call me Amoroso.”
“Do they.” I backed away yet again until we were almost playing tug-o-war with my hand. “That’s interesting. As you mentioned, I am in some distress, and—”
“Why do you stop the wagon, Rudy?” came a groggy voice from within.
“Go back to sleep! I speak with an ugly old woman!” Rudolpho cried. “My brother,” he whispered to me. “I keep him around for pity’s sake. He’s half idiot, maybe more than half. But a scandal around young ladies. My little fib, it was to protect you.”
A head poked out of the wagon that was identical to Rudolpho’s, though rumpled with sleep.
“More than half idiot, am I?” the head said. “Says you, three-quarters ignoramus and two-thirds dunce?”
“Their arithmetic needs work,” Priscilla observed from behind me.
Rudolpho’s brother stumbled out of the carriage. He wore a suit just like his brother’s, except his was black with red trim. He wrenched my hand free from Rudolpho’s and stroked it.
“Signorina bella,” he said, “pardon me for having such a brother as this irksome louse. Alas, I, Alfonso, cannot help it. My lot in life is to follow him around, rescuing him from his own stupidity, for such was our poor dying mother’s last wish. But in your face, ah! What an angel! Heaven has rewarded my pains.”
“I found her first!” Rudolpho displayed his fists. “Go back to sleep, you great sluggard!”
“Will you both stop at once!” I cried. “If either of you had any sense at all, you’d see that my friends and I are in great need of help.”
Then they saw Priscilla, Miss Jessop, Aidan, and Mr. Thorndike. They grimaced.
“The big one, him we cannot carry,” Rudolpho said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Our poor horse, she is half-dead already.”
“The fat one, she is too sour,” Alfonso said. “She will spoil the upholstery.”
“The dead one,” Rudolpho crossed himself, “may as well stay where he is.”
“And the other one,” Alfonso said, indicating Priscilla, “she is … ” Here Rudolpho elbowed him. “Is she your sister, signorina?”
I was so angry at these two arrogant popinjays I didn’t answer.
“Only a friend?” Alfonso said. “Friends come and go, but you, bella donna, will go no more, but only come with me in my wagon.”
Aidan appeared beside me.
“Is everything all right?” His voice was low and even, but the brothers shrank back a bit.
“I was just explaining to these two gentlemen,” I said, “about our unfortunate treatment at the hands of the bandit”—their eyebrows rose—“and about the tragic death of the driver, and how we greatly need a ride to Fallardston, to find lodging for our friends and see to the driver’s body.”
“Ah, then,” Rudolpho said, “our only wish is to be of assistance. However … ”
“What my brother is meaning to say,” Alfonso interrupted, “is that we most regrettably are obliged elsewhere. If it were not for our art, the demands she places upon us, leaping to your aid would be our first and only desire … ”
“Especially seeing as it is you, signorina,” Rudolpho cut in. “But as it happens we are scheduled to perform tonight in the opposite direction from this Fallardston.” He wrinkled his nose, as if Fallardston smelled poorly.
“Really? Perform where?” I asked.
“Mundy,” Rudolpho said.
“Mandolay,” Alfonso said.
“Do you mean Maundley?” I asked.
“The very same!” said Alfonso.
“A thriving city,” Alfonso went on, “where anxious crowds await us.”
“For the carnival,” his brother said, “of Saint Bridget.”
“The festival,” the first corrected him, “of Saint Bonaventure.”
“Do you mean the Feast of Saint Bronwyn?”
“Extraordinary, your grasp, signorina,” Alfonso said. “Without you, we would be lost.”
“And no wonder,” I cut in, “for you’ve missed Saint Bronwyn’s Feast by a week.”
Alfonso and Rudolpho glared at each other. Matthew Dunwoody had mentioned actors …
“I told you the butcher man said it was last Tuesday!”
“No, you didn’t. You said it was today.”
“No, I said … ”
“Since the Feast of Saint Bronwyn’s has passed,” I said, raising my voice, “surely you won’t wish to continue your travels to such a remote area as Maundley, a village of no more than a hundred people. You’ll wish to return to where the audiences are larger, yes?”
“A hundred people?” Rudolpho burst out. “That butcher, he said … ”
“Never mind the butcher,” I said. “I’ve saved you two days of travel. Return the favor?”
Rudolpho took my hand once more. “Favors for you, mi bella, certamente.” The scoundrel actually kissed my arm! Not to be outdone, Alfonso began kissing my other one.
“Mi bella,” Rudolpho said, “have you considered the noble art of the stage? Join us, become an actress, dance and sing for queens and kings! With a face like yours, La Commedia dell’Arte would prosper! The eyes that flash like fire, the hair like spun gold, the lips … ”
Aidan began to cough, and if ever a cough sounded like a threat of violence, this one did.
“I accept your kind offer to drive the two ladies back to Fallardston,” I said, “while my friend Aidan and I walk alongside the wagon.”
“But it is unthinkable that you should walk!” Alfonso declared. “You shall ride with me here.”
“Ah, but think.” I yanked my arms free. “If your horse had a second wind, the young man would fall behind.” Second wind, pah. I was certain that’s what they’d try.
“You shall not ride with my half-wit brother,” Rudolpho said. “You’ll ride with me.”
“I’ll walk,” I said. “And when we reach Fallardston, I will repay your kindness.”
I confess that here I winked at the two brothers, and without a further word they leaped to assist Priscilla, her aunt, and Mr. Thorndike into the wagon.
Chapter 12
As it happened, Miss Jessop did spoil their upholstery. The day’s shock upset her so greatly that she deposited her breakfast upon Prissy’s lap. Poor Prissy spent a miserable afternoon roasting in the wagon with a pallid corpse, her suffering aunt, and that noxious smell.
I trudged along, thinking of Mr. Thorndike. Oh that I were a man, or better, a dozen men, who could bring that murdering fiend to justice! Why couldn’t I have helped the poor man?
More than ever, I wanted to be a physician. But would I reach the university? And if I couldn’t enroll this autumn, would I get another chance? The king would soon forget me. Miss Jessop and Priscilla surely wouldn’t continue on now. I couldn’t travel alone.
There was one other choice.
“Aidan.” I watched closely to see if he was still vexed with me.
“Hmm?” His
eyes were only tired now.
“Priscilla and her aunt will no doubt stay in Fallardston until they have recovered and received assistance from home,” I said. “Supposing I stay with them, what will you do?”
He shrugged. “Go on to Chalcedon,” he said. “My master will be wondering after me.”
“How will you get there?”
“Walk,” he said. “It’s not so bad. About three days. Farmers and villagers will often give me a meal and a bunk in return for fixing up fences or porches. A mason’s always needed.”
I took a deep breath, gathering all my courage. “Aidan,” I said, and he turned to look at me. “Will you take me with you?”
He stopped walking. So did I.
“D’you mean, just the two of us, walking?”
I nodded. “I don’t see any other way.”
He took off his cap and shook dust off the brim, but his eyes never left me. “Well … how’s that going to look?”
My words poured out. “Aidan, if I don’t get to University on time, I’ll never get to—”
“What will we say, when people ask us to give account of ourselves as we travel?”
I found myself staring at his boots. “We could … we could say that we’re … married?”
Aidan’s eyes opened wide. By now the actors’ wagon had left us far behind, and we both ran to catch up before Alfonso or Rudolpho noticed.
“I could say I was your sister,” I stammered, “but isn’t that, somehow, less safe? For me? If people thought I was your wife, they would be more inclined to leave me alone.”
“Men don’t seem to leave you alone, do they.” It wasn’t a question.
I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s happened all of a sudden. It’s never been like that before.”
Aidan was watching me with an amused look, and I realized in an instant what a vain, coquettish thing that was to say.
“I don’t mean … ” Oh, be quiet, Evie! But I had to go on. “What I mean is that, never in the past … ” Oh, help. “It’s probably got something to do with the gypsies.”
“The gypsies?”
I forced out a laugh. “Their magic trinkets. I bought a few ornaments at the feast day”—I gestured to my charms —“one of them, she said, was a love charm. Ever since then … ”
My voice trailed off. Immediately I bit my lip.
“So, you bought a love charm from the gypsies, did you?”
“No!”
“No?”
“I mean, yes. But not because it was a love charm. I thought it was pretty!”
Aidan did not look convinced. “May I see?”
I showed him the charm. In the waning light, it was only a dull gray rock and a string.
Aidan gave me an odd look. “I’m no judge, but I’ve seen prettier trinkets, I think.”
“Oh, never mind my trinkets!” I poked it back under the collar of my dress. “The point is, will you take me with you, or no?”
He watched me closely. Never before did Aidan Moreau have the power to make me feel so self-conscious. “And tell folks you’re my wife?”
Why must he press this point? “And tell them I’m your very young wife.”
He sighed and shook his head. “With my luck, if I parade you around as my wife I’ll meet a beautiful girl somewhere, one that I would have liked to court. But she’ll never have me, no matter how many times I go back and explain, because she’ll be convinced I’m a bigamist.”
I averted my face to hide my bafflement. Was he teasing me?
“I’ll take you, Wife,” he said, “as far as Chalcedon, but then I’m seeking an annulment.”
Chapter 13
Twilight fell, and my mouth tasted bitter with thirst, when at last we staggered into Fallardston. I could hear the nearby rush of river water racing over stones in the shallows, and the sound only drove my thirst to madness.
As the lights of town began to twinkle in the distance, another sound reached my ears. It was the raucous cry of some sort of bird. My whole body seemed to respond to its call.
“What’s that sound, Aidan?” I asked.
He looked up, puzzled, then realized what I meant. “Those? Those are gulls. They live near the seashore and catch fish. Look. There’s one.”
A flash of white flickered overhead, soaring in a neat arc above our heads, then disappeared again into the gloaming night.
Breezes blew in from the west, sweeping across the sea toward us, bringing a cold, fishy, salty dampness. I imagined the vast ocean, surging and receding, and was seized with desire to see the blue water and thrust my feet into the wet sand.
The first public house we found was called The Badger, which had a cheerful aspect with its bright red door and orange lamplight in the windows. Aidan went off in search of an undertaker and the coaching line dispatcher. I collected our coins and went into the inn.
The proprietress was a tall, lanky woman of middle age, with a protruding chin and sharp eyes. She took in my bedraggled appearance and pursed her lips critically. My heart sank. But she listened attentively and kneaded a great bowl of bread dough while I told our story. I feared my tongue would trip as I called Aidan my husband.
“Not married long, are you?” the woman said, nodding curtly.
“Only just.” I didn’t dare look her in the eye. I showed her the money we managed to save, and she nodded again, with a vicious thump at her dough. I wouldn’t want to be her enemy.
“Young woman,” she said, “My name’s Prunilla Bell, and I don’t do favors. You’ve got to pay to eat and sleep at The Badger. But there’s nothing I hate worse than lawless brigands, murdering and terrorizing the countryside. And I notice the coach didn’t pass through today. You look like an honest young woman,” she went on. I felt a twinge at that. “I pride myself on my judgment. I’ll tell you what. You and your man are bound for Chalcedon?”
I nodded.
“The last ferry’s gone,” she said, “and you’ll not find another coach for two more days. You got anyone that can give you money once you get to Chalcedon?”
Did we? Well, there was the king. If that failed, Aidan had his master. I nodded my head.
“There’s a ship,” she said, “sailing tonight with the tide, bound for Chalcedon. Should arrive by tomorrow midday if the wind stays favorable. My nephew, Freddie, is second mate.”
A ship? And travel by night? Was it safe? I supposed one could drown as well by noon as in moonlight. I remembered Grandfather’s strange insistence that I not travel by sea.
“So you take half of this money and put it down for boat passage. Ship’s called The White Dragon. Not a week ago it brought a princess over, can you imagine? Freddy’ll trust you for the rest. He does what I tell him.”
I didn’t doubt it. She divvied up the coins on the serving counter into two piles.
“The rest of the money, I’ll take as a deposit for your friends. They’ll share a small room and send letters home. If the mail coach gets through this time, they should hear back from their folks back home within two or three days. I can be patient until then.”
Whack, whack went the heels of her hands into the gritty brown dough. Heaven help Prissy and Miss Jessop if this woman’s patience should run out! But there was no question of the Hornbys not sending help, provided word reached them.
I stood there debating. I’d never wish to betray Grandfather’s trust. But this was so much better, quicker, and safer than walking for three days and posing as married. Wasn’t it?
I was on my own now, with only my judgment to rely on. It was time for me to make my own choices and see them through.
“Your new husband treat you good?”
I was so startled by this I dropped a coin on the floor. “Who, him?” I stalled for a reply. “He treats me good enough.” Aidan, the kindly husband. Treating me “good.” What a farce!
Mrs. Bell nodded, and winked at me. “You got one that treats you good, you hold on tight to him. That’s my advice, a
nd I don’t charge any for it.”
I turned away before this expert judge of honest character could see me laugh.
We eased Miss Jessop into the bed The Badger’s proprietress showed us, fetched her soup and wine, and in no time she dropped off into an uneasy, moaning kind of sleep. I brought in a basin of hot bathwater and a nightgown loaned by Mrs. Bell for Prissy, and she crawled into bed next to her aunt, shuddering with exhaustion.
“I want to go home, Evie,” she said. “I’ve done my bit of traveling.”
“You don’t need to decide anything tonight,” I said. “Remember how you’ve wanted to go on to University. Don’t abandon hope. There might yet be a way.”
“But I haven’t wanted to go, Evie,” she said. “Not nearly so much as you.”
Surely that wasn’t so. All those years of study!
“Before Saint Bronwyn’s Day, I asked Sister Claire if she could use me as an assistant teacher,” Prissy said. “If she still wants me, that’s what I’ll do. I always enjoy the little ones.”
And I’d thought Priscilla couldn’t surprise me.
She was fading fast. “Don’t be alarmed,” I said. “Come morning, I’ll be gone.”
Both her eyes flew open wide. “What?”
“I’m … I’m going to go on. With Aidan. He’s going to take me to Chalcedon. Tonight.”
She lifted her head off the pillow. “Just the two of you?”
“It’s the only way,” I said. “He’ll keep me safe. I know he will.”
“But Evie … ”
“Prissy, please don’t tell your parents what we’re doing!”
She sank back down into her pillow. “Don’t do anything rash, Evie,” she said. “No more than what you’re already about, I mean.”
I smoothed her hair out of her face. “Dear Prissy, I will miss you so,” I said. “We have a good, solid plan. We’ll tell people we’re newly married, so they’ll leave us both alone.”
A tired laugh rose from the bed. “Send a letter and tell us when it actually comes true.”
I rocked back on my heels. “Bite your tongue, Priscilla Hornby!”