by Shirl Henke
“I told Uncle Isaac you had wrought a miracle. He likened it more to conjuring up the devil.”
She gave a warm, hearty chuckle, all the while observing the discomfited way his eyes followed Rani across the room. “I do imagine she will steal a few hearts tonight.”
“Hah! If only she confines herself to hearts, not to purses, I shall be grateful.”
“Not even a whit jealous, Benjamin?”
“What insanity has led you to do this? Tis madness. Now she will expect to be admitted to the upper classes...to...to...”
“To wed a man of means? Yes, I imagine she will have her pick among many suitors in the weeks to come. Noah has agreed to dower her—as a favor to me.” Olivia studied her cousin rather like a dungeon master might watch a felon being stretched on the rack.
“Dower her? Good God, she is caraque! No man here can wed her!”
“Lower your voice, Benjamin. Rani's father was Rom but her mother was of the Hungarian nobility. Of course, she is a bastard, but that signifies naught if an influential family supports her—and we do.” Olivia smiled and accepted a goblet of wine from a server, then sipped it thoughtfully, letting her cousin fulminate.
“I asked her about her mother once. She said the woman was Romni”
“Considering the manner in which you doubtless made the inquiry, I can scarce imagine a girl with Rani's pride would say otherwise. She is more proud of her Romani blood than of her Hungarian. Your own sister has wed a half-caste. Your brother is one.”
“That is Española. Rudolfo and Rigo are half Taino. This is Marseilles. Rani is half caraque. Tis different here and well you know it. She is unlettered, socially—”
“Rani already knows more of reading and writing than a good number of the fine ladies in this hall. As to her social graces, why not judge how apt a pupil she is for yourself?”
He quirked an eyebrow sardonically at his smug older cousin. “And you think I might fancy taking over your job as tutor.”
“You have already seen to her education in some areas more than sufficiently.” Her tart reply caused a slight flush to stain his face.
“Rani is my problem, not yours, Cousin.” Benjamin stalked toward the dancers, just now returning from the floor as the musicians ceased playing.
Rani had watched Benjamin covertly since she entered the hall. He was furious and so was his uncle. Now he bore down on her, his handsome face set with a harsh, mocking expression. I will remember what Olivia has taught me. I will act the lady...if it kills me!
He took her hand and kissed it lightly, dismissing the young man who partnered her with a cursory admonition to enjoy his uncle's fine wines. “You look to be skilled at the pavane. Yet surely it cannot be half so exhilarating as dancing barefoot before the crackling flames of a campfire.” As the music resumed, he led her into the stately steps.
“I no longer have the option of dancing barefoot before Romani fires, Benjamin,” she replied evenly, willing her heart to slow its frightened pounding.
“Why did not you tell me what Olivia was doing?” he growled.
“You would have approved no more than your uncle, who scowls blackly from yon corner.” She met Isaac's fierce gaze levelly and nodded as they passed in the dance.
“What game do you play, Rani? Olivia says you are learning to read and write as well as dress so splendidly.”
“Never fear. I shall not surpass Miriam Toulon in erudition, but the books in Noah's library are a great enticement to learn. The world is so wide, filled with such infinite possibilities.”
He saw the expression of rapt wonder in her eyes and felt a strange tightening in his chest. As the dance came to an end, he led her from the center of the hall to a secluded corner by the wide doors leading to the portico. “Rani, I do not want to see you hurt,” he began very carefully.
Her eyes met his, their dancing golden lights considerably quenched. “You would not see me hurt, yet you would keep me hidden in the servants' quarters, dressed as a caraque, used only to warm your bed.” How she hated that word, caraque! It held all the scorn and revulsion gadje felt for Rom—that Benjamin had felt for her when first he met her.
“Tis you who came to me, Rani. I did not drag you into my bed.” The words echoed hypocritically in his ears even as he spoke them.
Rani fought the urge to slap his beautiful face, her golden man, her lover. Oh, Agata, you were mistaken in this. “I need not listen to you, nor force you to suffer my odious presence, Benjamin. This night you may sleep alone, or not, as you choose. I will not come to your bed—ever again!” She turned away and glided into the press of people before he could grasp her hand.
Benjamin watched as several youths clustered about her, offering to fetch her refreshment, asking to dance with her. He felt his gut tighten in anger at her flirtatious manner—or was it jealousy? Never, even when Miriam had broken their betrothal, had he felt so confused.
Seizing a tall silver ewer of wine from a passing servant, he poured its contents into a large goblet, drank deeply and then had the boy refill the goblet once again. His brooding eyes never left the glittering girl in scarlet who laughed and talked so gaily.
Rani struggled to do as Olivia had bid her, putting on a facade of flirtatious exuberance, ignoring Benjamin. She thinks this will make him jealous, but all I do is further anger him. Doggedly, she persisted, determined to enjoy the evening, at least for Olivia's sake. Then the jaunty, balding corsair who captained Le Revenant appeared, standing just outside the open door facing onto the portico. Remembering his mysterious conversation with the man who mentioned Española, Rani felt the hairs at her nape prickle. What was he doing in Isaac Torres' home, attending a ball? She laughed inwardly. What business did she have here, for that matter?
But some premonition of danger stirred her curiosity. He meant harm to Benjamin's family. How, she was uncertain, yet she knew it. Agata had said she possessed the sight to be a phuri dai. For the first time, Rani believed it. She excused herself from the young man with whom she had just danced, then slipped through another door onto the portico. She could hear low, whispering voices around the corner, behind a wide column at the edge of the garden. Dressed in such vivid finery, she dared venture no closer lest they see her. Rani strained her ear and eavesdropped. Brienne's voice she recognized at once.
“Rigo Torres has more lives than a cat. Yet again we have failed in our attempt to kill him. I was nearly captured by his father's trained savages on the north coast. What a debacle that was. These dispatches explain all in detail. I leave for Española tonight with your instructions for Reynard.”
Rani could not make out the mumbled reply of the corsair's superior, but Brienne bowed and turned smartly to leave, heading directly toward her hiding place! She slipped quickly inside the hall, then watched him pass by. He had not seen her, but neither had she been able to see the man with whom he talked. They were plotting to kill Benjamin's brother! Frantically Rani scanned the room, searching for Benjamin, but could not find him. He would probably not believe her anyway.
Brienne said he would sail this night. She knew where his ship was berthed. If only she were dressed in her simple Romani clothes, she could slip aboard and steal his letter of instruction from the shadowy man who was trying to have Rigo Torres killed. Then a slow smile began to spread across her mouth. “I have been thinking like a gadji,” she murmured, heading quickly toward the entry door. She would take the Fontaines' litter to the Lacydon, and slip from her finery inside the closed conveyance. Twould be a simple matter to bribe one of the bearers to loan her his tunic for a brief excursion. Assuming a most imperious air, Rani walked to the heavy carved entry door of the Torres palace and instructed the doorkeeper to summon the Fontaine litter bearers.
Within minutes she was being jostled inside the luxurious litter as the servants trotted rapidly toward the waterfront. Rani began to unfasten the jewelry from her elaborate coiffure, praying Olivia would forgive her this precipitous act. Suddenly the litter s
topped. Before she could stick her head from between the velvet curtains, the bearers sat the conveyance down. Sounds of a scuffle were followed by a muffled groan, then the curtains were flung open and the hawkish face of Luc Brienne peered inside.
“So, mademoiselle in scarlet, we meet at last. I remembered you from that day on the waterfront. What a curious little cat you were. But caraque always are. Now imagine my surprise when you appeared dressed in all this finery at the Torres palace, eavesdropping on me again, then following me.” He stroked his chin and cocked his head, studying her.
“I am not following you nor did I eavesdrop on you,” Rani replied, assuming her most haughty air.
“You really should choose a less vivid color if you wish to lurk in the shadows.” He chuckled, then sobered. “Whatever your game, I cannot leave you here to play it. Tis too dangerous for me.” He snapped his fingers and two burly seamen stepped into view, reaching inside the litter to pull Rani out.
“You cannot abduct me! Isaac Torres will have your head on a pike for this!”
Now he laughed in earnest as the two men wrestled with the struggling girl, dragging her from the litter. “I think Isaac Torres will reward me lavishly for ridding him of the caraque his nephew brought home from the Italian wars.” He turned to one of the seamen and said crisply, “Bring her—quietly.”
Rani let out a piercing shriek as the filthy paw of Brienne's first mate attempted to cover her mouth. She sank her teeth into his fingers until he howled, then spit in disgust at the noisome stench and taste of his skin. His companion acted swiftly after that, dealing her a sharp blow to her jaw with his fist, then scooping her unconscious body up and slinging her over his shoulder.
“Cover her with this cape,” Brienne said as he took the dark cloak from his shoulders. “That gown and jewelry mark her as a noblewoman.” He gave the fallen litter bearers each a kick, deciding they were dead. As he and his men walked swiftly downhill to the Lacydon, the corsair mulled over what to do with the enigmatic girl.
* * * *
In the Torres great hall, Benjamin searched in vain for Rani. Finally he was forced to seek out Olivia and admit he wanted to speak with the troublesome baggage.
His cousin's face was creased by a worried frown as she scanned the room. “I have not seen her for over an hour, but when I did not see you either, I assumed—”
“You assumed incorrectly. I was walking alone in the garden, trying to decide what to do about Rani. Last time I saw her she was surrounded by men, all ogling her as if she were a succulent sweetmeat on the banquet table.”
Olivia's expression softened. “You are jealous, foolish boy. Admit it.”
“She is my woman, Olivia. I will not have other men paying her court as if she were a maiden from a noble family, waiting for a marriage settlement to be set.”
Olivia's eyes snapped. “Why not? If you will not wed her, someone else will.”
“Only with the enticement of your money to sweeten the bargain. None of these men would take a penniless Romni to wife, especially when they learn she is no maid. I would not see her hurt.”
“You have already inflicted the hurt, Benjamin. Tis up to you to soothe it, for tis you she loves, none other.”
His eyes were wintery as he gazed at Olivia. “You meddle where you should not. Rani is my responsibility and I will care for her in my own way.”
Benjamin searched the hall, the gardens, then had servants search the house. Finally the doorman was brought to him. The frail old man stammered, “She had me summon the Fontaine litter, your honor, over an hour ago.”
“Where did she go?”
“I do not know, but the bearers headed toward the basilica.”
“Since I doubt she felt an urge to pray, I must assume she was headed to the harbor below.” Benjamin dismissed the old man, then sent a message to Noah Fontaine, telling his cousin's husband that he had gone in search of Rani and their conveyance.
The streets were silent but for Avarroes' hooves clicking on the cobblestones. He found the litter just past the deserted Basilica of St. Victor. Benjamin dismounted and examined the four sprawling litter bearers with increasing dread. They had been set upon by brigands from the look of it. His heart slammed in his chest as he searched the empty interior. Rani had been abducted! Then a faint moan from one of the men distracted him. Kneeling, he cradled the man's head on his leg, wishing he had thought to bring his medical supplies.
“Who has done this? Where is the lady?” He pressed a piece of velvet from the litter to the man's bleeding side, staunching the flow of blood only slightly.
“She...she had us taking her to the Lacydon...Le Revenant...a corsair's ship...he was waiting for us...” His voice trailed off as he coughed and struggled to breathe.
Benjamin heard the approach of the men whom Noah had sent to follow him. The bearer was dead. What of Rani? Why had she fled the feast in pursuit of a corsair? Had he been at the Torres' house earlier? Swinging up onto Avarroes, he called out to the party of armed men, “To the Lacydon!”
They arrived to find the berth of Le Revenant empty, the ship, like her namesake, a ghost vanishing in the fog that was rapidly hazing over the waning moon.
Benjamin stood on the wharf, his eyes fixed on the dim horizon. Rani was aboard the corsair's ship, bound for God knew where, at the mercy of a ruthless outlaw. He felt terrified and powerless, but most of all, he felt…love. I love her and now tis too late! She may never know.
Noah placed his hand on Benjamin's shoulder. “We will find out about this ship’s captain, Brienne. I have heard of him. It is said he sells illegal black slaves to plantations on Española. ”
Coming out of his trance, Benjamin turned to Fontaine. “Espanola! If she heard he had aught to do with my family, that might have sent Rani chasing after the bastard. Send out your best men at once, Noah. I must know where I am bound and that right quickly!”
“You will find her, Benjamin. Olivia would kill us both if we allowed a mere pirate to destroy all her carefully laid plans!”
* * * *
Rani awakened in a strange bed with a violently throbbing pain in her jaw. She sat up, shaking her head to clear her numbed senses, then felt the bed roll beneath her. Dim gray light filtered in the small windows on one side of the room. It was near dawn. What a queer place, she mused, more curious than afraid as she slid from the wide bed, accustoming herself to the swaying beneath her feet. The ceiling was low and the furniture, although luxurious, was sparse. Nothing lay loose but was fastened down, even the small round tub for bathing in the far corner.
A ship—she was aboard a ship. “Le Revenant, Brienne's pirate nao!” Rani fell back onto the thick, soft blue velvet coverlet as her eyes darted about the room, searching for a weapon.
Seeing nothing, she stood and gingerly made her way to the row of narrow windows. All she could see was the gray roll of endless ocean on the horizon. Brienne was taking her to Española with him—or to feed the sharks! She suppressed a shiver of revulsion as her old Romani fear of water came rushing back. How quickly all the veneer of gadje culture fell away when she faced a watery death!
“Get a hold of yourself, foolish coward,” she gritted from between clenched teeth as she turned from the window. She began to open drawers in the strange chest built into the wall. They were filled with clothing, expensive linen tunics, velvet doublets, fine woolen hose, all made for a small, slim man—the captain. She was in Brienne's own cabin. The lavish appointments of carved mahogany furniture and velvet hangings should have warned her.
“Yet if he planned to feed me to the fishes, why bother to put me in this fine place?”
She continued her search of a long table, with several neat stacks of paper carefully weighted, lying upon it. If only her lessons with Olivia had progressed farther. She struggled with the squiggly lines until a familiar word leaped out from one page—Torres! These were the instructions sent by Brienne's employer. The salutation was to one called Reynard. She turned the
page looking for a signature, but just then the cabin door opened.
Luc Brienne looked at the beautiful woman framed in the dim morning light, clutching Reynard's papers to her bosom. Her wide gold eyes studied his face, attempting to decide what he would do. He smiled affably. “I see you made yourself quite at home and have recovered from the tap Emile gave you.”
Rani placed the papers back on the table, but their rustling betrayed her trembling. “You plan to kill Rigo Torres and you steal from his father. Why?”
“Clever little piece, are you not?” He advanced a step, then stood with his arms crossed and legs wide apart, the stance of a seasoned seaman. “How comes it the sticky fingered little caraque the watch dragged off for molesting my poor boatswain suddenly appears at the Torres mansion dressed as a fine lady?”
“If you know so much about me, you answer,” she replied tartly, willing her thudding heart to slow.
He rubbed his chin, touching a thin white scar along one side. “You are Benjamin Torres' whore.”
“I am Benjamin Torres' betrothed!” Suddenly Rani realized she must convince Brienne of her value else she would become his whore—and that was the best fate she could expect.
He studied the lavish rubies and gold combs half untangled in her hair, then moved on to inspect the rest of her jewelry and the rich samite gown. “Someone has wrought quite a change in you, that much is obvious.”
“Benjamin's family has accepted our relationship. His cousin Olivia Fontaine has sponsored me. You will make dangerous enemies if you harm me, Captain.”
One brow raised rakishly. “Who is to know I have even taken you?”
“I am of far more value to you alive and unharmed than dead...Benjamin will pay you well for my release—but only if I am not soiled by your touch.” She watched his cold brown eyes harden and wondered if she had gone too far. “You or your loathsome crew. Keep me safe and you shall reap a great ransom.”
“Perhaps I shall at that. You may be just the lure I need. Nothing else has brought that accursed Spaniard into Reynard's hands. Perhaps his brother's betrothed will do so. Tis worth a try—to kill Rigo Torres.”