“I just wanted to check up on you. Is everything OK with you? Do you need anything?” asked Jelana whilst she tried to look past him into the waggon.
“You mean you wanted to see if I was alone!” complained Ivo and folded his arms over his chest.
“And?” his mother asked cuttingly. “Are you alone?”
Ivo stepped aside a little so that his mother could look passed him into the waggon.
“See for yourself! Believe me, I’m absolutely fine and I don’t need any women in my domain. – And another thing, mother – finally get the obsession out of your head that I’m going to take myself a wife! I can do without a nagging woman making life hard for me. – And don’t start threatening me! I believe a lot of things, but definitely not that you have the power to make my testicles rot. I’m not father! You can’t intimidate me with such prattle!”
Jelana started. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He had never spoken to her like that before. He seemed to be really very angry. She could see the veins pulsating in his neck. His face was a closed mask and his eyes looked cold and unforgiving. She had seen this look in him before, but never when addressing her.
“Go now, mother and leave me in peace,” he said, already a little more softly, as he saw the concern in his mother’s eyes – he loved his mother, even if he otherwise did not have much respect for women.
Jelana turned, hurt, and walked away.
Deep in thought her son watched her walk away. “Come back in, Ben!” he called to his dog.
Once the dog had gone into the waggon Ivo closed the door.
Chapter 8
I was some distance from Ivo’s waggon but still heard most of the conversation between Ivo and his mother. When Ivo had gone back into his waggon I sighed. Why ever was he so sinister? He was the exact opposite of his brother, being impolite, coarse and brutal. I wondered whether there was a reason for his behaviour or whether he was simply like this by nature. Some people were apparently born bad, but most became the people they were because of certain events. What could it have been that had made Ivo into this inconsiderate and wild man? He should not be of interest to me, and he was probably even very dangerous, and yet, filled with curiosity, I was creeping closer to his waggon.
Carefully I peeped through the little window, as the shutter was slightly open. Inside it was dimly-lit, with only a single candle barely lighting the waggon. Ivo was sitting on a stool, filling a pipe. His dog, Ben, was lying at his feet, chewing on a bone. Ivo’s upper body was naked and his dark skin shimmered, golden in the flickering light of the candle. I wondered what it must feel like to touch the skin on his pronounced muscles and also his dark chest hair that tapered down into a narrow strip. Shocked at my own thoughts I moved away from the window; in doing so I stepped on a twig. The snapping sound cut through the silence of the night like the shot of a pistol, and I cursed my clumsiness. Immediately the sound of a dog barking came from within the waggon, as well as the thud of footsteps. I froze, my heart beating wildly, then, just as I had decided to run away, the door opened and Ivo appeared in the doorway. The dog jumped down the steps and blocked my way. I felt as if I had been caught out in an unpleasant way.
“What are you doing here?” Ivo barked at me.
I blushed and looked down in embarrassment. My cheeks were burning and my legs threatened to give way beneath me. What a disgrace. I wished that I could be swallowed up by the earth beneath me. How had I ever managed to get myself into such a situation again?
“I … I was just passing, by chance, and then …,” I began, stuttering.
“By chance!” he said, his voice steeped in sarcasm, and I blushed even more.
“Well …,” I searched helplessly for a plausible explanation. Of course, I did not find one. His waggon was a long way from the camp, and it was night time. I had no business – no business whatsoever – to be here, and absolutely not at this hour. I could hardly tell him that curiosity had driven me here. I had followed his mother as she crept through the darkness of the camp. I had simply been curious as to where she was going at such a late hour. Part of me had already thought, of course, that she would be going to Ivo, and as I did not know where his waggon was, I seized the opportunity to perhaps find out.
Ivo slowly came down the steps towards me. His face was in the dark, which made him look even more menacing. I almost expected his eyes to shine in the dark, as with a beast of prey or a daemonic creature from hell. I suppressed the ridiculous urge to cross myself.
When he was standing right in front of me I tried to step away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me with force towards him so that I collided with his muscle-hardened body. I was breathless from shock and the collision. My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came from my lips.
“Are you looking for a little adventure?” he murmured in a deep voice.
A shudder made my body tremble. I shook my head vigorously. What sort of a situation had I put myself into here? I was a long way from the camp. No one would come to my aid even if I screamed.
“In that case you shouldn’t come here. You can’t be thinking that I’m just going to let you go. No one snoops around in my private life without punishment. – You must get that.”
“Please,” I gasped, breathlessly, and tried to pull away from him. My heart was pounding madly. Panic rendered me speechless.
A hand was placed far too intimately on my bottom. I became hot and felt strangely weak. Something hard was pressing against my stomach. I had a vague idea of what this was about, and I stiffened. – I had to get out of this dangerous situation immediately, or it would end horribly.
Determined, I pushed my hands against his upper body to hold him away from me, but I had not counted on the sensual effect that was ignited at the touch of his naked skin. The contrast between the warm, silky skin and the wiry hair on his chest was bewildering, and I gasped for air. I could feel the movement of his muscles under my hands. I closed my eyes. In desperation I tried to take control of my feelings. I could not do it. I was far too inexperienced, and so unsettled by his proximity that I could barely think clearly.
“Did your mother not tell you that it’s dangerous to run after men?” he murmured into my ear. “You really have been very naughty and – foolish!”
“I didn’t … I … I hadn’t …” My brain could not form a single proper sentence. I was speechless with panic and fine beads of sweat appeared on my forehead.
“Shh! Shh! Shh!” he said. “Don’t you now try to talk yourself out of this. You want to know? – You want to know what it’s like to play with the beast?”
Before I could respond with anything he pressed his mouth against mine. His kiss was hard – punitive. Quite different from the way I had imagined kissing to be. Nothing about this man was gentle. I felt helpless and fragile. I had no strength left to defend myself and so I fell against him. A hand had moved onto my breasts and it slipped inside my dress. I convulsed as he twisted my nipple. The pain shot like lightening through my body and caused a tingling heat in my sex.
‘Oh God, what am I doing! Stop! No! No! That can’t be …’
He suddenly pushed me away from him; I staggered and fell to the ground. With tears in my eyes I stared at him. My heart felt as if it was about to stop beating and I felt sick. I could hear my blood pulsating through me. Confused, I tried to grasp what had happened. Why did he do that? First he kissed me, and then he pushed me away.
“Run!” he snarled, threateningly. “Run, if your virtue is important to you, otherwise you’ll lose it very soon.”
Shocked and shaking I gathered myself up and hurried away, covered in tears. Blindly I staggered through the night. My heart was beating as if it would burst and I found it hard to breath. Nevertheless I ran on without faltering. I felt humiliated and hurt. But what was worse was that I was completely ready to give myself over to him. His brutal embrace had released something inside my body that I did not understand. I felt horribly wretched.
Bre
athing heavily I sat down beneath a tree and leant against the trunk. I kept on trying to work out what had just happened. Why had I even gone to his waggon? What had driven me to do that? Was it really as he had said? – Did I want to challenge the beast? I had gained an idea as to what that meant, and on the one hand it frightened me, but on the other hand it aroused me. With that in mind I put a finger to my lips. They felt swollen and were still burning a little from his rough stubble. I vigorously wiped my mouth with my hand, as if I could thus rub away his kiss. From now on I would stay away from this scoundrel. Decisively I stood up and hurried on.
Chapter 9
9th July 1888
The Sinti summer camp lay in a blooming meadow by a winding stream. I had now been with the travellers for more than a week, and although most people kept out of my way, I felt happy. It was the freedom that fascinated me and the carefreeness. On the camp everyone seemed to do as they wished: now that no distance needed to be covered each person arranged his daily routine as he pleased. I had occupied myself during the last few days helping Grandmother Aneta. Together we gathered herbs, prepared ointments and tinctures, and stole wild honey from the bees. I liked these tasks and I learnt eagerly which herb helped with gout and which one reduced a fever. In this way I was also distracting myself from thinking about Ivo. Since our night time confrontation I had, to my relief, not seen him. He was abiding by his father’s decree and keeping away from the camp. I also made sure that I did not go near the area in which his waggon stood. Nothing in the world could make me want another confrontation with him. However, I could not help my thoughts wandering to him when I was not occupied, nor him slipping into my dreams at night.
Sergio continued to make a great deal of effort as my suitor. He brought me flowers and little gifts, showed me the area and talked to me about the clan and its way of life. I was fascinated by it all. I began to envy these people their free life. They had no grand houses or estates, but they also had less to lose. Their home was always with them and their land was everywhere and nowhere.
In contrast, how oppressive my own responsibility seemed to me. Certainly, I loved Blue Hall with its servants and extensive lands, yet I wondered what it would be like to simply give all of that up to live a simple life. My greedy uncle would be very happy to hear that, and it was precisely that thought that pulled me back down to earth. – No! I would not simply hand over my inheritance to this scrounger! Never! As happy as I felt here with these simple-living people, my place was elsewhere. I was the mistress of Blue Hall and I had a responsibility to all the people to whom my family’s estate and businesses had given work and a place to live. This here was not my life.
As romantic as it seemed to me at the moment, the Sinti had hardly any rights and they were often accused of things that they had not committed simply because they were gypsies. Through Sergio I had by now learnt enough to recognise the negative side of the apparently free life. No, this was not my place. Blue Hall was my home and I would not simply give up the estate and the businesses that my father had worked so hard for. However, for as long as I could not avail myself of my inheritance, I would enjoy the hospitality of the Sinti, and once I was in possession of my wealth I would show my gratitude for the help that these people had bestowed upon me.
“Are you dreaming, girl?” Grandmother Aneta’s voice pulled me from my ruminations.
Guiltily I looked up into the old woman’s wrinkled face. I got up and straightened out my skirts, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, Grandmother, I was just thinking about … my home.”
I suddenly had a lump in my throat and a few tears rolled over my cheeks.
Grandmother Aneta bent down and felt for the herbs that I had collected in my basket. She took a little out and held it to her nose. Her expression brightened as she breathed in the aromatic smell.
“Ah, you’ve found some. – Sage is very rare in this area. Too little sun. Did you leave some there so that it can multiply?”
“Yes, I did. A third, as you told me.”
“Well done, my child. Now come, we still need comfrey and I know where we can find some.”
*
We walked along the bank of the stream and crossed it at a level spot where two large, flat stones in the water made it possible to cross safely – importantly, they were dry to step on. Grandmother Aneta seemed to know the spot very well as her feet found the stones with no problem and in three confident steps she was on the other bank. I walked behind her with the basket. On this side of the stream the land rose steeply for a good six feet. The slope was covered in blackberries and undergrowth, but there was a trodden path to the top. I was amazed at how light-footedly the old, blind woman climbed the rise.
“We have to go to the group of trees over there,” said Grandmother Aneta when we reached the top.
I looked to where she was pointing. It was still quite some distance away, the ground was rising and it was a little rough. I admired the stamina that Grandmother Aneta possessed despite her great age. She really was a tough person equipped with a resolute spirit.
“Come on, girl. We don’t want to dawdle,” said the old woman, and I had to smile. Yes, she was an incredible person!
When we had gone a little way Grandmother Aneta suddenly groaned and held her hand to her chest.
“What’s wrong with you, Grandmother?” I asked, worried. The exertion had clearly been too much for her after all.
“My old heart, child. Let me rest here a while. Go to the group of trees and there you’ll find comfrey, a plant with big, long, hairy leaves. Dig out a few of the black roots but don’t damage the rest, and fill in the hole that you dig afterwards. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Grandmother. I’ll fetch the roots. Rest here a little. – But can I really leave you here alone?”
I did not have a good feeling and I was very worried. I liked the old lady and I would miss her dearly if she …
I could not bear to think about it.
“Perhaps, another time, we should …” I began.
“No, I’m OK again. Go now!” she interrupted me.
She sat down on a fallen tree trunk and waved me away. I looked at her doubtfully, torn between wanting to follow her wish and the bad feeling I had about leaving her alone.
“Now, go. I’m fine now.”
Sighing, I set off.
*
The closer I got to my goal, the more clearly I could see that someone was sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree trunk. With a sickening feeling I went a little closer. The person had not noticed me yet – the head was lowered and the brim of the brown cap was covering the person’s face. It was a man who seemed to be making a nap in the shade of the tree.
I stopped, indecisive. What should I do now? Grandmother Aneta was expecting me to bring her the roots, but I felt a little trepidation rise within me. Who could know what sort of a man this was? He may do something to me. I looked at him, dubious. Somehow he looked familiar to me. Perhaps it was one of the Sinti from the camp. A slight hunch crept into my mind that made my heart race frantically. – Could it be Ivo? The stature fitted, and the cap hid his face and hair. I was too far away to be sure that it was not him. With weak knees I quietly went closer and paused behind a hazel-bush that came up to my chest. Now that I was only a few yards away I was fairly certain that the sleeping man was Ivo. What should I do now? I really did not want to come into contact with him now. Why did he have to take a nap right here? I felt thoroughly sick with anxiety. I began to shake and I had to kneel down so that I did not lose my balance.
“Why are you creeping around again like a thief?” he suddenly asked. “Do you want more after all?”
I started with shock and uttered a small cry. I had been so sure that he was asleep and had not noticed me.
The man raised his head and pushed the cap out of his face. Yes, it was indeed Ivo looking at me in his particular, unabashed way from his black, unfathomable eyes.
A blush of embarrassmen
t shot into my face and I was tempted to duck down behind the hazel-bush and hide – which, of course, made no sense now. I so very much wished for a hole in which to disappear right now, so embarrassing was that recent meeting. My mouth felt unpleasantly dry and I desperately looked for the right words.
“I … for Grandmother Aneta I’m to … roots, err I’m to fetch comfrey,” I stammered with embarrassment.
Unconcerned Ivo looked to his side where the plants that Grandmother Aneta had described were growing plentifully.
“So come here and fetch them – your roots,” he said derisively. “Or are you afraid that I could finish what we recently started?” There was a dangerous sparkle in his dark eyes.
I nervously pushed a strand of my blond hair out of my face. I was behaving really foolishly. I was standing there as timid as a deer just because his presence made my heart race so much that I was afraid that he might hear it.
‘Pull yourself together, Graham! You’re making yourself look ridiculous. Fetch the damned roots and then leave!’ I chided myself.
Decisively I stepped from behind the hazel-bush, walked with trembling knees to the place where the comfrey was growing and began to dig for the roots, my face completely red. I was fully aware of Ivo’s penetrating look and a tingle rose up through my body. Hopefully he could not see the state I was in. Were my nipples showing through my clothing? I felt that I was getting redder if that was even possible. I could not understand this bizarre attraction that he awakened in me. Not only was he far below my standing, he was also boorish and frightening. His entire aura signalled danger and yet I felt like a child who, in fascination, was reaching out to touch fire despite knowing that it was forbidden. Had he not shown me clearly enough that it was advisable to keep out of his way? He had taught me a lesson and yet I did not seem to have learnt anything from it. He was actually the exact opposite of what I had always dreamed of in a husband. He was neither a gentleman, nor was he gentle. Never before had I met a man who had earned the name Devilmore than him.
The Untamable Rogue Page 6