“Did he have much on him?”
“Yes. He had some rings and some gold and silver.”
“Good. Give me my share.”
“No, you’ll just lose it gambling.”
“That’s my business. You give it to me now. Or next time you’ll see how well you can find that potion that can put a man out so handily.”
Lupa sighed and pulled out the bag of coins and rings. She kept the bag with the silver brush, comb, and flask hidden in the folds of her skirts. Wearily she counted out the coins, handing Rez his share. He slipped them into a bag at his waist, grinning in the moonlight. “Well done, lovely. Well done. Now, come on. I want to show you something.” He led her from the side door of the inn to the stables, where a wagon was already hitched to two horses. “How do you like those horses?” Fabin said
Lupa frowned in confusion. “Why, they’re brown. What happened to the white ones?”
“That’s them.” Fabin laughed. “At least until the first rain. Whoever buys them will get a shock.”
“Why did you go to all that trouble?”
“Because I want to sell them, and as soon as your jilted lover in there wakes up, he’ll have the law out looking for white horses. By that time we’ll have sold them and have the money. Come on, now.”
“Where are we going?”
“London, I guess.”
“No, let’s go to Bath.”
They argued, and Fabin finally said, “I suppose there are plenty of pickings in Bath for a woman with your looks. And I like the gambling there.”
“If we get any money, you’ll lose it all gambling. You’re no gambler, Rez. When will you realize that?”
“Shut your mouth, Lupa! We split down the middle. I don’t ask you what you do with your money, so keep your mouth shut about my cards.” Fabin grinned at her in the moonlight. “I’ve got to have one fault, lovely. What if I was to die? I’ve got to have at least one sin to repent or Saint Peter will find my arrival a bore.”
She laughed at that. “You’ve got more than one sin to repent, Fabin.”
He merely laughed at her and said, “Here. Put that stuff inside. You can ride in there if you want to. The team is rested.”
Lupa agreed. She climbed into the back of the wagon and arranged some of her clothes and blankets into a makeshift bed. She was tired, for she had missed all of one night’s sleep and part of another. She waited until she felt the wagon sway as Fabin mounted to the seat and listened as he spoke to the horses. They moved forward at a slow walk. One of the wagon’s wheels had a squeak, but it had a rhythm about it, and the sound of the horses’ hooves made a counterpoint. Closing her eyes, she thought about the haul that they had made and what might be ahead for them in Bath, but then she put it out of her mind. Rez would figure it out. He always did
Rez Fabin was good for her. He was protection, for one thing. And a lone woman needed that. As she grew more sleepy, she thought of how they had made their way across the south coast. They made a good team. She drew men by her exotic looks, and if any of them tried to hurt her, Rez Fabin was there to prevent that. It was a hard life and a dangerous one, but Lupa dropped off to sleep thinking that at least for tonight all was well
Lupa slept deeply, even though the road was rough. But when she heard Rez calling out to the horses, she pulled herself up and looked around. “What’s the matter? Why are you stopping?”
“Man down beside the road. He looks dead, but maybe he’s got something worth taking.”
At once Lupa rose and swung over the side. She waited until Fabin came near with a lantern in his hand. The moon had grown brighter, it seemed, and she could clearly see the man in the pearlescent light. After a nod from Rez, she carefully approached
She leaned over and waited for the man to move. Was he even breathing? “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, but no answer came. She drew her knife and with her free hand she rolled the man over. He was limp, and the only sound he made was a painful groan. Lupa leaned forward and studied his face. She had become an expert in reading the expressions of men, for she had seen the most vile and evil things in them since she had come of age. This man looked different. His face, she saw, was not harsh, and it was hardly the face of a working man
“Is he dead?”
“No, he’s not dead.” Lupa sheathed her knife and picked up the man’s hand. His palms were softer than the hands of a working man, and yet he had calluses, as if he were a fighting man. A soldier? Fabin drew alongside Lupa and stared down. “What’s the matter with him? Is he drunk?”
“I don’t think so. I think he’s hurt.”
“Get his goods, Lupa, and let’s get on with it.”
Lupa leaned forward and smelled the man’s breath. “He’s not drunk.” She put her hand behind him to move him, and he groaned again. She felt something damp and rolled him to one side. His back was bleeding. She let him roll back again with another groan and searched through his jerkin pulling out a packet containing a letter along with a small bag of money
Fabin reached forward and took the ring from the man’s finger. “Any coinage?”
“Yes. But hold the lantern close. There’s a letter here.” She scanned the old, worn letter and then said, “It says here this man’s name is Brandon Winslow. His father is a nobleman.” She had been taught to read as a child, but Rez had not
“Oh, this one’s a lord, is he?”
“Well, his father is.”
“Let’s get away from here, Lupa. If someone found us with ’im, it’d be prison for us and maybe the noose.”
But Lupa continued to study the letter. “We’re taking him with us,” she said abruptly
“Not bloody likely!” Fabin stared at her. “What do you want to do that for? Get his bag of money and let’s go.”
“No, not without him.”
Rez hesitated. “He’s a pretty fellow, but that don’t mean nothing to you.”
“I’ll find a way to use him.” Lupa smiled, and there was cruelty in her expression. “I’ll use him, Rez, like I do all men.”
“He’s a son of a rich man. He could be trouble.”
“No. You’ll see. He’ll be a benefit to us both. Now, come on. Help me get him into the coach.”
The sharp pain in his back brought Brandon out of the dark pit he had fallen into. He’d had bad dreams and at times thought he heard voices, but he could not identify any of them. He tried to remember what had happened, but he caught only fitful brief scenes, mere flickers in his memory. He remembered leaving the camp and getting on the road. He remembered growing feverish and stopping and his back hurting more and more. Now it frightened him that he didn’t know where he was. Try and try as he might, he could not remember where he was or how he had got here
He knew that he was in a bed. When he opened his eyes for a moment, the room seemed to move. He closed them quickly and realized that his back was not as painful as it had been and that there was something cooling on it. He opened his eyes again and found himself looking into a face
It was a woman. He tried to think if he knew her. Her hair was as black as ebony, and her eyes were large, dark, and well-shaped. She was wearing a dress made of some emerald-green material, and around her head was a crimson neckerchief that had slipped back to reveal her raven hair. He watched her move and then heard the sound of water pouring. Suddenly he was aware of a raging thirst. Gently she lifted his head and said, “Here. Drink.” He greedily guzzled the water. It ran out of his mouth and down his neck, but he ignored it. When he had drained the mug, she set it aside and then turned back to stare at him. “So, you are awake. How do you feel?”
“Where—where is this place?” he managed to ask. His lips were still dry, and his tongue seemed to have swollen. “What am I doing here?”
“My . . . cousin and I found you on the road. This is the first inn we came to. It’s called the Silver Fox. You want some more water?”
“Yes.” He drank again. She was close enough for him to smell a st
rong scent, like violets. She put the mug down and then leaned over him. He guessed she was in her late twenties. She had golden olive skin, and her eyebrows were beautifully arched. There was a fullness in her lips that any red-blooded man would find stirring—not that Brandon was in any condition to do anything about it. “Why did you bother to pick me up?”
“You would have died if we had left you there. Are you hungry?”
“Not very.”
“You’ll have to eat. My . . . cousin will soon bring us food.”
He stared at her, and then memory came flooding back all at once. How he had made a fool of himself over Alice Poplin—a worthless woman if there ever was one—how the major had seen him beaten, how Caleb had had to see to his care. What a mess he’d made of things
What now? Where? He could not go home. He could never go home again—not until he had redeemed himself
He looked up at the woman, who was watching him intently. “What’s your name?” he asked wearily
“Lupa.”
“Just Lupa? No last name?”
“Lupa is enough for now.”
He stared at her and started to respond, but at that moment the door opened and a man came in bearing food. He was strongly built, dark-skinned, and had gold earrings dangling from both ears. Brandon said in wonder, “You’re gypsies.”
The man laughed. “Well, he’s got his sense back at least. Yes, we are gypsies. Here. Something to eat. I’ll add it to what you owe us. Let me help you up.”
Brandon struggled to sit upright. Surprised, he said, “My back is better.”
“I’m a healing woman. I put some ointment on it. We’ll put it on for several days, and you’ll be well.”
“Who gave you such a lashing?” the man asked
“Don’t ask so many questions, Rez,” Lupa said. She handed Brandon a bowl and asked, “Can you feed yourself?”
“Of course.” He took the bowl and began to eat rapidly. He finished the soup and felt better. As Lupa took the bowl he asked, “Why did you bother with me?”
“I like good-looking men.” He stared at her, not knowing what to make of that. “I read the letter from your father. He’s a great lord, is he?”
“He has a title, yes.” He stared at them. The man looked like a villain. As for the woman, she had an exotic beauty that men would fight for. Suddenly a thought came that amused him. “Well, I was running away from one trouble, and it seems that I’ve landed in more.”
“What makes you think we’ll get you in trouble?”
“You look like trouble to me,” Brandon said
“We’ll help you, then you can help us,” Lupa said quickly
Brandon’s mind was working now. He shook his head and said as firmly as he could, “You won’t get a reward from my family for helping me.”
Lupa touched the letter. “He sounds like a good man. He wants to help you.”
“He is a good man, but I’m not. That letter is quite old. And much has . . . transpired since he wrote it.”
Fabin laughed suddenly. “That’s coming right out with it. What have you done that’s so bad? How’d you get your back torn up like that?”
“It’s not a very original story. I was a soldier in the army, and my commanding officer had a witless but pretty wife. She liked me, and the major caught us. He managed to arrange it so I’d get fifty lashes and be drummed out of the army.”
“Were you a good soldier?” Lupa asked curiously
“Yes. But apparently I was better with women and playing the fool.”
Lupa laughed, and her eyes seemed to glow. “Most men don’t know that until it’s too late.”
Brandon cocked his head. “I had some money, but I’d wager you’ve taken that, so I can’t pay you. So . . . what is it you want?”
Lupa leaned closer. “You can go home and get some money, and then you can pay us.”
“I won’t do that. Once my parents know what I have done, they will disown me.” He smiled, but there was no amusement in it. “You know, I met Princess Elizabeth once.”
“Who’s she?” Lupa asked curiously
“Well, she may be queen of England one day if enough people die. She asked me if I was a good man, and I said, ‘No, I was born in sin from my mother’s womb.’”
“Me too,” Fabin grinned. “We’re brothers, then.”
“We’ll help you, Brandon,” Lupa said. “I’ll find a way to put you to good use.”
“That’s probably what you do with all men.”
“You’re right about that.” Fabin grinned, a pirate among comrades
“So you’d use me, would you, Lupa?” Brandon asked, eyeing her
“Yes. I would.” She stared back at him
“Well, you’re an honest woman—which is rare.”
She reached out and put her hand on his chest. “Continue to be honest with me and I shall be honest with you.”
“I’m in debt to you,” Brandon said soberly. “Rest assured I’ll pay my debts, Lupa.”
The weather had warmed up, strangely enough, during the two weeks that Brandon had convalesced at the Silver Fox Inn. Lupa had taken good care of him. She sat now at a table, watching a card game between Fabin and Brandon. He had insisted she teach him Spanish, and she had been amazed by how quickly he picked up the language. She asked him, “How can you learn so quickly?”
“Always found it easy to learn languages,” he replied
“Which ones do you know?”
“Latin. French. A little German. A little Greek.”
From time to time, in the midst of the game, she would give him a Spanish phrase or word for something, and he seemed to lock it into a box that he called a memory. She noticed with disgust that Fabin was down to the last of his money, gradually losing to Brandon. Finally he lost his last farthing, cursed, and threw the cards on the table. “You are lucky, Englishman!”
“Sometimes I am, but if that doesn’t work, I cheat. I’m very good at cheating, Rez. Never been caught, at least at cards. Now, you’re a cheater,” Brandon said. “But, Rez, you’re not a good cheater. Look. You mark the ends of the cards with your thumbnail. By the time we had gone through the deck, I had every one of them memorized, so I know what you had as well as you did.” He laughed and shoved all the money back. “Never gamble with me, Rez.”
Lupa laughed. “If you can convince him that he is a sorry gambler, you’d be doing him a favor. I’ve never been able to.”
Brandon gingerly leaned forward in his chair. “We can’t go on like this.”
“What do you mean?” Lupa asked
“You and Fabin paying all the bills. I’m nothing but a lazy loafer.”
“We’ll get our return, in spades.”
Brandon looked at her in amusement. “How will you do that?”
“We’ll set you up as a rich man, buy you expensive clothes. You’ll use your ring, and we’ve got some more. When we get to Bath we’ll get you into a game with rich men. Do you think you can win?”
“I always win.”
“Will you do it, then?” Lupa demanded
“I owe you, Lupa, and I have one virtue. Probably only one. I always pay my debts.”
“Good,” Fabin said. “I’ll go see about getting you some expensive clothes. You’ll have to make quite a splash in Bath. Be aware, they’re pretty sharp there. If they find you cheating, they’ll cut your throat.”
“They won’t catch me.” He picked up the cards and began shuffling them as Fabin left the room. He shuffled expertly, fanning the cards and shuffling them again. He noted that Lupa was staring at him. He put the cards down and leaned back, wincing as his healing back met the back of the chair. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
The Englishman was a puzzle to Lupa. She knew a lot about men, but this one did not seem to be like any other. Finally she said, “Why have you not yet tried to make love to me, Brandon?”
Brandon frowned and glanced away from her with some embarrassment. “I don’t know. I�
�m pretty sure it’s not because I’ve become a good man. I’m not good and never was. But you saved my life, Lupa. I’m already tied to you for that. I don’t . . . wish for another reason.”
Lupa stared at him. The answer was not what she had expected. He had the most unusual face. He was handsome, of course, with a wedge-shaped face and wide mouth. A generous mouth, she thought. His eyes were a shade of blue she had never seen, very light, almost like the cornflowers that appear on the hills in the spring. His nose was straight, and his face bore no scars. His hair was a rich auburn color. But it was not his good looks that troubled her. She had founded her whole philosophy on the fact that all men were pigs, only out to use a woman, but Brandon, although he’d had many opportunities, had never once offered to put a hand on her. His answer disturbed her. “I don’t think there are any good men,” she said at last
“There are some good men, Lupa. I know some. And some good women too. I’m simply not one of them, but my father is and my uncle. What you need to find is a good man.”
“No chance of that.”
“You’ll find one. Now, teach me some more Spanish.”
“Well, do I look respectable?”
Lupa studied Brandon, who was dressed in his new clothes. “You look very handsome and very prosperous.”
“Just don’t lose our money.” Fabin grinned. “If you do, I’ll cut your throat. We’ve put everything we had in getting you a stake together and those rich clothes.”
Lupa walked around him and leaned over to pull his sleeves down. “I can’t believe I set this up. It took all our money. I must be losing my mind to trust a man.”
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