Gypsy Trail

by West, Nicole Leigh

  “I love you, Claudia. I should have captured you in a jar when I first met you, to keep you safe under my bed. A bed that I currently don’t have.” His voice broke mid-sentence and he lowered his face into his hands, quickly wiping away the evidence of his pain.

  “And I know you don’t need looking after. I want to look after you. And looking after you means making sure you’re safe, not putting you in danger for my own selfish reasons. Just know, that the only way you can ever, ever get rid of me is if you order me away. It’s an old gypsy curse. Pride.” He smiled, ruefully. “I promise I’ll be back. And a gypsy promise lasts many lifetimes.”

  “Brishan, I love you too,” she whispered, forcing her freezing hand to touch his shoulder. She wanted to throw herself on him, to beg, to scream, to force him to take her with him.

  Lips caressed her eyelids, moving slowly down her cheeks towards her mouth. His tongue pressed gently inside her mouth, moving ever so slowly as he pulled her close. A strong hand gripped her hips, forcing her into him, her pelvis against his, her breasts scraping his chest. He groaned into her mouth, hands moving in circles over her back as they swayed lightly side to side, in a desperate, sensual dance.

  He hugged her to him, pulling her face down to his shoulder; so tightly she felt all breath leave her body. Just as quickly, he let go, staring at her with tortured eyes as he edged away towards the hills. She cried, silently now, standing with her arms by her sides, watching as he moved into the blackness.

  Chapter Eight

  The Butterfly Queen

  Claudia stared at the wooden panelling on the walls of the formal dining room. The pretty dust particles she loved were nowhere to be seen today. Edward, with his dislike of open windows, had robbed her of even that. He preferred to eat under the glow of the chandeliers.

  Is it dinner or tea time?

  Days had turned into nights and nights into days. It’d made no difference to Claudia as she’d drifted around the chateau, eating, sleeping and talking to her captors, when she absolutely had to. She was worrying, for the gypsies safety, waiting, for her family to return. She knew they would.

  Wouldn’t they?

  Margaret had moved back to her rooms in the servant’s quarters and Lenny back to the gardener’s cottage. It pained Claudia to see their wistful glances towards each other as they went about the daily errands. Although, she’d often caught Lenny winking and slyly tapping the housekeeper on her ample backside.

  The days inched by, with the same routine, leading her into boredom and lethargy. The gypsies had left her weeks or maybe months ago now — time held no meaning and she refused to keep count of the miserable seconds.

  Each day, they ate breakfast early, followed by a walk around the grounds: Claudia trailing behind the usurpers as they discussed politics with much animation.

  They’d resigned themselves to being called Grace and Edward. They’d had to. She’d simply refused anything else; could not even fathom calling them names indicating love and affection.

  And refusing gave her a strange, new sense of confidence.

  At midday, every midday, Margaret served dinner to the threesome in the formal dining room and Claudia stared at the walls rather than their faces, reliving endless days and nights sitting in the same chair, all alone but for Snow-White and Rose-Red. Now, she had company, she’d always wanted company.

  And she hated it.

  The afternoons were set aside for reading. Study books for Claudia. Edward worked on correspondence with his London office in a sitting room now strewn with computers, fax machines and all manner of equipment Claudia rapidly learned to use.

  And Grace moaned about the absence of her social circle.

  They were not cruel; these pretend parents who’d invaded and destroyed her life when it had only just begun. Edward was cold, but polite, very interested in her education and a constant presence while she completed her schoolwork by correspondence. He’d enrolled her with a school in London and she spoke with a teacher each day via the computer. It wasn’t bad, at the very least it meant contact with the outside world.

  Grace looked nervous whenever she spoke to Claudia; her eyes twitched and her fingers trailed over her neck, sometimes gliding over her red lips, drawing attention to their plump softness. When she was around Edward, Grace oozed confidence, complimenting him and tossing her hair, but turning away each time he reached for her. Edward stared at her mother like a puppy stares at its owner.

  No explanations of the past were given, nor were they asked for. Claudia no longer cared. Besides, Grace’s old letters to Dane had explained enough. She didn’t want to revisit any of those feelings. Didn’t need to. Not now that she belonged to a family of her own. A family that would return soon.

  Yes, soon.

  A rush of blood flooded her face and tears pricked her eyes. It didn’t matter how many times she told herself, or Lenny told her, or Margaret told her, that the gypsies needed to leave that night, that they’d had no choice. It didn’t stop the clenching of her heart, the aching in her stomach. It was leave or die, Lenny said. But the gut-wrenching feeling that she’d been abandoned, yet again, lingered on every minute of every day.

  That feeling ate at her stomach now as she sat at the dining table, picking at roast vegetables and letting Edward’s words wash over her.

  “Claudia, are you listening? Your mother and I are most happy with the decision and you’ll meet him this week.”

  She looked up at her pretend father, frowning as she tried to replay what he’d been saying. “Meet who?”

  Edward stared at her, as he often did, with raised eyebrows and a tight-lipped smile. Claudia was used to it. Mr Campbell had often looked at her in much the same way. She tried very hard to focus on his face; helped by looking at a small bit of food stuck at the corner of his mouth.

  “Preston Myers.”

  Claudia glanced at her mother. Grace nibbled on a small piece of pumpkin like a nervous rabbit. She smiled as she chewed, the expression never reaching her eyes, and put her fork down neatly by the plate.

  “Claudia, Edward has been trying to explain that we feel you’d make a fine match with Preston. He’s the son of one of London’s best architects, Ralph Myers, an old family friend.” Grace cocked her head to one side and smiled at Edward. “It seems like only yesterday that we went to Preston’s christening.”

  The words sank in. Claudia’s cutlery clattered onto the plate. “A fine match? You mean as a husband?”

  “Why, yes. We understand you’ll need to enter society first and find your feet. But, Claudia, you’re not in such an unusual position, many children of wealthy families are sent abroad to live, study and the like, especially over the last few years, considering the economic turmoil.”

  Edward shook his head and smiled at Grace. Yes, he seemed to be saying, your mother’s right, it is the overriding factor of life.

  She felt laughter rise in her throat and welcomed the relief from her recent lethargy. The thought became almost unbearably funny and she felt as if she were floating above the table, looking down at these absurd adults with their plans to take over her life after mere weeks of being in it. Claudia clutched her napkin, pressing her quivering lips into it.

  “It’s no reason to cry, I assure you. He’s a very presentable man with lovely manners.” Grace moved her head, making the blonde waves fluff about her face. “After those ruffians you were housing, I’m quite sure you think all young men are hideous, but that is not the case.”

  Claudia dabbed at her eyes, pleased with her mother’s poor perception. Mr Campbell had never approved of her sudden giggling fits, Edward and Grace would no doubt feel the same way. She was learning to lie, but…why, when she’d so recently learnt of truth and justice and love? She carefully formulated her next words.

  “Well, it would be nice to make a friend, I haven’t had many opportunities to do so, as you can imagine.” She watched closely for a reaction, but the finely veiled accusation was lost on Grace and
Edward. “But as I’m not even seventeen yet, I don’t think a husband would be appropriate.” This time she did laugh, unable to stop herself.

  Grace and Edward smiled now; no shock, no disgust registering on their faces.

  “Yes,” said Edward, his head cocked to look at Claudia. “We forget you’ve had little interaction with people your own age and I must say, despite your advanced education and obvious intelligence, you’re still child-like in your outlook.” Edward looked to Grace and they shared a brief smile. “That will all be rectified when we return to London. If you’re a good girl, you’ll find that many opportunities await you,” Edward said, wiping breadcrumbs from his chin.

  Claudia remembered Dane’s delight in her child-like enthusiasm. Edward wants to smother it. If I’m a good girl? What does that even mean? I don’t want their stupid help. Just say it to them, just say it. The sharp twinge of resentment felt good, she began to feel alive, as though she could fight off everything they wanted to throw at her.

  Grace and Edward still smiled, as if they offered her the world’s greatest gift and she should drop to the floor and kiss their feet in thanks.

  She almost laughed again at the dramatic scenes playing out in her head. King Edward and Queen Grace, offering their leftover crumbs to the peasant Claudia. But, instead, she lowered her eyes to the table. “I would love to go to London, but this is my home and I would prefer to stay with Margaret.”

  Grace laughed, a dry, cackling sound that echoed through the room. “That is out of the question, Claudia. I know that woman must seem like a mother figure to you, but surely you’d prefer to be with your own parents? She is only an employee, after all.”

  Claudia pushed down on her knees. Her legs twitched with a need to escape Grace’s mocking smile. Or wipe it off her face. “There was a time, yes, when I would have given anything to see you, even for a day, but that was before.”

  “Before what?” Edward’s eyes narrowed and Claudia felt her cheeks burn.

  Must be more careful. Neither adult seemed to suspect that Dane had been among the fleeing gypsies, nor had they ever broached the subject with her. But…could they know? She thought carefully before she spoke again, cursing her habitual honesty.

  “Before,” Claudia paused, staring at Grace and fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth, “before I grew up and realised I didn’t need parents as much as I thought I did.”

  Grace raised her eyebrows and pouted. “We expected you would feel”—she glanced at Edward—“dissatisfied with our decision. But, as we’ve explained, it’s normal for children of wealth and high standing in society to be in your position and I do believe it’s been of benefit to you. You may not realise it, but your education is quite superior to many other young women your age who attend school with all its distractions.”

  “And what will I do with it?” Claudia gripped the chair with her hands and fought the urge to throw her mother’s red wine in her face.

  “Make an advantageous match for your family, of course, or gain excellent employment,” Edward said, his eyes staring unblinkingly into hers.

  A coldness settled about the room and Claudia imagined icy tentacles clawing her neck and holding her, trapped forever under the gaze of a constant stream of jailers.

  “Snap out of it, girl,” barked Edward. “I see how you keep drifting off like that in company. Well, people will think you’re mad if you keep doing it. Now, you must listen, carefully, there is something of great importance that you must comply with.”

  Claudia nodded at Edward, itching to peel the tentacles from her throat. Snow-White and Rose-Red had settled on the seat with her and she soaked in the rays of comfort radiating from their smiles.

  Edward looked towards Grace and she returned his glance, batting her eyelashes. In that moment, her mother’s behaviour reminded her of a butterfly’s wing; thin and papery and flitting about in the breeze; completely without substance.

  “Your mother and I were unwed when you were conceived. Therefore, as far as society is aware, we are childless.”

  Ahh. More confusion. More secrets. More lies. Why are they admitting it now? Neither of them met her eye.

  “To avoid any public scandals, which would be detrimental to my political career, we’ll return to London with you in our care, but as a distant cousin of Grace’s family. You’ll need to pretend your own family has died, Claudia. That we are your guardians until such time as you marry or — when you turn eighteen — find employment.” The clipped, significant words rolled from his tongue without emotion.

  What a blessing, really, that she could continue to ignore her parentage, and that she was even being asked to ignore it. But still, her stomach clenched, thinking about the lengths Edward had gone to, to keep the beautiful, but reckless wife that was her mother.

  The butterfly queen who’d given birth to her now tore at her napkin, a delicate sigh escaping her lips. “In private though, Claudia, we still want you to view us as your parents, as it should be,” Grace said, smiling and nodding as if the act of doing this would justify all the pretence.

  “You understand what this means, don’t you? It shouldn’t be too hard, you barely know us, after all, and despite our efforts to offer you…affection, you don’t seem to want to return it. A good thing, really.” Edward mumbled his last words, nodding to himself.

  Claudia could barely bother to feel anger about the revelations pouring down on her. The desire to laugh again was stronger than anything and Snow-White and Rose-Red were already giggling in anticipation of it. Especially when she looked at her mother’s made-up face: a picture of sympathetic motherliness with Edward’s thunderous frown serving as a backdrop.

  “I understand and you’re right, it won’t be hard. I’ve never felt like I had parents anyway.” Until Dane and Oriana. She paused, thinking of Oriana and the trouble she might be in. Her hands trembled and she caught them together in her lap. “And it won’t really matter if I’m here and you’re in London, in any case.” She stared at them both.

  Grace turned to Edward and put a finger to her lips.

  “We’ll talk about that another time, Claudia. For now you may take time to adjust to what we’ve told you. We only want to pave the way for a successful life for you. Our intentions are for the best.”

  “You’re excused to do your afternoon study,” Edward said, attempting a smile as he helped Grace up from her chair. “I look forward to seeing the results of that history project I helped you with. I’m sure you’ll receive top marks. Could be a lawyer in the family, what do you think, Grace? Useful to have around.” Edward chuckled and clenched the back of the butterfly queen’s neck with one, square hand, steering her towards the stairs.

  In the following two days, a team of cleaners swept in from neighbouring towns to put the chateau in order: dusting the candelabras and polishing the fine silver in preparation for Preston Myers’ arrival.

  Poor Margaret moaned rather than talked, running around breathless and sweaty trying to supervise the chaos. Lenny barely left the gardens, telling Claudia he was scared to run into the housekeeper’s sharp tongue. The cleaners were like a cast of colourful characters to Claudia. Whenever she could, she stopped to talk to one or other of them; it helped her forget, helped her sidestep the problems filling her mind. Grace and Edward would look on with horror.

  For days, Claudia had called these pretend parents Aunty Gracey and Uncle Eddie. She enjoyed watching the horrified expressions on their faces, knowing that Grace and Edward would put up with much to maintain the image they cultivated –and it served only to teach her lessons of deceit and mistrust, so different from those the gypsies had given with love, and Mr Campbell had driven into her with dreariness.

  “Claudia, come and get dressed please, Preston’s plane arrives any minute now and a driver has been sent to collect him from the airport,” Grace called out to her from the top of the grand staircase.

  Claudia, already clothed in a simple, brown shift dress, held her finger
s mid-air above the piano keys and cocked her head to the side as Grace’s voice echoed around the parlour. She scanned the brown the dress and shrugged. No reason to look pretty when I’m surrounded by ugliness.

  “I’m dressed, thank you, Grace.” She threw her head back and yelled towards the stairs.

  Quick footsteps announced the arrival of her mother in the parlour, hair still in curlers and cheeks flushed red. Claudia scanned the butterfly queen from head to foot. She was lovely to look at, with her wide blue eyes and the skin of her long neck glowing flawlessly.

  It would be so soft to touch. Someone so pretty can’t be all bad.

  But then, Grace looked at her with the signature expression Claudia now knew was filled with disdain and disappointment.

  “What about the dress I left on your bed?” Grace asked, eyes flicking away from Claudia’s.

  “Oh,” said Claudia. “Did you? I haven’t been in my room since breakfast.”

  Grace sighed. “Well run along and put it on, Margaret is waiting to help you.”

  Claudia smiled, stood and dipped into a mock curtsy, before running towards the stairs.

  “I didn’t mean, literally, run,” Grace said, her tone razor sharp.

  Claudia smiled again and slowed down to a deliberate walk, enjoying her mother’s frustration.

  Margaret frowned as Claudia entered the bedroom. A blue dress hung over one of the housekeeper’s shoulders, jostling up and down as her foot tapped on the wooden floorboards.

  “Where did you learn to act like such a spoilt brat, Miss? I saw what you just did. Out and out misbehaving that is.”

  Claudia laughed. “I don’t know where it came from. I just know I can’t help it.”

  Margaret seemed to struggle to stop the smile stretching her cheeks. “Those gypsies have a lot to answer for, giving you all this confidence, young lady.”

  “It was there, woman, the little lass just didn’t know how to use it.” Lenny stuck his head around the corner of the door, winking as he spoke.