Gypsy Trail

by West, Nicole Leigh

  “Get away from here, man, before you’re caught.” Margaret shooed Lenny out into the corridor.

  Lenny raised his greying eyebrows. “Just supervising the rubbish collection from all the rooms, as instructed by Mr Spencer.”

  “You’re the rubbish that needs collecting! Off with you now,” Margaret said, a twinkle in her eyes as they crinkled at the corners.

  The royal blue dress had a tight bodice, spaghetti straps and a slim-line skirt that skimmed her calves. A wide, brown belt with a gold buckle completed the outfit. Grace had installed a brand new, full-length mirror on the wall opposite her bed and Claudia looked at her own reflection. She neither smiled nor frowned.

  Her breasts had continued to grow and now swelled over the top of the v-neck dress, making her waist look tiny. Her black hair sat in shiny waves behind her shoulders and her naturally red lips looked as full and pouting as her mother’s. Soon, a small crease appeared between her dark, straight eyebrows.

  “”How could you possibly frown at that reflection, Claudia? You may be a brat, but you’re certainly a decent looking one. That gypsy of yours must be suffering from an awful broken heart,” Margaret said, almost panting in her hurry to arrange the errant wisps of hair around her face.

  Claudia hugged Margaret who blushed bright red and fussed with even more enthusiasm over the erratic stray curls.

  “Ah, that’s much better. Surely you enjoy dressing up, Claudia?” Grace glided into the room, her blonde beauty highlighted by a red, ankle length dress. An elaborate gold necklace with a diamond studded, lopsided heart, adorned her neck.

  “Sometimes,” Claudia said, throwing Margaret a sly smile.

  Grace caught the exchange and stepped in between them. “Thank you, Margaret, I can take over from here.”

  “Of course.” Margaret lowered her eyes to the floor and tugged at one of Claudia’s curls in a secret, cheeky goodbye gesture. She made a great show of tidying up after Claudia, testing Grace’s patience as far as she could. The housekeeper left only after Grace sighed loudly, tapping her red nails, at great speed, over the dressing table.

  “This necklace is from Tiffany’s, Claudia. Have you heard of them? They’re just about the most famous jewellery designers in the world. Would you like one? I can take you there, when we go back to London.” The butterfly queen waited until the door closed, then turned to Claudia with a sparkling smile.

  “I don’t really like jewellery, but thank you anyway.”

  Grace’s eyes narrowed and her thinly plucked eyebrows drew together.

  Claudia, I know how well read you are, but how much do you know of…male and female interactions?” The red nails began to shape one of Claudia’s curls.

  Claudia gazed in the mirror, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her own mother touching her, doing her hair, standing next to her. Like a dream, a dream she’d had thousands of times before. With none of the happiness.

  Claudia steadied herself. “If you’re asking if I know about procreating and the workings of the male and female anatomy, of course, I’m informed.”

  Grace’s eyes grew wide. “You’re so blunt, Claudia; you must learn some guile and tact.” Her lips curved in a smile that didn’t show her teeth. “I simply meant there are acceptable ways in which to act around men, now that you’re nearly of a marriageable age. Surely you’ve observed me with your father?

  Claudia ignored the question. “How would you like me to behave then?” Small talk held no appeal for her and the butterfly queen’s liking of polite, superficial discussions made her want to stuff a sock into the delicate mouth.

  “Well, be yourself, of course. You have delightful manners, when you choose, and your speech is articulate. But, perhaps you could smile more, ensure you listen intently to everything Preston says. Compliment him. These things, you have no experience with. You’d do well to watch and learn from me.” Grace looked at herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair with her perfectly white hand, running her tongue over perfectly white teeth.

  Claudia stopped herself from smirking. Her mother also taught her how to disregard loyalty and love and family while facing the world and pretending to be an upstanding, morally fit citizen.

  “Of course,” Claudia replied.

  Grace smiled.

  “Excellent. You look lovely, by the way, Preston will be very pleased.” Grace looked her up and down, tapping a finger on her cheek. “You know, Claudia, I’ve imagined doing this with you. You know, the mother and daughter thing.” She lowered her eyes and giggled, almost like a child.

  Heat rolled over Claudia’s face. “Well you could have, and you didn’t.” She knew her eyes flashed with quick anger, but she couldn’t stand the sudden kindness, couldn’t deal with the nauseating doubt over her mother’s sincerity.

  Grace tried to smile, but covered her mouth with her hand instead. She nodded, once, and turned to leave the room. At the door, she scanned Claudia’s face, hair and body, one more time, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. She turned and clicked clacked away up the hall on her six-inch heels.

  Claudia let go of the breath she’d been holding.

  Chapter Nine

  The Gatekeeper in the Guise of a God

  Preston Myers sauntered into the hallway, blond hair styled back from his face in thick, straight strands to his collar, dimples appearing when he smiled and a chin pointed high in the air above an impossibly smooth, blemish free neck. Edward walked beside him. Together they looked like a well-dressed giraffe and a fat wart hog, straight from one of the cartoons she’d so recently discovered on Edward’s plasma TV. Claudia clenched her stomach to stop the gurgling laughter.

  The giraffe’s lean limbs were draped in an elegant black suit and a black and gold watch peeped out from under the sleeve of his jacket. The scent of oranges and cinnamon followed him as he strode towards Grace.

  “Darling Preston, how lovely to see you. Did you have a good journey?” Grace hugged him and kissed both of his cheeks as he bent down to her.

  “Yes, thank you, Grace. You look absolutely stunning, as always. Quite a property you have here.” Preston clasped his hands together behind his back and turned in a circle, admiring the grand staircase. “Been in the family for three generations, you say?”

  “Yes, a family heirloom, so to speak.”

  “Lovely, I am most impressed.” The giraffe’s eyes came to rest on Claudia. “And this, I take it, is the lovely Claudia, your second cousin.”

  “It is. Claudia, this is Preston, our much adored family friend.” Grace presented Preston to Claudia with an elegant sweep of her arm.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Claudia said, stepping forward with her hand outstretched.

  He took her hand and stared into her eyes, lowering his chin to do so. His eyes were the colour of frost on the lake, the lightest of blues, startling in their iridescence, especially when they settled on her lips for a few uncomfortable seconds. He lowered his eyes only to kiss the back of her hand, grazing his lips over her middle knuckle.

  “Enchanted, Claudia. Please accept my apologies for your misfortune. One as young as you should not be left alone in the world. You’re very lucky to have such generous, caring relatives as the Spencers.”

  “Yes. Thank you for your kind words.” Involuntarily, she stepped back. There was something familiar, predatory even, in his intense stare. But, strangely, as soon as he looked away, she wanted him to look back at her.

  “You must be tired, Preston, I’ll show you to your room so you can freshen up. Tea will be served in two hours.” Grace put her hand on Preston’s elbow and steered him towards the guest wing.

  As Grace led him to the second floor, he turned back, his body following his head at a slow, languid pace. He stared into Claudia’s eyes once again. “I look forward to seeing you at tea, Claudia.” His chiselled cheekbones and elegant, aquiline nose looked too pretty under the impact of his full, beaming grin, and the white teeth beneath the full lips almost blinded her with thei
r brightness.

  Ridiculous. He looks exactly like Prince Charming.

  Claudia smiled and turned away, but not before she recognised the light that glimmered in the icy blue depths. Despite the handsome face, impeccable manners and smooth words, Preston stared at her as if he’d like to devour her.

  Like the gatekeeper in the guise of a god.

  “Claudia, that will never do. Your position’s all wrong. Archery is an age-old tradition in our family you know, you must try harder,” Grace yelled, shading her eyes with her hand as she looked up from her book.

  Claudia put the bow down, planted her hands on her hips and turned to frown at her mother…second cousin…whatever.

  “I think she looks fantastic with the bow, just like a little Celtic warrior,” Preston called back to Grace, nudging Claudia with his elbow.

  Claudia stifled a smile and tried to stop staring at the blue eyes focused on her.

  Grace pulled herself up from the day bed and walked down the valley towards them. “She is not a Celt and that’s not the correct posture. She’s not training to be a fighter, Preston.”

  “Ah, but she could.”

  This time, Claudia couldn’t help but return his gaze, her cheeks growing warm as she replayed his compliment in her mind.

  Preston cocked a brow as his eyes travelled over her face. He bent to pick up the bow and pulled an arrow from the quiver on his hip. His fingers twirled the arrow back and forth as he pulled the string taut. Claudia’s eyes flicked to his biceps, outlined beneath his white shirt as his arm stretched straight, ready to aim at the target.

  The arrow whooshed through the air. Bullseye.

  “That’s amazing,” Claudia said, clamping her hand over her mouth as soon as she spoke.

  “Why, thank you, m’lady. Next I’ll don my armour and take you for a ride on my black stallion.” Preston laughed, pulling his stomach in and pushing his chest out.

  “Oh, stop it, silly boy,” Grace said, putting a hand on Preston’s arm and smiling up at him.

  In just one week, Preston had breathed life into the chateau; arranging horse rides in the valley, visits to museums and wineries, picnics by the lake…archery lessons.

  No…won’t fall for it. Stupid parents trying to make stupid fake marriages.

  “Come, Claudia, that’s enough for today. You’re so much improved, I’m almost feeling a tad jealous.” Preston caught her elbow, steering her around Grace, up the hill and over the gravel towards the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry about Grace,” he whispered in her ear, “she just wants the best for you. The Spencers have…very high standards. Do you like archery, Claudia?”

  “Well, yes, I guess so. If I was a bit better at it.”

  “Oh, but you’re getting better every day, before you know it, that bullseye will be your best friend.” He squeezed her arm, leading her over to the fridge. “Now, what can I get for you? How about Caprese? Have you heard of it? Delicious Italian dish with buffalo mozzarella and tomatoes and basil…let’s see if Margaret’s got what we need in here.”

  “You cook?” Surely not. Prince Charming? In the kitchen?

  “A bit, I know how to rustle up enough to feed myself…and a hungry archer in the making.”

  Preston gathered supplies from the fridge, every movement slow and casual, occasionally stopping to brush a blond wave from his eyes. He chopped the tomatoes with easy skill, layering them with cheese and swirling balsamic vinegar over the top like the chefs Claudia had seen on television.

  “Voila!” He put the plate in the middle of the table, handing her a fork and watching her closely.

  Claudia stabbed her fork into a single tomato, bringing it to her mouth carefully, suddenly conscious of what she looked like when she ate. She nibbled a corner of cheese, holding the fork away from her mouth so the vinegar dripped on the plate, rather than down her chin.

  “And?” His own fork paused mid-air.

  “Delicious.” She giggled. It was — sweet and salty and squishy.

  “Good. Don’t be shy, tuck in.” Preston smiled, shovelling three pieces into his mouth at once.

  And she did, returning his smiles between every mouthful.

  That night, Claudia huddled under the covers in bed. How changed life was. No fear of the gatekeeper, no breathless anticipation of a visit to the gypsy camp. Still, her stomach churned and her eyes stayed resolutely open.

  Someone rapped on the door. Preston’s smiling face poked through the opening.

  “Want to come and watch a movie?” He pushed the door open further, standing very still in black, silk pyjamas.

  “Um, I guess, Edward doesn’t like me to watch anything without his approval though.” Claudia sat up, holding the sheet under her chin.

  “Oh, don’t worry about Edward, he’ll never know. You can trust me, Claudia, really.” Preston walked over to the bed, holding his hand out to help her up.

  Claudia reached for the hand, feeling the warmth as his fingers closed over hers.

  In the guest wing, Preston patted the bed, lifting the covers so she could slide in. He sat on the other side, resting his head against the wall, tucking the covers around them both.

  “Now, crime, romance or adventure? No, don’t answer, I know already. Romance. Yes?”

  Claudia nodded, her spine tingling in the dark room, lit only by the blue glow on the television screen.

  “Right, Miss Claudia, say hello to Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. I think you’re going to like them.”

  Pretty Woman started, and Claudia forgot who she was, and where she was, right up until the credits rolled. Her eyes drooped and her limbs felt heavy against the mattress. Oh, but what a story, and how many stories were there, that she’d never seen, never been allowed to see?

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re most welcome. Any time. Now, shall I give you a lift home?” Preston laughed and scooped her up, to carry her down the empty hallways, to place her on her own bed as if she was made of precious porcelain.

  And his smile was the last thing she remembered, before sleep took it away.

  “Good Lord, girl, to look at you now, no one would ever guess the trouble I used to have trying to get you out of those nightgowns every day.” Margaret turned the tap off and put one hand on the edge of the bathtub to help herself stand. An emerald green dress, knee length with embroidered white daisies, rested on the housekeeper’s shoulder, ready for Claudia to slip into.

  Claudia giggled. “I know. How quickly things change.” She hesitated for a moment, gazing at Margaret.

  “Margaret, please don’t feel like you have to keep looking after me this way, I can run the bath and dress myself and I know you could do with the time to go and see Lenny.” And you shouldn’t have to be in pain anymore from stupid chores and stupid rules.

  “Don’t be silly, I’m still your housekeeper and I’ll keep doing my job, thank you very much.” Margaret put her hands on her hips and stopped to glare at Claudia, before taking a few deep breaths and straightening the bed sheets, but Claudia caught the smile tugging at the housekeeper’s lips.

  Claudia bent to help her, lifting the mattress so Margaret could tuck the corners under. “I don’t understand the concept of servants. I mean…not that…I don’t think you’re my servant, Margaret, you know that, but I think it’s selfish and ridiculous to have others do all your chores for you.”

  Margaret blushed red and her bottom lip twitched. “Well, happy I am to hear you say that, in any case, Miss. Dane would be right proud of you. But it doesn’t mean we can ignore convention, you understand? There’re certain obligations for a young woman like you.”

  “Living here, yes. But not for long.” Claudia glanced at Margaret, stifling her nerves. It’s now or never.

  “Have you been having those dreams again?” asked Margaret. “Are the gypsies coming back?”

  Claudia’s throat tightened at the thought. “No. Truly Margaret…I’ve been desperate to dream of them, b
ut, well, it’s only a blank space when I search.” Claudia lowered her voice and leaned in towards the older woman. “I want to leave here, and search for them myself.”

  Margaret clasped her hands, bringing them in close to her chest. “You’re a brave little thing, I’ll give you that. Who would have thought it, after we kept you so contained all these years!” She paused and looked towards the window, obviously lost in the regret Claudia often saw flitting over her face, adding to the patchwork of wrinkles. “But you absolutely can’t, I won’t allow it.”

  “Margaret…”

  “I won’t allow it,” Margaret said, now grinning, “unless, young lady, you take me and Lenny with you! Goodness knows I owe you that much.”

  “Of course.” Claudia reached for Margaret, pulling her into a tight hug. “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

  Margaret broke away, holding her at arm’s length. “I must confess, Miss, it’s been awfully boring here with your mother and Edward, I miss those mischievous gypsies more than I could have imagined and…well…I’ve been a bit worried about the influence that handsome Preston is having on you.”

  “Oh, him. Well…I admit he’s made an impression on me.” Claudia tipped her head to the side and stroked her cheek with her hand.

  Like yesterday, when he’d helped her with a maths exam. He didn’t give her the answers, he’d never do that, Claudia was sure, but he’d explained everything, just right, so that she somehow understood what had seemed like a foreign language. And he always smelled so good…Oh stop it…Claudia cleared her throat.

  “Well…anyway…it’s been fascinating to make a new friend and pretend that I belong in that life. But, Margaret, I don’t! I ache every day for Brishan and Dane and Oriana.” She paused for a moment, as she did every hour of every day. Please be safe, Oriana. “I don’t want to wait any more. I’m tired of pretending my life, I want to start living it. Now. I can’t wait any longer for them to return for me, they need to know I have the strength to look after myself. And I need…I need to see Brishan.”