Fire Lily (A Dangerous Hearts Romance)

by Deborah Camp

  Orrie craned her neck to view the paper sideways. “I’ll be. They’ll be playing there.”

  “All evening. Probably won’t go back home until the next day.”

  “Then why in tarnation don’t you go snoop around their place while they’re gone?” Orrie asked, clearly exasperated and intent on painting Griffon in shifty colors.

  “Because I want to speak with Eva Jeffers.”

  “So, talk to her when she gets back,” Orrie said. “Sneak a peek while she’s gone. Would it hurt you to scout the area?”

  Griffon’s lips twitched but stopped short of a smile. “I believe you want me out of town, Orrie.”

  “I think it’s high time for some results, is all.”

  This time Griffon’s smile seemed genuine to Lily. “You two have traded opinions of me.” He glanced at Lily and then Orrie. “How about this? I’ll see about hiring you two a driver first.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I doubt if I’ll be in luck, but I’ll make inquiries. Then Zar and I will pack up and start toward Devil’s Den later today so that we might spend the night under the stars and then arrive at their place by morning. Suit you, Orrie?”

  Orrie shrugged indifferently. “Guess it’ll have to do.”

  “What more do you want? You said something about results. Will I be in disfavor until I produce Cecille for you?”

  “That’ll certainly restore my belief,” Orrie allowed.

  Lily batted a hand at Orrie. “Don’t mind her. She’s got it in her head that you haven’t proven yourself. Orrie thinks I’m the only one showing peculiar behavior. You haven’t produced enough magic for her.”

  “I can speak for myself, missy,” Orrie said.

  “So can I,” Lily rejoined.

  “Ladies, ladies.” Griffon frowned, then snapped his fingers and held out his hand to Balthazar. “Zar, the cards. I shall sprinkle some magic dust in Orrie’s direction.” His silvery blue eyes sparkled with teasing lights, which were lost on Orrie Dickens.

  “Card tricks,” Orrie said with a sniff of contempt. “That’s not magic. That’s pulling a fast one, it is.”

  “Not this kind.” Griffon’s smile wore a cloak of mystery. He shuffled the cards, his hands agile and confident. “Perhaps I’ll fail, but I want to at least attempt to show you that I’m not a liar and my soul isn’t completely black.” While he talked, he shuffled the deck, cut it, shuffled it again. “My grandmother used to do this, and I found I could do it, too. It was the beginning of the end for me. At least, with my family.” He set the deck at Orrie’s elbow. “Pick any card. Don’t show it to me. Just concentrate on it. Please, Orrie.”

  With a half frown, Orrie picked up the deck and plucked one card at random. She held it in front of her face and stared at it. Lily could see over Orrie’s shoulder that it was the jack of hearts. She, too, focused on the card, thinking it would help Griffon.

  He smiled. “Jack of hearts. Please, again.”

  Orrie eyed him cautiously and chose another. Lily glanced at it. Three of spades.

  “Three of spades,” Griffon said. “Again. Once more.”

  Orrie selected a six of diamonds.

  “Six of diamonds,” Griffon said. It wasn’t a guess. His tone said he knew the card.

  “Card tricks.” Orrie shrugged.

  “Select five of them, Orrie,” Griffon said. “Think of each, then place them face down, side by side.” He waited for her to finish. “Queen of clubs, ace of diamonds, seven of diamonds, four of spades, and ten of clubs.” He glanced at Zar, and the other man flipped the cards over, just as Griffon had named them.

  “Griffon, that’s wonderful,” Lily said, laughing. “And you’re so quick! Orrie, he read your mind as if it were his own! Surely, you don’t think that demonstration was an elaborate trick.”

  Orrie handed the rest of the deck to Balthazar and shoved back her chair. “I think it’s time you and me went back to the hotel to pack our things while these men hire us a driver.” She flung down her napkin and sliced Griffon with her sharp eyes. “You find my Cecille and I might forgive you for what you took from my Lily.” Then she walked away, back stiff, chin tipped up. “Come along, Lily Jane.”

  Lily closed her hand over Griffon’s. His ring felt cold against her palm, but his eyes were warm with emotion. “She’ll get over it.”

  “I hope so.”

  She squeezed his hand, then stood up. “I suppose it’s best that we go home. I can’t help you, Griffon. More importantly, you don’t need my help.” She smiled at him and Balthazar. “You and Zar have earned my trust. I leave you with it.”

  When Lily was gone, Balthazar nudged Griffon with his elbow. “I thought you were going to tell her about the nightmare.”

  Griffon shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “It was just a dream.”

  “But you believe in dreams.”

  Griffon thumbed his gold ring, watching the sunlight bounce off it. In the dream … nightmare … Lily had fallen into a dark hole and Griffon had reached out to rescue her. Someone had pushed him from behind and he had pitched forward into a tunnel of black smoke and belching flames. Before he’d jerked awake, he’d seen faces peering down at him from above, and he’d recognized the people who’d pushed him and Lily to their deaths: Anson and Cecille.

  “Griffon, shouldn’t you tell her that you’re beginning to think Cecille is in bed, so to speak, with Anson?”

  “I don’t want to add to her worries. Besides, I don’t think she wants to hear my hazy theory. It doesn’t place her cousin in a favorable light.”

  “But you’re worried,” Balthazar said.

  “Yes.” Griffon looked up from the ring to confront Balthazar’s wise eyes. “Yes, I am. I’m picking up random emotions linked to Cecille—none of them coated with fear. That worries me. I just hope …”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Griffon smiled tightly. He’d never say aloud what was in his heart. I just hope I get out of Devil’s Den alive.

  Chapter 19

  Bags packed, Lily and Orrie sat in the hotel room and waited. The silence held a multitude of moods ranging from disappointment to suspicion. Lily fluffed the elbow-length sleeves of her dress, a drop-waisted one she saved for travel because it afforded easy body movement. Her hand strayed to her throat and the tear-shaped pearl pendant suspended there by a length of gold chain. Cecille had given her the necklace on the eve of Lily’s coming-out party.

  “I trust you’re going to keep your mouth shut around Aunt Nan and Uncle Howard,” she said, matter-of-factly.

  Orrie’s eyes snapped warnings. “I keep my word.”

  “Clarify, please. You won’t breathe a word of what’s happened between me and Griffon?”

  “I won’t. Mainly because I won’t have to. They’ll figure it out for themselves.”

  “How?”

  “By the way you’re actin’.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Like you think you’re the queen of England.” Orrie wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It don’t become you.”

  Lily sighed. She wanted desperately to tell Orrie Dickens to go straight to Hades, but she bit down on that impulse. Time would iron out these wrinkles, she told herself. Stay calm. Be pleasant. Don’t take anger’s bait.

  “I certainly hope Griffon and Zar make headway this time. I have a strong feeling that Cecille is waiting to be found at Devil’s Den.”

  Orrie shivered and hugged herself. “I hate the name of that place.”

  “Yes, but aside from the fact that the Jefferses live there, it’s beautiful country.”

  “I’ll be glad to see home again. I don’t mind telling you that I am mighty sick of this here hotel room.”

  “But won’t you miss Zar?”

  Orrie cut her eyes at Lily, measured Lily’s expression, then bobbed her head. “Sure, but he knows where to find me if he wants to see me again.”

  “That’s a fatalistic attitude.”

/>   “It’s realistic. Once he and Griffon Goforth get back to their world, they probably won’t give either of us a thought.”

  Lily winced, stabbed by that bitter possibility. “I prefer to look on the bright side.”

  “Then be prepared to cry many tears, honeypot. Buckets of tears.”

  At the soft knock on the door, Lily sprang up and opened it to Griffon and Balthazar.

  “Yes? Did you find a driver?” She could tell by their expressions that they hadn’t.

  “Not for today, no,” Griffon said, hat in hand. “But we hired the young lad at the stables to drive you tomorrow.”

  “How much did he charge?” Orrie asked over Lily’s shoulder.

  “A fair price, which I gladly paid.”

  “Let me fetch my purse and I’ll—”

  “No, please.” Griffon grabbed Lily’s wrist. “It was nothing. I have peace of mind knowing you and Orrie will be in good hands. The lad is trustworthy and a gentleman. His father owns the stables and vouched for him without hesitation.”

  “As we reckoned, there wasn’t an honest man to be had who wasn’t going to that barn dance tonight. It must be the event of the season,” Balthazar said.

  “The only event of the season,” Orrie corrected. “It’s like that in farming country. The good times come few and far between, and you’re a durned fool if you don’t partake of them.”

  “A couple of boys still wet behind the ears said they’d drive you,” Balthazar said. “But neither Griffon nor I would hear of it. You don’t mind awfully waiting until tomorrow, do you?”

  “No, I s’pose not.” Orrie smiled for the first time since she’d learned of Lily’s relationship with Griffon. But the smile was brief. She crossed her arms in a militant gesture. “I hope you men aren’t thinking we’ll go to that barn dance tonight. I think it’s high time we all remembered why we’re in this infernal town and quit actin’ like we’re on a holiday!”

  “Orrie, I don’t believe any of us have forgotten Cecille, and I sorely resent that veiled accusation,” Balthazar said, frowning.

  “If you’ll recall,” Griffon said with a bemused smile, “Zar and I have planned to start to Devil’s Den this afternoon. Our plans have not changed.” His blue eyes shifted from Orrie to Lily. “You’ll be okay on your own until tomorrow morning?”

  “Of course. But you could stick around if you want,” Lily replied.

  He shook his head and gave a short laugh. “No. I’d like to arrive at the Jefferses’ early in the morning before they scatter to the winds.”

  “When they’re all under one roof, it makes ambushing less likely,” Balthazar explained.

  “The boy’s name is Sam, and he’ll be outside at seven with the buggy and horses.” Griffon stepped back. “Zar and I have preparations to make, so we’ll see you ladies later.”

  Lily grabbed Griffon’s sleeve. “You won’t leave without telling me, will you?”

  “Certainly not.” He patted her hand. “In fact, might I have a private word with you?”

  “Yes.” Lily stared hard at Orrie, who had moved to stand at her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute, Orrie. I want to speak to Griffon alone.” Then she stepped out of the room and shut the door in Orrie’s face. “I swear, she’s on a rip, isn’t she?”

  Balthazar ducked into the room across the hall and closed the door with barely a click.

  “Alone at last,” Griffon teased, taking her hand and pulling her to the end of the corridor, where a bench sat before French doors that led to a rickety balcony. He pulled Lily down beside him. “Will Orrie sing like a bird to your aunt and uncle, or do you think she’ll show discretion?”

  “She won’t tell them about us, but she’ll expect me to.”

  “I see. Will you?”

  “Well …. I don’t know if the time is right. Perhaps after Cecille is located, then I’ll—” She wondered if she imagined she saw a tensing in his face. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t tell them?”

  “I think you’re right about waiting until this business with Cecille is behind us.” He took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. “I shall miss you, Lily.”

  “Then I suggest that you make haste, find Cecille, and bring her to Fort Smith. I’ll be there waiting. But you know how badly I wait, Griffon.”

  “Yes, that’s true. And I find your impatience charming.” He released one of her hands to curl a wisp of her hair around his finger. “I find so many things about you charming.” His eyes darkened to a sultry slate blue. “Do you think Orrie will ever forgive me?”

  “I don’t care. And I refuse to apologize or appear regretful. That’s what she’s after, you know. She wants me to admit I’ve done a terrible thing. But being with you was anything but terrible.”

  “Fire Lily,” he whispered, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. His gaze drifted to the curve of her neck. “Do me a favor and don’t think of me too hard or you’ll drive me mad while we’re apart.”

  She smiled. “No matter how many miles separate us, we’re linked. Do you think it will always be so?”

  “Always is a long time. Too long for this footloose Gypsy to even contemplate.” His mouth touched off sparks along the side of her neck.

  Lily tipped back her head, giving him ready access. She laughed softly when his lips plucked at the gold chain. “Careful. Cecille gave that to me.”

  He leaned back to study the pendant. “Lovely.” His eyes found hers, and she felt herself slipping under his spell. “You take my breath away.”

  “Did your mother have blue eyes?” Lily rested her hands against his gray shirt and felt his heart beating steady, strong. Then she felt it jerk, skip a beat, and resume its regular pace. She’d struck a nerve.

  “No, she didn’t. My eyes are another curse I’ve had to suffer.”

  “Curse? I think they’re beautiful.”

  “And unusual for a Gypsy. If I’d had your color eyes my early life would have been smoother sailing.”

  “So … your father? His eyes were blue?”

  “No one in my family has blue eyes.” A muscle in his jawline spasmed. “What does that tell you?”

  “I’m not sure. Another of life’s mysteries?”

  “Now, now. You needn’t coddle me by pretending to believe in every sort of sorcery and miracle. Tell me what you really think, Lily.”

  “Well, I don’t know….” She dipped her head, ashamed to be thinking ill of a woman she’d never met and shouldn’t judge.

  “You can tell me anything, Lily. I’m not one of the boys back home, so speak your mind. Be yourself.”

  She released a long breath before she freed the thought. “Perhaps your father wasn’t really your father.” Lily glanced up, startled by his soft laughter.

  “How delicately you put that!” A hundred sparkles danced in his eyes. “In other words, my mother might have shared her favors with more than one man? Yes, that’s my inkling as well. But no one voiced such a thing. Not to my mother.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s a great boojo woman. My grandmother has psychic powers, but my mother was the shrewd one. She could convince the queen to give up her crown to save her soul. She was too important to the Rom to even suggest that she might have done something as ghastly as sleeping with a gadjo. I heard some gossip once that she was raped by a gadjo and that’s why no one said anything about my funny coloring.”

  “There are no Gypsies with blue eyes?”

  “Some, but few in my clan. I am what you would call a rarity.”

  “Yes,” Lily agreed, stroking his cheek, touching the scar at the outer corner of his eye. “Yes, you are rare. That’s one of the precious things about you.”

  He laughed and settled his smile upon hers. The spark became a flame, and Lily found herself crushed to his chest while his tongue plundered her mouth. She’d had a notion to leave him with a quick, tender kiss that would make him hunger for more. The memory of that little kiss would be hi
s whip, making him hurry to find Cecille so he could rush to Fort Smith for a more satisfying one. But that plan shriveled and died the moment his tongue separated her lips and stroked the roof of her mouth. She clung to him like a lost love found. He tasted faintly of coffee and dark chocolate. She’d never tasted anything as good. When his mouth finally left hers, she lifted her lashes a fraction, feeling drained by his prowess, but wanting him to take more from her.

  “Griffon, how I’ll miss you. You’ll be careful tonight, won’t you? It’s dark in that forest.”

  “ ‘The darkness of the forest is the light of the Gypsy,’ ” he said. “My grandmother used to say that to me so that I wouldn’t be afraid of the dark.”

  Suddenly, a shaft of fear pierced her heart and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and looked directly into his eyes. “Griffon, you will come back, won’t you?”

  He heard the tremor in her voice, and concern dimmed the teasing lights in his eyes. “Of course, my fire lily.” He ran a hand over her auburn hair. “Don’t be afraid for me. You concentrate on keeping yourself out of harm’s way.”

  She started to tell him that she felt the taint of death, but decided it would only make him worry about her own safety. Her safekeeping didn’t concern her, but his did. For a few terrifying moments, she had felt the same overwhelming fear she’d known on the day her mother had been bitten by the snakes. She debated whether or not to tell him of her chilling sensation, but then he furrowed his brow, and Lily realized he’d zeroed in on her thoughts.

  “Remember when I told you that I’m a prospector of feelings?” he asked. When she nodded, he added, “I know you fear for me, but I’ll have Zar to watch my back.” He kissed the pads of her fingers. “Ah, these hands. These knowing hands. I shall dream of them, of their touch.”

  A bubble of strong emotion burst in Lily’s chest. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and shook her head in wonder. “There’s no one like you in the whole wide world, Griffon Goforth. I have felt the gamut for you—suspicion, dislike, awe, desire. You are indeed a prospector of feelings.” And I love you with all my heart. She didn’t say it, but she knew he heard it in that alert pocket of his mind.