“Every decent woman desires these things. But you are naught but a strumpet, a Gypsy’s whore,” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth
“Sir! You will not speak to me like that in my own home. I must ask you to—”
“This is not your home, you foolish woman.” Sir Edward narrowed his eyes. “Your husband sold it to me some months before he died.”
Joanna gasped and sank into a chair. Sir Edward stepped closer and stood over her, the rat-a-tat of the riding crop faster yet.
“As I am a gentleman, I chose to not disturb you with that information. I chose to allow you to remain, pretending you had the right to live here in order to not distress you, thinking only of your comfort. I hoped thus that you would better realize the need for servants, for horses, for a carriage, if you stayed here rather than entertaining your foolish notion of a small cottage far from where I could look over you.”
“I believe I made it quite clear that I preferred the cottage.” Joanna stood. Though it hurt it was preferable to Sir Edward looming over her. “You pretended you cared for me while you denied me what I really wanted. I lived in misery as a wealthy woman. And now that my wealth is spent, I have no desire to live that way again. I would prefer to live—”
“Well you can go and live with the Gypsies for all I care. Perhaps they will have you. But I think they will not. Your Gypsy scoundrel has had his sport with you, but he will not repeat it, I assure you. I have told them this morning that they must leave. And without payment.”
“That is not right!” Joanna exclaimed, horrified at the unfairness. “You have no right to punish them for your own false expectations.”
Sir Edward grasped her arm hard. “How dare you speak to me like that,” he roared, shaking her. “It is not for you to tell me what to do.” Joanna cried out in alarm as she struggled to pull away.
“You let go of my mother!” Nash, who had run into the room, shouted. “Let her go!” He took hold of Sir Edward’s leg and the man pushed Joanna away so violently that she fell to the floor. He turned and gave Nash a blow to the chest that sent the child reeling.
“Get back in the nursery where you belong,” he ordered, “or I shall do worse than that. It is time you learned how to behave to your betters.” Joanna saw Nash run from the room.
“How dare you; how dare you!” She struggled to her feet and rushed at him and slapped his face. Sir Edward grabbed her in a painful embrace and pulled her hard against himself.
“I dare,” he said, putting his face close to hers, “because you are in debt to me, make no mistake. You have lived in my house and paid no rent, you have made use of Mrs. Peters whom I have paid to care for you—”
“And to carry tales to you!” She tried desperately to pull away from him. “Take your hands off me.”
“I will not.” He put his arms around her and tried to kiss her. She turned her head away and pushed against him as hard as she could.
“Stop it!” she shouted, both terrified and revolted. “Release me!”
“You will repay me for everything I have done for you.”
“There is no payment due. I never asked you to do anything for me, never.”
“You harlot! You will do exactly as I say, you will—”
“Release her at once!” It was Tem, followed by Nash, whose eyes appeared big as saucers. Sir Edward pushed Joanna away, almost knocking her to the floor again, and turned and struck at Tem with the riding crop.
“You filthy, thieving—” He struck Tem once across his chest, but the second time he attempted to do so, the Gypsy took hold of the whip and the two men struggled for control of it. Nash took hold of Sir Edward’s leg and sank his teeth into the back of it. The man shrieked, and Tem yanked the whip from his hands as the little boy ran to his mother.
“Stay back,” Tem cried, swinging it toward the other man. Sir Edward backed away and collapsed into a chair.
“Mrs. Daniels, I was on my way here to tell you that we Gypsies are leaving this morning.” He was breathing hard and he kept his gaze on Sir Edward who cowered in the chair. “Thank God Nash met me in the lane. I ran as fast as I could.” He sent a brief glance her way. “If you wish to leave this place, I will carry you and Nash safely to another town.”
“I wish nothing more than to leave this place,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Go quickly, both of you, and gather what you need and treasure most,” Tem said. “I will take you to safety. If you have money or anything of value, you best bring it with you. Be very quick and knock on this door when you are ready.”
Joanna staggered out of the room, nearly colliding with Mrs. Peters, who must have been listening at the door.
“Serves you right,” she hissed as Joanna pushed past her.
Ignoring the pain in her ankle, Joanna quickly gathered up her jewelry and the little money she had and threw it and an extra dress into a basket and draped her fur-lined cape over her arm.
Nash crept into her room with a big basket. “I packed my best toys and my Sunday suit,” he said.
Joanna, supporting herself with the banister, hurried down the stairs, with Nash right behind her.
“Stand aside,” she ordered Mrs. Peters, who stepped away so Joanna could knock on the drawing room door. The door opened and Tem came out, the whip still in his hand. She saw that Sir Edward remained slouched in the chair.
“Go in and join him,” Tem ordered Mrs. Peters who, after giving him a look of pure hatred, did so.
Tem gave the whip to Joanna and pushed the massive hall table in front of the door.
Outside, Tem untied Sir Edward’s horse and lifted Joanna and placed her behind the saddle. Once he was mounted with one arm holding Nash close to himself, he called, “Hold tightly,” and with a shout gave the horse a good whack on its hindquarters. They galloped away with Joanna holding on to Tem as tightly as she could.
“Now he cannot pursue us, nor ride for help,” Tem said to her.
They galloped down the lane and were soon met by a Gypsy caravan. A yellow vardo stopped, causing the green wagon behind it to come to a halt while the ones before it continued on.
Noah’s head peeked out the tiny window of the yellow wagon.
“Dadro!” he called, grinning. “And Nash and Mrs. Daniels too.” He disappeared and almost immediately his sisters were leaning out and calling “Dadro, Dadro,” and then “Nash, Mrs. Daniels, will you come with us?”
Yes,” Nash said. There was a sureness in his voice Joanna had not heard before. “Yes, we shall come with you.”
The pretty woman slipped down from the driver’s seat and threw her arms around Tem as soon as he dismounted.
“We were afraid for you,” she said.
“My sister, Lala,” Tem said as he helped Joanna off the horse. The woman gave Joanna quick nod and then ran to the green vardo next in line and climbed agilely to the seat and sat beside the driver.
Tem lifted Nash and Joanna onto the seat of the yellow wagon and then climbed up himself and spoke to the horse, which moved on quickly to catch up with the others.
“I think it best we take you to a small village some twenty miles from here. The rector is very kind and will help you to find a home, I am sure.”
Joanna sat silent. Did this mean Tem did not want her? She had not had time to give her situation any real thought, but somehow she had assumed she was running away with Tem, that she would spend her life with him. That is, she thought, what I want. I want nothing more than to spend my life with this good man. But it seemed he would prefer to leave her in that village, prefer to live his life without her. She wanted to weep.
Nash spoke in his clear, reedy voice. “I do not want to go to the village. Cannot Mother and I stay with you? I will work so hard, and Mother is so happy when you are near. Oh please, Tem. Please say we can stay with you for always.”
“Well,” Tem said, “you may stay with me under one condition.”
“What?” said Nash, “What is the condition?�
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“It will depend on your mother. You may stay with me for always if she agrees to marry me,” Tem said, smiling.
Joanna gasped.
“Does that mean you will be my father?”
“Yes, I would be your father.”
“My mother must marry you then.” Nash turned to her. “Say yes; please say you will.”
“I will,” she said, “and gladly.” Tears of joy welled up in her eyes.
Tem put the reins on his knees and took her in his arms while the horse followed the road and the vardo before it. As he pressed a kiss to her forehead, Nash bounced up and down on the seat and cried, “I shall have a father, a father I like.”
Biography
As an ex-fashion photographer, Juliet Chastain says that, in a way, writing fiction is a lot like photography. She takes a few elements—models and clothes in photography, characters and setting in her writing—and makes them come alive.
Ever since she wrote a tragic tale of two kittens back in sixth grade, Juliet has had a yen to write. Now that she’s put down her camera, she indulges herself by writing short steamy romances with models, er, heroes, like a passionate sea captain, a sweet-natured hunk of a werewolf, and the devil’s own sexy-as-hell grandson—every one of them ready to fulfill his lady’s deepest desires.
Juliet’s other titles include The Captain and the Courtesan and Cry of the Wolf, as well as For Love of a Gypsy Lass and a Proper Lady’s Gypsy Lover. To Tempt a Gypsy is the next book in the Gypsy Lovers series.
You can learn more about Juliet and her collection of out-of-the-ordinary heroes at julietchastain.com, and contact her at [email protected] or on Twitter as @julietchastain.
The Gypsy and the Widow Page 4