‘My lady,
A beautiful gypsy woman joined Cingar; they must have been out walking when they spotted our carriage. He introduced his intended to us and then asked Jessenia if she would mind inviting a mysterious long-lost friend to their wedding, and motioned to Devere.
‘Mysterious?’ Devere grinned as he protested, not too comfortable with the suggestion. ‘How do you mean?’
Jessenia laughed at the prospect of disguising the English gentleman. ‘Some new clothes, another language, a mask, pierce his ear…’ She threw up her hands. ‘I would not recognise him.’
‘No,’ Devere declined. ‘My wife already feels I have deceived her, and she will see straight through a disguise.’
‘Your wife’s psychic skills are a little tainted today,’ Cingar explained. ‘Hangover.’
‘Ashlee got drunk!’ I could hardly believe it. ‘She never drinks alcohol!’
‘I am to blame,’ Cingar confessed, ‘but how fortunate for you…everything happens for a reason.’ The gypsy captain looked back to Devere, who still appeared hesitant. ‘Get close to her, get her alone, and then explain,’ Cingar said. ‘If I take you into camp as you are, Miss Winston will flee and never trust either of us again.’
Devere wrestled with the notion a bit longer and looked to me for advice.
‘What have you got to lose?’ I asked him.
‘I know about the affairs of love,’ Cingar boasted and I didn’t doubt it. ‘There is nothing like a wedding to soften a woman’s heart.’
‘It’s true.’ I seconded Cingar’s reasoning.
‘All right.’ Devere resigned himself to the plan with a smile of gratitude.
‘I feel it best that you come alone,’ Cingar advised. ‘Your companions might give you away.’
‘Not a worry.’ Lord Devere spoke up for us. ‘A couple of nights in Marseilles won’t be too hard to bear.’ My husband served me a wink. ‘We’ll leave word at the British Embassy where to find us.’
‘Give Ashlee my love,’ I requested, feeling a little teary now that our journey was drawing to a close. ‘Tell her to come and see me, once you’ve set everything to rights.’
‘Go and enjoy yourselves,’ Devere bade us. ‘I’ve ruined your honeymoon long enough.’
‘Poppycock!’ Lord Devere rejected his claim. ‘This is one holiday we shall never forget.’
LESSON 15
MASQUERADE FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE
The weather could not have been finer for an outdoor wedding.
There had been a few new arrivals in the camp overnight—wedding guests I was told—and among them was a masked man.
He was dressed in black, including the mask that had small slits to see by. It covered the top half of his face and tied at the back of his neck. The ponytail that sprouted from his head cover in one long curl at the nape of his neck was dark blond, and his skin was fairer than that of his gypsy companions. Still, his physique was just as fetching as any of the gypsy men’s and he seemed a carefree soul. He carried a pistol and a sword, as I did, and spoke only Italian, so he was not a Rom. His light-body was very beautiful, although there was a brooding dark mass around his heart. Judging from the extended size of his light-body I had to assume that this man was rather psychic.
‘Hmmm, interesting.’ I attended to my broth and bread. ‘What do you know about him?’ I asked Chavi who was sitting beside me.
‘He is part of the bride’s party,’ Chavi informed me, but then, gazing at the masked man, she said, ‘’Tis seldom you see a man that psychic with a broken heart.’
‘I noticed that, too. I wonder what the mask is for?’
‘He could be disfigured,’ Chavi suggested, ‘or hiding from someone.’ She seemed more disposed toward this theory. ‘Interesting, as you say.’
I’m afraid our curiosity was rather obvious, for Cingar brought the new arrival over to meet us.
‘This is my grandmother, Chavi, the woman responsible for today’s event,’ Cingar was telling the man in black. ‘And this wonderful woman saved me from the Duc de Guise…Miss Winston. Ladies, may I introduce Danior Terkari, a long-time associate of Jessenia’s family.’
‘So, you are the woman who vanquished the best swordsman in Orleans.’ Terkari took up my hand and kissed it; even his leather gloves were black. ‘This is a rare honour.’
I noticed the dark spot on the man’s heart lighten a little. I felt his attraction and it frightened and excited me at once. ‘You know all about me and yet I know nothing about you, sir.’
‘There is little in my past worth telling.’ He let go of my hand and looked at Chavi. ‘But perhaps Chavi would do me the service of telling me something of my future?’ he asked lightheartedly. ‘I have been hearing of your talent as an oracle. I would be happy to pay you, of course.’
The old gypsy’s frown lifted. ‘Would you like a private reading?’ She smiled her toothy grin.
‘I have nothing to hide.’ Terkari took a seat beside Chavi at the campfire and removed one of his gloves.
‘Then why the mask?’ I queried and was sorry that I mentioned it, because Terkari’s joviality lessened
