He had come for the Window. She couldn’t trust anyone who wanted the Window to Heaven. Yet he was English, and why would an Englishman want the Window except for the reason he had given her? Perhaps she could trust him… a little.
“Wait.” Her hand went to the fastening at her throat. “Your cloak.”
“Return it to me later.” He mounted his horse with loose-limbed grace and lifted his hand to his followers. He was not dressed as they were; his tight dark blue trousers, intricately tied cravat, and fine coat reminded her of the kind of clothes Papa had worn when he had visitors from England. Yet, curiously, he did not look out of place with these men. She had a sense he possessed that same wildness, but it was controlled, channeled, as theirs was not.
The hollow clatter of hooves echoed on the cobblestones as the horsemen turned north. He was leaving her, once again letting her make a choice. The knowledge brought a sudden lift of spirits as she clutched the sheepskin blanket to her breasts and hurried back up the steps.
What a frightened little dove.” Gregor’s expression was sad as he looked back over his shoulder at the doorway through which Marianna had disappeared. “There are so many wounded children in this land. It hurts my heart not to be able to help them.”
“That ‘little dove’ nearly emasculated me,” Jordan said grimly. “I assure you, she’s far more falcon than dove.”
Gregor’s eyes twinkled. “Then you did try to mount her. For shame-and in a holy church too.”
“I mounted her, but not in the way you mean. She tried to kill me with an iron candlestick.”
“Because you frightened her. Her brother is inside the church?”
“In the garden.”
Gregor frowned. “I will go and get them. They may be too frightened to approach us.”
“No, let her come to me.”
“But I think-”
“The Window to Heaven was shattered,” Jordan interrupted. “It’s completely useless.”
Gregor gave a shocked exclamation. “Who?”
“Well, we know it wasn’t Nebrov. I suspect it was broken accidentally when he tried to capture the town.”
Gregor grimaced. “I would not like to have been the officer in charge of the troop who made that mistake. I wonder why he didn’t secure Talenka before he marched on to the capital.”
“Arrogance. He thought he would wrest the entire country from King Josef and then have all the time in the world to steal the Window to Heaven. It was only when he was defeated that the urgency of the matter hit home. He needed the Window to barter with Napoleon for power and support.” He paused. “However, when they smashed the Window, it seems he tried to rectify the error. He took a troop and rode west to the cottage of Anton Pogani.”
“The man who created the Window?”
“So everyone thought. Your ‘dove’ tells me the work was done by her grandmother.” He briefly related the details he had learned from Marianna.
Gregor whistled. “Poor little girl. No wonder you’re being so kind to her.”
“For God’s sake I’m not being kind. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? She won’t admit it, but she
“I heard you.” He beamed. “You should not be ashamed of being kind. I know you like the world to think you wicked, but I promise I will tell no one.”
“I’m not-” He stopped and shrugged. “The girl would disagree. She’s already told me she knows I’m not kind.”
Gregor glanced back over his shoulder. “I still think I should go back and get her. What if she flies away?”
Jordan reined in his horse as he turned a corner. “She’s not going to fly away. Because you’re going to go back to the church and stand in that alcove in the shop across the street. Send Niko to watch the back entrance to the garden. Neither of you are to let your presence be known, if she sets out in the direction of the camp.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Bring her to me.”
Gregor’s expression was troubled. “She thought herself free. You did not tell her the truth.”
“I didn’t tell her a lie. She is free as long as she makes the right decision. Sometimes it’s necessary to hood a falcon to keep her from flying in the wrong direction.” He added impatiently, “And stop looking at me as if I were going to harm your little bird. The only reason I didn’t take her by force is that I know more will be accomplished by offering honey instead of lemon. I’m well aware I need to coax her into submission. I have no desire to have her claw at me again.”
The assurance didn’t please Gregor. He had seen Jordan offer honey to women before, share the sweetness, and then withdraw and walk away. “This is not a good thing. She’s not like your usual women. She is wounded.”
“You talk as if I was going to bed her,” Jordan said dryly. “As you say, she’s only a child.”
“How old?”
“Sixteen. I don’t seduce chits scarcely out of the schoolroom.”
It was true Jordan preferred older, experienced women and avoided like the plague the young innocents who were thrown at him both in Kazan and London. Yet Gregor’s instincts told him there had been something unusual in Jordan’s attitude toward the girl a few minutes ago. “The schoolroom from which this particular chit emerged teaches more interesting lessons. You need the Jedalar. I think there is little you would not do to get it.”
“Then you needn’t worry about her for a time. She’s incapable of giving it to me for at least a few years. Perhaps never.” He nudged his horse into a trot. “I’ll see you at camp.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And, Gregor, my friend, while you’re contemplating letting the little dove fly the cage, you might consider that the alternative to my guardianship is leaving her to starve or become a whore in this benighted country.”
A convincing argument, Gregor thought gloomily, as he watched Jordan ride away. Jordan was a hard man and had grown even more ruthless since he had involved himself in Kazan’s concerns, but, whatever fate he dealt the girl, it would be better than what she faced here. “Niko!” He wheeled his horse and gestured to the burly young man at the rear of the troop. “No rest for you yet. There’s work to be done.”
The campfire was burning brightly, a beacon in the darkness, luring her closer.
“Marianna?” Alex’s hand tightened on hers. “Is it all right?”
She didn’t know, she thought in sudden panic. She didn’t know if they would be safe. She had stayed for hours in the church agonizing over this decision. Draken’s followers appeared a wild band, and yet he was…
What?
Violent, hard, clever. He had demonstrated all of those traits in the short time they had been together. She had also discerned a relentless determination and a blunt honesty. Yet how could honesty live side by side with deception? Every instinct said he had not told her the truth about the Window.
Alex coughed and pressed closer to her. “I smell food. I’m hungry, Marianna.”
Food and shelter and safety for Alex, Draken had promised her, and she had promised him nothing. After all, she could always escape later if she found the threat too great. In the meantime Alex would have a chance to heal and grow stronger.
“There will be food soon.” She drew the sheepskin blanket closer about Alex’s shoulders, drew a deep breath, and strode boldly toward the campfire.
CHAPTER 2
Huddled figures, wrapped in sheepskin blankets, lay slumbering a short distance from the camp-fire. Only Jordan Draken was awake, sitting staring into the flames.
He looked up as she entered the circle of the firelight. “You’ve been a long time,” he said quietly. He turned to Alex. “And you look blue with cold, lad. Come closer to the fire.”
