When the music ended and she stopped, the Gypsies burst into wild applause. Her cheeks reddened, she made her way over to him, stumbling and laughing at her dizziness. Another tune took up where the last one had left off, and she swayed to the beat.
“It’s like a fair, isn’t it?” she said breathlessly. “Except we’re the only ones in attendance.” She twirled in an exuberant circle, her arms wide, the daisy chain flying again. When she stopped, her eyes sparkled to rival the sunshine. “Imagine living like this every day.”
He moved closer to straighten the ring of flowers around her neck. “It would be exhausting.”
A frown flitted across her features. “There you go again, seeing the world in black and white.”
“Right here I see it as most colorful.” He rearranged her plaits, then set the hat back on her head. “And quite lovely.”
She blushed prettily. Why had he never noticed before how very pretty Emerald was? Even with her plaits. The milkmaid had bloomed before his eyes.
“I’ve never seen anyone dance quite like that,” he said, struggling for the words to describe it. To describe her. “So…free.”
“The dancing brings the freedom, aye? While I’m dancing, I don’t care.”
“About what?”
“About anything.”
Jason met her eyes as he thought about her words. To have no cares…well, he couldn’t imagine it. But it sure sounded nice. Slowly he nodded, and she smiled, then sighed. “I suppose we must get back on the road. It’s been more than ten minutes.”
“Wait, me lady.” The old woman came out of nowhere and plucked Emerald on the sleeve. “You buy first.”
“I told you I have no money,” Emerald said firmly.
Jason laid a hand on her arm. “I have money.”
The woman’s lips curved up in her gap-toothed grin. She led them to an area between the tents, where carts were piled with goods. “Basket, me lady?”
“We cannot carry that,” Emerald told her. “We’re on horseback the next few days.”
The woman frowned. “Livin’ like you are, you got no need for a broom or a rake, then.”
Emerald smiled. “Nay.”
“Cooking utensils?” the woman asked hopefully. “Nails? Tools?”
Now Emerald laughed. “No nails or tools, either.”
A foot tapped the grass beneath the woman’s colorful skirt. “Me lady like silver?” Her gaze fastened on Emerald’s amulet. “Or gold?”
Emerald grasped the green pendant. “Nay.”
Not for a moment did Jason believe her. “Show me what you have,” he told the Gypsy.
The woman ducked into a tent and came out with a handful of black velvet. She pulled up a stool and sat, opening the fabric in her lap to reveal a heap of gold trinkets.
Leaning over, Jason stirred the pile with a fingertip. The jewelry gleamed in the sunshine. Every piece was embossed or engraved with elaborate designs, and some of them were set with gemstones besides. “They are lovely, madam.”
“You buy one?”
He selected a flat engraved band embedded with tiny, bright green emeralds. Turning to Emerald, he took one of her hands and slipped it onto the fourth finger. It fit perfectly.
Her pretty mouth hung slack for a moment. Her eyes turned a cloudy blue, and a frown appeared between them. “I cannot take this.”
“Of course you can. Keep it as a memory of this day.”
“I’ll remember without it.”
“Then as a token of thanks. From me. I enjoyed watching you dance.”
Her cheeks flamed hot. She twisted the band around her finger. Another Gypsy tune was playing in the background, but she didn’t move to the music. “I…I cannot take it,” she said again.
“Go away, then,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“Pardon?”
“Over there.” He pointed to the next tent.
Looking bewildered, she solemnly backed away until he nodded.
“How much?” he whispered to the Gypsy woman. When she told him, he dug out his pouch and paid her, then beckoned Emerald back over.
“You’re supposed to dicker,” she informed him. She tugged off the ring and took one of his hands in hers, turning it palm up as she leaned close to whisper in his ear. “She thinks you’re an easy mark,” she added, depositing the ring in his hand and folding his fingers firmly around it. “Did you notice she didn’t even show you anything made of silver?”
He shrugged and put the ring in his pouch. He would give it back to her later.
“Come, me lady.” The Gypsy woman stood. “I tell your future.”
“I think not,” Emerald said—but somewhat wistfully, Jason thought.
The woman held up one of his coins, her gap-toothed smile appearing again. “No charge.”
“Go ahead,” Jason urged.
“Have we the time? The Gothards—”
“The Gothards ought to be rolling out of bed right about now,” he said dryly.
He could tell Emerald was intrigued. As he was himself—he’d never seen a fortune-telling. It ought to be entertaining. And if the brothers were already on the road, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing should they get ahead.
He felt more comfortable as the pursuer than he did as the pursued.
“Are you sure?” Emerald asked, and when he nodded, she added, “Come with me, then.”
He grinned. “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.”
The Gypsy woman motioned for them to follow her to the edge of the encampment, near where Chiron was grazing lazily. “Milord does not believe in dukkerin’?”
“My lord,” Emerald said, nearly stumbling over the two words if his ears didn’t deceive him, “is a confirmed skeptic.”
He swept off his hat and ducked his head to enter the woman’s tent. Inside he couldn’t stand straight, but the Gypsy motioned him into a beautifully carved gilt chair. Two lamps set on a low table threw glimmering light into the small space, which, in contrast to the clutter outside, appeared immaculate.
Waterproofed canvas lined the ground, and a fringed cloth, patterned with costly metallic thread, covered the table. His hat in his lap, he leaned back and stretched his legs, content to watch the show.
The woman settled Emerald on a low stool, then sat herself on the other side of
