A Breath of Scandal (22 page)

“Is that true, my lord?” Ramona asked.

Julian could not lie. He owed these people too much. “More or less, but in my own defense I might add that my leaving had more to do with removing danger from your ranks than abandoning Lara. Unfortunately my enemies decided to act against Lara when they discovered my interest in her. Our engagement has already been announced in the papers.”

“I have no intention of marrying Julian,” Lara said defiantly.

“Pay Lara no heed. We
will
be married,” Julian insisted.

“Tell me what your enemies did to harm Lara,” Ramona said.

“Nothing, really,” Lara said, forestalling Julian’s reply. “Someone hit me on the head at a musicale and … and someone shot at me in the park the other day. But that could have been an accident. I still think the bullet was meant for Julian.”

“It matters not,” Julian said dismissively. “I refuse to play loose with Lara’s life. She is safer here with you than in London with her father.”

Lara made a sound of disgust deep in her throat. “Julian suspects Papa of being involved with smugglers. ’Tis ridiculous. Papa would never hurt me.”

Pietro nodded solemnly. “I agree, little one. Your father is an honorable man. Your suspicions are unfounded, my lord.”

“I agree with Pietro,” Ramona concurred.

“Time will tell,” Julian muttered, wishing he was as sure of Stanhope as Lara and her grandparents.

“You were wise to bring Lara to us, my lord,” Pietro said.

“Drago. Call me Drago,” Julian returned. “My only concern is for Lara’s safety. ’Tis my fault she’s in danger.”

Ramona searched Lara’s face, as if looking for something no one else could see. “I wish to speak alone with my granddaughter.”

“I’ll wait outside for your decision,” Julian said, rising.

“I will leave, also,” Pietro echoed. “Whatever Ramona decides is fine with me.”

* * *

Lara lowered her gaze to her lap and waited for Ramona to speak. Her grandmother was wise beyond this world and Lara knew better than to try to fool her. All Ramona had to do was look into her eyes and her thoughts would be laid bare.

“I know why you did not divorce Drago after he left you, little one,” Ramona began.

“How can you know that when I do not even know myself?”

“I looked into your heart. You returned to your father but you never intended to wed another, despite the fact that your Romany marriage would not be recognized by
gadje
.”

“Perhaps,” Lara admitted.

“You loved Drago even then,” Ramona continued. “Your heart told me what you refused to acknowledge. I read your palm and studied Drago’s tea leaves. I knew fate would bring you and Drago together in London, and that danger would find you.”

“You are wise, Grandmother.”

“But not wise enough to know why you will not marry Drago in a
gadjo
ceremony when you love him.”

Lara’s head shot up. “Drago will never love me like I love him. He is grateful to me and cares what happens to me, but I want more from a husband. I cannot marry a man who will never return my love.”

“How do you know this, little one?”

“Julian loved his betrothed dearly. She was killed by his enemies, though ’twas made to look like an accident. His heart resists another love. He remains faithful to a dead woman while I yearn for his love. How can I stay with Julian knowing I am not the one for whom he is pining?”

“Shall I send Drago away?” Ramona asked.

Lara’s hand flew to her throat. “No! Do not send him away. It could mean his death, and I couldn’t exist in a world without Julian.”

“Do you intend to live as his mate during your visit?”

Lara averted her gaze. “I … don’t know.”

“What if Drago plants his child in you?”

A tiny smile curved her lips as she touched her stomach and pictured a miniature Julian growing there. “If God wills it,” she whispered, “I will love it as much as I …” Her words fell away.

“As much as you love his father,” Ramona said, nodding sagely.

“Oh, Ramona, what shall I do?” Lara wailed on a note of despair. “When Julian learned he had taken the virginity of an earl’s daughter, his honor demanded that he marry me, but I cannot live without love.”

“Give me your palm, little one,” Ramona said, holding out her hand.

Trustingly Lara placed her small hand in Ramona’s, then waited with bated breath while the old woman traced the lines with a gnarled finger. Ramona seemed to go into a trance. She closed her eyes. An eternity later she spoke.

“You will have love, little one,” she said in a singsong voice. “The kind of love you desire.”

“With Julian?” Lara asked hopefully.

“I know not, but I see happiness at the end of a long tunnel through which you will travel. You must beware, little one. Danger lurks in places least expected.”

“What else can you tell me? What advice can you give me about Julian?”

Ramona’s eyes jerked open as if awakening from a dream. “You must follow your own heart. Do you still want Drago to stay with us? Before you answer, think carefully. Everyone here considers you and Drago husband and wife.”

Lara searched her heart, seeking answers that could prove painful. In the end, her problem had but one solution. Julian needed a safe refuge, and a Romany camp perfectly suited his needs. She loved him too much to send him back to his enemies.

“Julian must stay,” she whispered shakily. “Do not send him away, Grandmother.”

Ramona touched Lara’s cheek and smiled. “I knew your answer before you gave it, little one. Finish your tea. Then you can go and tell Drago that he may remain with us for as long as he desires.”

Julian sat on the steps while Lara and Ramona were inside the wagon. If he was allowed to remain, it wouldn’t be beyond a week or two. That should be long enough to make sure he and Lara hadn’t been followed, and that the Jackal was no longer a threat to Lara.

Julian was so engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice Rondo heading his way. He was more than a little surprised to find the handsome young Gypsy standing beside him.

“Why have you come back?” Rondo asked curtly. “We do not need your kind here.”

Julian slanted him a condescending smile. “What kind is that, Rondo?”

“You dishonored Lara. You never intended to honor your marriage to her.”

“She should have told me she was the daughter of an earl.”

“Do not lie to me. Admit that Lord Stanhope sent her away when he found out she was ruined, that no
gadjo
would have her now. That would not matter to me. I’ve always wanted Lara. But it was you, a man with a violent past, who stole her affections. Go away and leave Lara to me. She was never comfortable with
gadje
. You will only hurt her.”

“I fear you have misjudged my commitment to Lara,” Julian drawled. “I’ve asked her to marry me. We will wed in a ceremony sanctioned by English law.”

The color drained from Rondo’s face. “What can you give her besides danger and heartache?”

Julian had a good notion to tell Rondo that he was an earl and that Lara would be his countess, but wisely remained silent. He couldn’t trust Rondo to keep the information private.

“Sheath your claws, Rondo, nothing will happen to Lara as long as she’s under my protection.”

“Can you guarantee that?” Rondo challenged.

Julian frowned. He’d like to guarantee Lara’s safety, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure. That’s why he’d brought her here.

“Can you?” Julian shot back.

“I would if Lara were mine.”

“Ah, but she isn’t. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it?”

“Aye. I expected Lara to grow tired of London and return to us. Then I would press my suit. Lara is happiest here, with those who love her.”

Julian’s reply was forestalled when the door opened and Lara stepped out, followed by Ramona. He rose and waited for them to join him.

“Allowing Drago to remain here is a mistake,” Rondo charged.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Ramona said with asperity.

Without another word, Rondo whirled on his heel and stalked off.

“He’s jealous,” Julian said.

A stunned expression marched across Lara’s face. “Jealous? Why is he jealous? We were never more than good friends. He always knew my father would choose a husband for me when the time came to marry.”

“But you chose your own husband, did you not, little one?” Ramona said with a chuckle. “Take Drago to your wagon. Pietro will see to your carriage and horses.”

“I’ll get our bags,” Julian said, striding away. He needed a moment alone to think. Rondo’s animosity was not a good thing. He didn’t want to cause strife for the people who had saved his life. ’Twas best that he limit his stay to a few days, just long enough to see Lara settled before returning to London to continue his investigation.

Julian helped Pietro unhitch the horses, then carried their bags to the wagon he was to share with Lara. Lara had arrived before him and had already changed into the comfortable clothing she preferred. He set the bags down and studied her profile as she loosed her hair from its prim bun and ran a brush through the curly raven tresses. Each downward stroke brought new life to those lustrous strands that refused to be tamed no matter how industrious her efforts to conform to society’s dictates.

He stared with appreciation at an elegant bare shoulder exposed by the low neckline of the peasant blouse she had changed into, admiring the way her colorful skirts swung temptingly around her slim ankles. Julian felt a tightening in his groin and had to clench his fists to keep from tossing her on the bed, pushing her skirts up, and thrusting himself inside her. He looked away lest his expression give away his thoughts.

Lara hadn’t felt so free since she’d left the Romany camp weeks ago. The restrictions society placed on her and all women was unbearable. She glanced at Julian, wondering if he’d ever felt like abandoning his title and duties and just enjoying his life. Somehow she doubted it.

Her gaze settled on his face, catching him momentarily unaware. She inhaled sharply, for she’d never seen him quite so focused, so intense. His midnight blue eyes held a certain gleam she’d seen only during their most intimate moments. He caught her watching him and she smiled guiltily.

“What are you thinking?” Lara asked. “You seem so absorbed. Are you worried about Rondo? Don’t be. Pietro will keep him in line.”

“Rondo doesn’t worry me.”

Lara resumed brushing through her tangle of curls. “What is it, then?”

She could hear his breathing, the harsh intake and exhalation, as if he were consciously regulating it. He stepped closer. Her gaze returned to his face and she backed a shaky step away from whatever emotion he strove so hard to control.

“What’s wrong, Julian?”

“I … bloody hell, I don’t understand any of this.” He shook his head and turned away. “I don’t know why I cannot control this raw hunger for you that constantly gnaws at my soul. Have you bewitched me, little Gypsy? If so, release me. I do not like this state of upheaval in which you hold me. Not even Diana …”

He groaned out an oath and stormed out the door without looking back. Had he glanced over his shoulder, he would have seen Lara’s face crumple and tears gather in her eyes.

Why couldn’t Julian see what was before him? Lara wondered dismally. Was his love for his dead fiancée still so alive and vital that he refused to let another woman supplant her in his affections? Why did he have to be so heedless of her feelings? Could he not trust his emotions to tell him what was in his heart?

Lara dried her eyes and turned her mind in another, less painful, direction. She had been surprised at Rondo’s jealousy. He had been, and still was, her friend. How could he think otherwise? He’d always known she must eventually wed an Englishman. Julian and Rondo had been engaged in conversation while she and Ramona were inside the wagon, and from the looks on their faces, it had been a serious discussion. What had Rondo said to Julian?

That night they ate with Pietro and Ramona. After the meal, people drifted by to welcome them back. Later, Lara noticed that Julian appeared restless and asked if he’d like to take a walk.

“Aye,” Julian said. “I’m too unsettled to sleep. There is something I wish to discuss with you and now is as good a time as any.”

“And I have something to ask of you,” Lara answered.

Arm in arm they strolled off toward the brook. Nights were cooler now, and Lara shivered in the damp air.

“You forgot your cloak,” Julian commented as he removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders.

They followed the brook around a bend, moving farther away from the camp. When they reached a grassy knoll Julian’s steps slowed.

“Shall we sit down?”

Lara sank down to the ground. She drew her knees up, folded her arms around them, and waited for Julian to begin. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted to say to her.

“You go first,” Julian invited. “What did you want to ask me?”

“ ’Tis about Rondo. I saw you speaking together earlier. He appeared angry.”

A long pause. “He was. He’s jealous of me.”

Lara shook her head in dismay. “Rondo and I are friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Tell that to Rondo. Our Romany marriage disturbs him. He was happy when I returned to London. He thought you would divorce me and remain with the caravan.”

“That’s ridiculous. I joined my father in London shortly after you left.”

“Rondo expected you to tire of London and the restrictions imposed upon you and return to your grandparents. He thought I’d abandoned you and hoped to gain your affections. He wanted to be more than a friend to you. I suppose he expected you to divorce me however Roms do it, and turn to him.”

“Rondo thought wrong. I would have done as my father wished no matter how much I disliked English ways.”

“Would you have married the man your father chose for you?” Julian asked.

“I … don’t know. ’Twould have been easy enough to divorce you and forsake our Romany marriage, but I probably wouldn’t have. Divorce you, that is. As you pointed out countless times, our marriage isn’t recognized by English courts, so there was no need for a Romany divorce.”