The poor man was in a quandary. He had no legal rights over Yasmin, whom he had housed from pure charity. He later admitted he had considered approaching her mother's brother, whose name he had discovered from Mrs Boswell, but had accepted that if anyone had a claim on Yasmin it was her grandmother rather than an uncle who did not know of her existence, and who would in all probability have rejected her if he had.
'But if he still has no children, you would be his heir, and from all I hear he is a warm man,' he said worriedly. 'We ought at least to write and tell him about you.'
'I have no desire to inherit anything from someone who could so ill-treat my mother,' Yasmin declared vehemently.
'But you have his direction. Promise me that if, at any time in the future, you need help and I cannot give it to you, you will approach him?'
Unable to envisage such an unlikely contingency, Yasmin happily promised, and it was arranged she would join her grandmother on the day before the gypsies left the district. The rector had sent to tell Mrs Forbes Yasmin had accepted another post, and she suspected that was what he told everyone else, for she was certain he was dismayed for her and regretted his part in arranging her future. Yasmin had no feelings of dismay, only an intense excitement, and the first happiness she had known since her mother's death, as she took her most precious belongings and joined her father's people.
Chapter 2
Yasmin scarcely slept that first night as she lay beside her grandmother and watched the stars through the open door of the van. The excitement lasted for several days, especially as she realised her memory of the old days with the tribe was returning to her. Occasionally she surprised herself by recalling where things were kept, and she recognised some of the older members of the tribe, who all declared they remembered Yasmin, and debated whether she was most like her mother or her father. Now Yasmin solved several minor puzzles that had worried her in her first few years living with Aunt Georgiana. She now knew her dark eyes and skin, so arresting and unusual with her golden hair, were from her father, a gypsy. And her name came from his mother, who was another Yasmin.
'Why do I have a name that is different?' she had often asked Aunt Georgiana, protesting she knew no one else of that name. 'It is not a royal name, like yours, for King George, nor yet a name from the Bible, like Ruth and Rebecca at the Rectory. Nor is it the name of a saint, like the Papists have, like Dominick Weld,' she had recited when she was about eight years old.
'It is a lovely name, and do you not like having a name all your own?' Aunt Georgiana had asked. That consoled Yasmin a little, and when the others teased her about it she had retorted she was special, for no one else shared her name.
The Boswells made Yasmin very welcome, but it took her some considerable time to sort out the tangled relationships, the cousins and second cousins, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters amongst the forty or so members of the tribe. Yasmin quickly realised Mrs Boswell was regarded as their leader, but also that she relied a great deal upon Leon, the son of her eldest daughter, and so Yasmin's cousin. There was much talk of Pedro, but when, puzzled, Yasmin enquired about him, she was told little apart from the fact that he had gone on a journey.
'He is my brother's grandson,' her grandmother explained, 'and a little older than Leon.'
That was all she heard, and there were so many new people to become acquainted with she soon dismissed thoughts of Pedro from her mind, reasoning she would know him soon enough when he returned.
The tribe were making for the westward counties, where they spent the coldest months of winter, but they were to visit several fairs on the way. Yasmin was anxious to help with the work, though unable to see how she could be of use, and somewhat apprehensive of displaying herself before the crowds of a fair. She had never even been to one and did not know in the least what to expect, but the others reassured her.
'You will help me at first,' Mrs Boswell had decreed. 'I tell fortunes, and there is need for someone in the outer tent to inform those that are waiting when I am ready for them.'
That did not seem too arduous, and it was the task Yasmin began to perform at the first fair. They had travelled for three days to this, and Yasmin was becoming excited at the prospect. Early in the morning everyone was exceedingly busy as they set up the stalls and tents and made everything ready. There were several other tribes of gypsies, many tinkers displaying their wares, country folk selling their spare produce, and various entertainers, jugglers and rope walkers and a pathetic looking bear that shambled wearily along at the end of a chain held by his weasel-faced master. The noise was appalling with the hammering of wood as the stalls were erected, the shouts of the workers, and screams of excited children, all mingling with the lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep.
Before all was ready the villagers started to arrive, anxious to obtain bargains and make the most of this day, since for many of them it was one of the few highlights of their drab lives. They wandered about inspecting the stalls, impatient but good tempered. Mrs Boswell gave Yasmin her instructions, and disappeared into the inner tent while Yasmin stationed herself on a small platform beside the entrance, ready to direct anyone wishing to consult the fortune teller. She was exceedingly nervous, but Leon had placed his own stall nearby, where he set out the beautiful carvings he made, and he smiled encouragingly towards Yasmin as she stood on the platform.
* * * *
They were not very busy at first, for people were more interested in securing bargains than having their fortunes told. After they had made their purchases, however, they were ready for the entertainments, and began with much laughter and sly jesting to urge each other forwards. After the first few bashful girls had entered the tent, there was a sudden rush, and Yasmin was kept too busy to be concerned over what she was doing, so that when there was a lull and Leon strolled over to talk with her she was confident and happy in the knowledge she was being useful. He lavished praise on her, and then moved away as another customer approached his stall.
Yasmin looked idly round at the colourful scene, noticing that now there were many more fashionable people about. Would they be interested in having their fortunes told, she wondered. They were. Several came across to the tent and Yasmin learned her grandmother had a startling reputation for accuracy. After this group had departed, Yasmin's attention was distracted as she admired the cleverness of a juggler nearby, keeping a multitude of balls in the air at the same time, and she did not see the next customers approaching. The first she knew of their presence was when she heard a girl's voice right beside her.
'Oh, Ned, I declare, I simply must have my fortune told! How delicious!'
Yasmin swung round quickly, and saw him. For a moment it seemed as though her heart had stopped beating, and she caught her breath, staring helplessly at him. Standing on the platform as she was Yasmin could see over the heads of the crowd, but he was tall and broad shouldered, and his face was only just below hers. For a few seconds their eyes met and held, and then he turned away and looked, smiling, down into the face of the girl beside him.
'And Charlotte must never be denied anything,' he said softly, and then laughed.
His voice was deep and musical, and Yasmin's senses tingled as she heard it. She was staring at his face as his profile was turned towards her, and memories of the pictures of Greek gods she had seen swam before her eyes. He was fair, with a high forehead, straight, thick eyebrows, and a proud, aristocratic nose. She had seen his eyes were a deep blue before he had turned away from her, and she saw the sensuously curving lips above a determined chin as he smiled at his companion.
Yasmin glanced at her for the first time, and her heart contracted, for she was remarkably pretty. She had slight, delicate features, large china blue eyes, and bronzed hair that curled delightfully about her fragile face. She laughed up at him, and gave him a saucy, intimate smile.
'Would you not like to know what life has in store for you, Ned?' she queried softly. 'I am longing to know, indeed I am!'
'It might not all be pleasant,' he warned in what Yasmin thought a protective manner.
The charmer pouted prettily. 'Then I shall merely be warned, and able to avoid the unpleasant parts,' she retorted. 'Maria, you will join me, will you not?'
Yasmin looked then at the other girl, whom she had not until that moment noticed. It was obvious she bore some relationship to the man, though her hair was darker and her features less strongly drawn.
'But of course I will,' she answered lightly, and they mounted the two steps towards Yasmin.
'I pray you will excuse me,' the man said quickly. 'I will await you here.'
'I shall ask Madame Boswell to tell
me
your fortune,' the one he had called Charlotte told him laughingly, and swept past into the outer part of the tent where the customers waited. 'Do we go in together?' she asked Yasmin, pausing before the curtain that led to the inner part.
'It is as you wish,' Yasmin managed, having torn herself away from the man who had affected her so deeply, and followed them in.
'Well, Maria? I have no secrets from you, so shall we venture together?' she asked laughingly, and the other consenting, they were led through to seat themselves before Mrs Boswell.
Yasmin escaped and went again onto the platform. The man was still there, and smiled at her as she emerged from the tent. She stared back, unable to return his smile, and wondering what in the world had come over her to cause her to behave in so odd a fashion.
* * * *
'Where did they find the golden gypsy?' he asked curiously, nodding towards her hair.
Yasmin raised her hand towards it unconsciously. 'Mrs Boswell is my grandmother,' she replied in a low voice.
He raised his eyebrows in sudden surprise, and she thought at first it was at her information. She soon found it was something else.
'You do not speak like a gypsy,' he commented.
'No, for I did not always live with them,' Yasmin answered, uncertain how to reply to this remark.
He continued to look at her, obviously puzzled, but did not speak again since Leon, who had been watching him talk with Yasmin, strolled over and leant back against the rail, his head close to Yasmin's arm.
'Is grandmother busy, cousin?' Leon asked abruptly, and Yasmin nodded. He smiled at her and then glanced at the stranger. They were of a height, and though Leon was slightly broader, the excellent fit of the stranger's coat and riding breeches showed he was a very muscular young man. He seemed amused, and commented on the vast number of people at the fair.
'More than last year, by my reckoning,' he said, and soon had Leon talking animatedly with him about the various fairs that took place in the district. Then they moved across to Leon's stall where the stranger inspected the carvings.
Yasmin stood and watched, unable to take her eyes from him, until a sound from behind her warned her the girls were emerging. She turned, a mechanical smile on her lips, but they ignored her, and laughing together stepped from the platform. Ned came back to meet them.
'Oh, Ned, it was all of warnings and danger,' Charlotte was saying animatedly. 'Maria was warned not to trust one close to her. I wonder if that could have meant you? There was a dark man who would cause trouble. That cannot be you,' she said consideringly. 'I wonder if it could be your cousin Richard? He is the darkest man I know. Oh, and I must take heed not to be rash. Really, it was all so gloomy, and there was no promise of the delights I had been hoping for!'
She laughed and turned away, her interest caught by something on the other side of the path, and before he turned to follow her Ned looked up at Yasmin, smiling a long slow smile, his eyes glinting with some message she could not read. Thinking he mocked her, she coloured and turned away swiftly to hide her blushes. When she looked round again he was gone, and did not reappear. For some reason the day seemed colder to Yasmin, and the sun less bright afterwards.
* * * *
The tribe was exceedingly merry that night, for the takings at the fair had been good. They sat about the fire in the darkness, singing many songs, some familiar to Yasmin, but most completely strange.
'You have a good voice, Yasmin, dear,' her grandmother commented, and she was persuaded to sing for them. She fetched her guitar, which she had brought with her, and tremulously at first, but gaining confidence with their genuine appreciation and applause, sang some of her favourite songs.
'This is what you can do,' Leon said as she returned to sit beside him when it was another's turn.
'How do you mean?' she asked, startled, for she had been thinking of the stranger as she sang, and her mind was far away from the encampment.
'To earn your living,' he said, laughing down at her. 'It was what your mother did. She had an enchanting voice too. And you could dance. We will teach you, and then you can entertain the folk.'
Yasmin thrilled at the generous praise, though she was a little shy at the thought of performing in front of a crowd of strangers. But the fairs were soon over for that year, and she had insufficient practice to perform at the last few they attended that autumn. It was necessary to learn the special gypsy songs, and Yasmin determined to spend the winter evenings doing that in readiness for the following year.
By now the gypsies were in the Devonshire countryside, and they settled in a small cove sheltered from the land by high cliffs and the sea by a stout wall. This was where the tribe normally spent the winter months, and Yasmin found the life enthralling, so different from the quiet peaceful days with Aunt Georgiana. She still missed her mother enormously, and grieved deeply for her, but since the grief was shared in part by these people who had also known and loved her, it was made easier to bear. There was so much to do and learn the days sped past, but in the nights Yasmin often found herself dreaming of the stranger who had made such a deep impression on her at the first fair she had ever attended.