For Love of a Gypsy Lass Read Online Free Page A

sighed. “I see danger here for you, my Talaitha.” She patted her on the cheek. “So we leave before dawn.”
    “What danger, Baba Florica? What possible danger can there be for me here?” But she knew the answer. The fire in her belly flared as she thought of him—the handsome Gadjo . She would not refuse him a third time even though she knew it to be prikaza, bad luck. Only sorrow and regret could follow. She would be despised by her clan for the rest of her life if she consented to the lord’s wishes. Even worse, they might leave her behind, and she would never look on their faces again.
    “Yes.” Her grandmother looked at her closely. “That is why.”
    She wanted to cry out that she didn’t care, that she would embrace the danger; that they should stay for the time they had planned, but she knew it would do no good. The others always listened to the old woman’s advice because she was their Puri Dai. She never changed her mind.
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     

     
    Talaitha sat on the steps of her family’s vardo, trying to think about the songs she would be singing shortly—the last of the evening. However, she could not keep her mind properly on them. Rather, much to her irritation, it dwelled on the Gadjo lord. He would come to Grinell Green—well, at least he had said he would—and he would find them gone. They had left, like thieves, well before dawn and traveled most of the day, then set up camp in this new town. Would he be sad? Would he come at all? Would he would he think of her often as she thought of him?
    He had promised her a home, a carriage, jewels. Surely these things would include warm fires, plentiful food, and even clothing with no patches. She would never again be cold or hungry, she would no longer wish for pretty clothes. She would go about in her carriage like a fine Gadji .
    No. She shook her head. She must not think of these things and she must not think of him.
    She flushed with anger when she thought of how Delilah had flirted with him. Perhaps if they had remained at Grinell Green, and she herself had continued to reject him, he would have paid his respects to Delilah, perhaps would have offered her some gold coins. He’d be wasting his time, though. None of the women in their clan would give themselves to a Gadjo . They all planned to marry Romanichal . None would be willing to settle down to the boring stationary life. If she had given in to her desire for him, and he had what he craved from her, then what? Her own people would despise her and his would surely do the same. She would be lost—there would be no place in the world for her.
    But the handkerchiefs. The two he’d given Delilah had a boldly painted scene on it of a canal and a man in a little boat with a pole and a funny hat, while he’d given her six—each with different fine embroidery. Delilah’s, she realized, were simply a gift of courtesy and appreciation—or even a small token because Delilah was her friend.
    Why was she thinking all this? That lord would never want more than an amusing diversion with a Romani lass. And any lass would do. And even if he did truly want her, there was no way he could learn where she was. And besides, she did not want him… Didn’t she? Oh, but she did. That was the problem; she wanted him with all her heart.
    “Stop it,” she told herself. “Stop it and forget him.”
    But no sooner had she said that than she thought of him again. She was driving herself mad. No man had ever filled her mind the way he did.
    Delilah came running to where she sat, grabbed her arm tightly, and pulled her to her feet and over to the middle of the field in which they were camped.
    “He is here, your lord is here.” She pointed up the hill. “There is his carriage. We did not hear it arrive because Cambio is playing so loudly on the stage.”
    Talaitha saw it. The same perfectly matched four horses, the same coat of arms on the door.
    “Aren’t you going to greet him?” Delilah