—Sir John Suckling
“Song”
The revelation that Brisbane was a skillful prizefighter was not the only one disclosed that night. As he pulled on his shirt, collecting the approbation of those who had profited from his victory, he talked with them, his voice clearly audible to me, even over the crowd. But it sounded strangely unlike his voice, and it took me almost a full minute to realize why.
Brisbane was speaking Romany. He was speaking, my addled brain told me, a language that he could not possibly know. But of course he did know it. Fluently and idiomatically, to judge by the laughter of his companions. His hands moved as he spoke, sketching the dramatic gestures that every Roma uses to punctuate his speech. He knew this fluid tongue, and there was only one way he could have learned it.
As Brisbane paused in his conversation to reach for his shirt, Val made to raise a hand in greeting. I slapped it down, motioning him to silence. “We must go. Now,” I said through clenched teeth. “Before he sees us.”
“What the devil is wrong with you? We’ve been scouring the Heath for the better part of the evening, looking for him, and now that we have found him, you want to leave?”
“I will explain it all later. Just come with me—now.”
To his credit he came, although still muttering about the inconsistency of women. I did not much blame him. I was busy cursing my own stupidity. How could I not have seen it? I had repeatedly remarked to myself upon his swarthiness, hisunEnglishness.I had thought him French or perhaps even a Jew. But I had never once imagined the truth.
We made for the tent flap, moving quickly and quietly behind the crowd so as not to attract attention. But just as I put my hand to the flap, it was brushed aside by a man entering. Magda’s brother, Jasper. I pulled back hard, slamming into Val, but Jasper did not see either of us. His gaze was focused on Brisbane, who swung his head around as if on a wire. Jasper gave him a perceptible nod and melted out of the tent as quietly as he had come.
“Oh, no,” I breathed. Val put a questioning hand on my shoulder, but I shook my head and slipped out of the tent, careful to move in the direction opposite to the one that Jasper had taken. We had walked only a few steps when Val seized my arm and dragged me behind a caravan.
“What is the matter with you? You have insisted we must find Mr. Brisbane, and there he is. You wanted to find Magda’s people, and we have just seen Jasper. What is it you want?”
I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “I want to get out of this place without Brisbane knowing I’ve come. I should not have followed him here and I have seen something I was not meant to see.”
“His business with Jasper?”
I rubbed at the place on my arm where he had gripped me. I had not realized Val’s fingers were so strong. I would have a bruise there.
“No, not entirely. Well, yes, that is part of it. Jasper has apparently decided to give Brisbane what he came for.”
“And what is that?” he asked.
“The rope to hang you with.”
“What?” His voice was incredulous. “Julia, what are you talking about? This has nothing to do with me. You said you engaged Mr. Brisbane on a matter of business. How does that involve me?”
“It is too complicated to explain now. I thought I had taken care of it, and it seems I have done nothing but complicate matters to the utmost. I do not yet know how I will put it right, but I will. I must get home, though, and quickly.”
I heard the imploring note in my voice and so did Val. He relented. He gave me a quick nod and we turned for the far side of the camp, where I prayed the cabman would still be waiting. It would be a long ride back to Grey House, but at the end of it I could count on a hot meal and a hotter bath.
I stepped out from behind the caravan and into the fitful light of a crowded campfire. And at just that moment Nicholas Brisbane moved out of the shadow of the boxing tent, lifting his head, sniffing the air like a dog. His eyes roved past the firelight, skimming lightly over the figures moving between us. They came to rest on me, peering through the gloom. His eyes narrowed, his teeth bared, and I took to my heels.
I had something of a head start—perhaps an eighth of a mile. But it did not matter. I had known almost as soon as I began to run that he would catch me up. I did not dare to imagine what he might do to me once he did. But I was soon to find out.
I suppose I expected him to beat me. Some might have even said he was justified. I had discovered that which was never meant to be known. Most Englishmen held Gypsies as lower than dogs. Less than a Jew, better than an African? No, I knew ladies who kept blackamoor pages quite happily, but would never let a Roma set foot in their house. They were thought to be capable of any treachery, cunning and malicious and black-hearted as devils. I could not blame Brisbane for not confiding in me. I, too, would have hidden my bloodlines under the circumstances.
But I did not think my sympathy would win me any points this night. So I fled, dashing past campfires and under clotheslines, dodging onlookers and mocking laughter on my way across the camp with Brisbane in furious pursuit. I put on a burst of speed as we neared the carriages, hearing him closing behind me with every stride, Val wheezing along somewhere behind. And then I realized that Brisbane had eased into a lope. He was keeping pace with me, but deliberately he did not close, allowing me to lead him to the hackney where he could catch me up easily and have at me in private.
Gasping, I reached the door and had just grasped the handle when his hand came down hard upon mine. His shirt was open, sweat-stuck to his sides. Absurdly, I noticed his pendant, lying in the hollow of his throat. I noticed, too, that I had lost my hat somewhere along the way. I should have to order a new one, I mused. If I lived so long.
Val skittered up, a hand pressed to his side.
“Mr. Brisbane, what are you about, chasing my sister all over God’s own creation?” he demanded loudly.
Keeping his hand firmly anchored upon mine, Brisbane turned to Val. He might have omitted the precaution. My side was burning from the run, and he looked barely winded. If I decided to flee I would not make it three steps before he caught me again.
“Have a care for her reputation,” Brisbane advised softly. “Do you have any notion of what would become of her if it became known that she visited a Gypsy camp dressed like that?”
Val flushed angrily. “You think I should have prevented it.”
