"Did he badger you about it?"
"No, there was no need. We learned soon enough that your mother was pregnant with you, and Ivan convinced himself that she would return to us with her child, which is why we did not leave that area. It is the longest ever that we have remained in one place."
"But why do you want me to marry Nicolai now? You have helped me to avoid it all these years. What has changed your mind?"
"My mind is not changed, Anna. I said nothing about marrying Nicolai, just that you must marry."
Anastasia's eyes widened, for this had never occurred to her. "Marry someone else? But how can I, when I have been bought and paid for?"
"Marry someone else among us? No, you cannot. It would be the gravest insult to Ivan. Nicolai would never accept such an insult either. He would kill whoever you would choose. But a Gajo would be another matter."
"A Gajo?" Anastasia said incredulously. "An outsider not of the blood? How can you even suggest it?"
"How can I not, child, when it is your only alternative—unless you wish to live under Nicolai's fist the rest of your life?"
As earlier, Anastasia shuddered. She had long known that she would leave the band first, before she would submit to Nicolai. And what difference, leaving or marrying an outsider? Either way, she would be leaving.
She sighed. "I suppose you have a plan, Gran? Please tell me that you do."
The old woman patted her hand with a smile. "Of course I do, and a very simple one at that. You must bewitch a Gap into asking to marry you. Then you must convince the band that you love him. Love makes the difference on how this will be viewed. One can betray one's people and all that one believes in, for love. This is understandable, acceptable. You must be convincing, though. If it is thought that you do this just to avoid marrying Nicolai, then the Lautarus are insulted. You will do as your mother did. For her it was real. She really did love her Gajo. For you it will be a lie, but one used to escape the future you say you cannot accept. And perhaps, if you are lucky, it will not remain a lie."
Do as her mother had done? Maria's daughter, Anastasia's mother, had fallen in love with a Russian boyar, one of the princeling nobles in that land. She had died giving birth to his child, a child he would have kept if it had been a son. But he had no use for a daughter, and so Maria had been allowed to take her granddaughter and raise her.
Anastasia had never met her father, nor had she ever had the desire to. She didn't even know if he still lived. She didn't care. A man who had found no value in her was nothing to her. And if she carried a small bit of bitterness in her heart over his rejection of her, she kept it to herself.
Maria knew how she felt, of course. Maria knew everything. She could look into people's eyes and know exactly what was in their heart. Nothing could be hidden from Maria. But Maria did not always have the answers to the questions that went against the natural philosophies of their people, which was when she would conveniently use the Russian as an excuse.
She did this now, reminding Anastasia, "You are different from the rest of us. Your father's blood shows in this. But that is not a bad thing. You have never stolen, never told a Gap a lie to fleece him of a few coins. These are natural things for us to do, and to brag of, making fools of Gaps, yet you scorn such behavior. In that you are your father's daughter, too noble of blood to belittle yourself in what you would deem dishonorable ways. I never tried to break this in you or teach you any differently. It is a good thing to have qualities from both parents, if both parents had good qualities for you to inherit."
"I never wanted to be different."
"I know," Maria said softly. "But one cannot help what one is born to be."
"But won't Ivan threaten to kill me if I leave, as he did my mother?"
"No, not this time. I will convince him that if he keeps you from your love, your broken heart will more likely bring him disaster, rather than good fortune. I will also remind him that you could divorce your Gap at any time and return to the band. This is something you can do,
Anna, so keep that in mind if you find yourself unhappy in your choice. And if you do return, you will not have to worry about Nicolai ever again. Your marriage to a Gajo will break your contract with the Lautarus. You can then do as you please, marry whom you please, marry no one if you please. The choice will once again be yours to be made at your leisure."
"But I know nothing of bewitching men. How can I do this? You expect too much of me."
"Do not doubt yourself, child. Look at you. This band has never seen a prettier woman. You have your mother's glorious black hair with just enough curl to look wanton. You have your father's purest blue eyes, his fair skin. You have your mother's insight, her compassion. Many was the fight she got into with the band, to protect some Gajo she felt sorry for. You have done the same. You bewitch every man who looks at you. You just do not notice, because until now, you have not cared."
"I just do not see how this can be done, in so short a time. Two months—"
"One week," Maria cut in adamantly.
"But—"
"One week, Anna, no longer. Go to that town near here tomorrow. Look carefully at every man you see. Speak to those who interest you. Use your talent to help you. But make a choice, then bring him to me. I will know if he is a good choice."
"But do I want a good choice?"
A question like that might have caused confusion in another, but not Maria. "You think to just use this man for a short time, then divorce him so you can return to the band? Only you can answer, child, if you can live with using a man this way. I would have no difficulty doing so, but I am not you. I think you would prefer to be happy in your choice, to make your first marriage be your only marriage."
Maria was right, of course. Going from marriage to marriage was not much different than going from man to man. Anastasia, at least, didn't see much difference in the two. She saw love as lasting forever. Anything less could not really be love.
Unfortunately, she didn't see how, under the time constraint Maria was giving her, she could possibly find a man, an Englishman at that, whom she would want to stay married to. She was about to question the time constraint again when Maria's expression, for the second time, turned very serious, and her hand was once again gripped by those gnarled fingers.
