Page 96
Vangie didn’t know what to do. Should she go with Puri Daj? Would Ian come too?
“Halt.” Ian’s firmed voice boomed across the site. Every eye turned to him in expectation.
The magistrate’s and his men’s gazes contained irritation and something a tinge more malevolent.
She looked at Ian expectantly. What was he about? They needed to make haste.
“Roma friends, you do not have to depart,” he announced, triumph resounding in his voice.
Sir Doyle straightened in his saddle. “Here now, Warrick, old chap.”
Ian stiffened beside her. Sir Doyle dared to address him so familiarly? He quirked his eyebrows in askance at the magistrate’s impudence.
“You don’t have authority to make such a declaration, my lord. The law is clear,” he reminded Ian. “Gypsies cannot camp on public land beyond the duration the King’s law allows.” Sir Doyle made a sweeping gesture. “These, people,” he couldn’t keep the scorn from his voice, “were to be gone weeks ago. They’re vagrants, thieves, and trespassers, and they must go.” The last was spewed in a threatening growl.
A wave of guilt swept Vangie. The Roma had lingered longer than usual in hopes of seeing her. And then, when she’d fled Ian and he’d followed her here, they couldn’t very well pack up and leave, could they? She was responsible for their predicament, and she feared for them. If Sir Doyle was as unscrupulous as she suspected, her people were in danger.
Ian gave an amiable nod. “What you say is true.”
Her heart sank, and a sickening sensation crept into her vitals. She gazed around the encampment. How could they possibly depart within the hour? They’d have to leave possessions behind, and they’d so little to begin with.
“But these travelers are not trespassers.”
What?
Vangie’s attention flew to Ian.
He took her elbow and lowered his head. “Trust me, sweeting.” His warm breath caressed her ear. “I’ll explain all.”
Trust him? How she wanted to. But did she dare? He’d just defended her and the Roma. She nodded, cautiously.
“What say you, Lord Warrick?” Sir Doyle exclaimed. “Of course they’re trespassers.”
Ian shook his head, making no attempt to conceal his glee.
She was thoroughly confused. What was he up to?
“’Fraid not, Doyle, old chap.” A grin curled Ian’s mouth, and a merry glint twinkled in his eyes.
She suppressed a smile at his boyishness. He was thoroughly enjoying the magistrate’s agitation.
“The property on this side of the river is part of Sheffleton Cottage Estate. Though the manor house is some distance away, these grounds are privately owned,” he said.
Sir Doyle shrugged his massive shoulders. “What do I care? Gypsies cannot camp on private property either.”
Ian scratched his nose. “True, but they can be deeded portions of estates.” He lifted the papers in his hand. “I’ve the paperwork allowing such an act.”
Clearly annoyed by the turn of events, Sir Doyle rubbed his chin with a ham-like fist. “If you’ve acquired Sheffleton, I’ve not heard of it. I make it my business to be abreast of everything in my jurisdiction.” He folded his arms across his massive chest. “You wouldn’t be lying to an officer of the Crown now, would you?” A nasty smile skewed his mouth. “Are you certain you own Sheffleton Cottage, my lord?”
“No, I do not,” Ian offered wholly unperturbed. “But my wife does.”
“Pardon?” Vangie’s stunned gaze flew to meet his. “What do you mean I own it?”
His tone hushed, Ian swiftly explained. “It was part of the terms of the marriage contract. I had the entire settlement transferred to you before we married.” He brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. “You can deed a portion of the estate to the Roma if you wish.”
“Oh, Ian,” she breathed, overcome with emotion. He’d done this wonderful thing, even before they were married. The glint in his gaze caused her heart to skip. It left a giddy pattering in its wake. She stared into his eyes, momentarily forgetting the world around her.
“Shit.” Sir Doyle’s crude curse yanked her back to the present. He spit again before threatening, “I best not hear another complaint, or I’ll arrest the lot of ’em.” He jerked a thumb at a group of women and children.
Ian crooked an eyebrow mockingly. “All of them, truly? There are at least two score Roma, not including infants and children.”
Fury contorting his face, Sir Doyle ignored Ian. “I intend to investigate the legality of deeding gypsy tramps good English soil. I ain’t accepting yourword for it.”
“You do that, Doyle,” Ian said, grinning
Tugging on his unfortunate horse’s reins, the magistrate spewed foul oaths at the solemn-faced Roma as he thundered from the encampment.
“Good riddance, oversized, flatulent windbag.” Jasper’s declaration earned him an appreciative smile from Simone.
“Mr. Jasper-Faulkenbury, may I offer you refreshment?” she asked. “After your long journey, I’m certain a spot of tea would be in order.”
“Please, call me Jasper. Everyone else does.” He sent a tolerant glance in Ian’s direction. “I would be delighted to accept your gracious offer, madam. First, however, I have an issue of importance to impart to his lordship.”
