Read The Untamable Rogue Online

Authors: Cathy McAllister

Tags: #Romance, #Victorian, #England, #Historical, #Fiction

The Untamable Rogue (4 page)

BOOK: The Untamable Rogue
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“You don’t need those any longer,” said Grandmother Aneta, pointing to a blue dress with black embroidery at the top. “That is for you.”

“But I can’t …,” I objected.

“Oh, nonsense! – Come on, it’ll definitely fit you. Put it on – I want to see.”

I was about to say that Grandmother Aneta could not see whether it fit me, but I quickly changed my mind. It would be impolite to refer to the old woman’s blindness.

“OK, I’ll try it on,” I submitted and swung out of the bed.

The dress fitted me as if it were made for me. The bodice sat perfectly and the wide skirt flattered my slim figure.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, and I meant it. Although the material was not as valuable as I was accustomed to, the cut was perfect and the stitches neat and tidy.

Grandmother Aneta touched me with her fingers. I was uncomfortable about this but I kept still. I did not want to hurt the old woman’s feelings. Although she still seemed very strange to me I had begun to feel sympathy for her.

“Yes, it is as if it were made for you,” said the old woman finally, satisfied. “Now, come on, I’m hungry and we don’t want to keep the others waiting.”

Chapter 4

W
ith an uncomfortable
feeling I walked out of the waggon behind Grandmother Aneta. It was a pleasant, sunny morning and the sky was deep blue with little white clouds. The aroma of food hung in the air. Happy voices and laughter entered my ears, coupled with the sounds of summer. The clan was sitting in the shade of a large tree. Everyone turned their heads and looked at me with curiosity.  – Everyone bar one man with shoulder-length black locks. This man did not seem to notice me – or at least did not want to. I looked around more. Next to Santino there was a breathtakingly beautiful, middle-aged woman. I wondered whether that was Sergio’s mother.  Her intelligent eyes looked at me with interest and then she gave me a friendly smile. I had already seen the same smile from Sergio, so that really had to be Sergio’s mother. I felt a little awkward being the centre of attention. My presence in this camp was probably giving rise to a great deal of speculation as to where I was from and what had made me travel in men’s clothing. However I was fairly certain that neither Sergio nor his father will have told anyone else my story.

Sergio waved to me and indicated that I should sit in the empty space next to him. I was given food and drink, and people resumed their discussions. No one took any notice of me any more except Sergio who was entertaining me with stories. He was surprisingly amusing and intelligent. These gypsies really puzzled me. I found it hard to work these people out. They were completely different from what I had imagined; not that I could define the way I had in fact imagined them to be. I had never had anything to do with such people. Now and then I had heard about robberies and other crimes. I had seen performances at the market where men swallowed fire and women danced with snakes. These thoughts suddenly made me start.

“Err, Sergio? Can I …,” I began awkwardly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course! What would you like to know?”

“Ha… Have you got sn… I mean, snakes?”

Sergio laughed – a pleasant, throaty laugh.

“My mother has a boa. Why do you ask? Afraid?”

He looked at me, amused, and I blushed.

“Do you have oth… other wild animals?” I asked uneasily.

Sergio shook his head, laughing.

“No, just my mother with her damned snake. She used to dance.”

I looked at his mother furtively. She seemed to be a brave woman; a woman who defied the brawny leader and dangerous monsters.

“So, does she no longer dance?” I was curious to know.

“No. Not for several years now.”

I looked across at the man with the shoulder-length hair who was still determined to ignore me and I wondered who he was. He was attractive – in a wild and dangerous way. His dark locks hung over his face, dishevelled. His facial features were angular and chiselled, and his nose was a little too big and had been broken at least once. Above his right eyebrow he had a small scar. All in all he looked like the typical rogue. At the same time his mouth was almost unashamedly sensual. He had no moustache, whereas most of the other men in the camp did. It looked as if he had not shaved for days which gave him an even wilder appearance.

He suddenly looked in my direction, and his gaze, from dark, almost black eyes, moved slowly over my body, remaining for longer that decency permitted upon my bosom, and he then looked boldly straight into my face, with a suggestive grin on his full, sensual lips. I was outraged and simultaneously, in a peculiar way, aroused. I felt faint. My heart began to race and I felt the heat rush into my cheeks. Uncertain and  irritated by my own reaction, I turned my eyes away from him and devoted my attention to Sergio again, trying to ignore that dangerous man. For a while I spoke with Sergio and avoided looking at the irritating stranger again until I was aware of movement from his direction, which caused me to steal a glance across at him. I saw that he had stood up and he was disappearing into one of the waggons.

“Who’s that?” I asked Sergio. I could not stop my voice trembling and I hoped that Sergio would not notice this.

“My brother, Ivo. – He has the same temperament as our mother, and the pride and moodiness of our father. – A bad combination,“ answered Sergio, laughing.

*

When the camp was packed up I was guided to a space on Grandmother Aneta’s waggon. The journey was comfortable and unhurried. Barking excitedly, the dogs ran back and forth between the waggons and now and then a child cried somewhere or a horse snorted. I was aware that my unease gradually transformed into a pleasant peace that enveloped me warmly. Having grown up as an only child I was used to being alone. I was fascinated by the colourful hustle and bustle and the informal charm that lay in the air. No one called the noisy children to order, urging them to be silent, as my wet-nurse had constantly urged me. Wistfully I thought about how little freedom I had had in my childhood, and yet I was less strictly raised than my friends. I had been fully aware of how good my life was in comparison to that of children from poor families. In London I had seen children working in factories, often till late into the night, or trying to sell goods on the street all day. Yes, these travelling people were the only people who appeared to be genuinely free. I was a slave to the social demands of a decadent society, and the poor people were slaves to the fight for their daily bread.

My eyes wandered to Ivo who was riding ahead on a black stallion. Although I fought against it I felt magically attracted to him. I really liked Sergio but his surly brother attracted me in a way that I could not even explain myself. Perhaps it was purely his distant manner, that gave him an air of mystery, that made me curious. I had always liked investigating mysteries. But I also felt that this mystery was best left uninvestigated. This man was no gentleman and was clearly dangerous! It was undoubtedly safer to keep away from him and not play with fire.

Ivo turned round on his horse and his dark eyes fell upon me. I felt my cheeks begin to burn and redden. Heat rose within me and I hastily turned away.

Oh, yes, this man was a  blazing fire, a burning inferno, that was trying to devour me.

*

At about midday the group sought protection from the burning sun under a group of trees. Children were sent away to fetch firewood and a few men went to a nearby river to catch a few fish. I did not know what I should do as I was not given a task, so I sat down in the shade beneath an enormous oak tree and lay back against the rough trunk. The first men returned with their catch and took the fish out to hold them on sticks over the fire that had been set up in the middle of the camp. A few women were sitting together, happily chatting whilst they breast-fed their babies. Without any embarrassment whatsoever they had bared their full, heavy breasts with their dark areolae and the small children suckled blissfully. For me this was completely unaccustomed permissiveness, but here it seemed to be absolutely natural and no one was bothered by it. The men on the camp were not even looking at them.

A shadow fell upon me and I looked up. It was Sergio, smiling amiably down at me. He was holding two bowls in his hands from which rose an enticing aroma of grilled fish.

“Hungry?”

I simply nodded and smiled gratefully.

Sergio sat down next to me and handed me one of the bowls. Apart from the grilled fish with herbs there was also a piece of crispy round flat bread.

“Mmm … thank you.”

My stomach contracted with anticipation. Only now did I realise how hungry I had been. I put a piece of fish into my mouth and chewed blissfully.

“Mmm … This tastes delicious!”

“How are you feeling? Are you already feeling a little better?” asked Sergio solicitously, simultaneously touching me on the arm, as if accidentally.

“Yes, thank you! I’m already much better, even if my head is still hurting a little,” I answered.

I looked into Sergio’s warm eyes and saw tenderness in them. It warmed my heart. I liked him a lot and his attention was doing me good, even if he did not of course befit my rank in society. But a few harmless words could not hurt. I felt good in his company.

There had already been several suitors who had asked for my hand in marriage: boring old goats, as I called these fashionable dandies; boot licking nobles in search of a good match to pay off the debts that they had collected through gambling and in brothels, as well as from their tailors. Sergio knew nothing about my wealth. His interest was completely in me and was also not of the sinful nature that I had read in Ivo’s eyes. – No! Sergio was the direct opposite of his older brother. Sergio’s facial features were soft and open, which reflected his character, whilst Ivo was as hard and angular as his external appearance. And yet Ivo’s fiery looks had awakened a consuming desire within me, whilst I only felt a warm affection for Sergio. Whatever was wrong with me? Was I perhaps perverted? If not even Sergio was a suitable match, then this Ivo most certainly was not!

Suddenly Sergio took my hand and placed a tender kiss on my palm. His eyes had taken on a tender, enraptured expression.

“Liz. Oh sweet Liz. I have truly fallen in love,” he said hoarsely. “It can’t be a coincidence that it was I who found you.”

I blushed. Carefully I pulled my hand away and lowered my eyes, embarrassed. The last thing that I wanted was to hurt his feelings.

“But … but we don’t know one another at all,” I objected helplessly.

“I feel as if I have known you forever,” declared Sergio passionately. “You are my destiny – I can sense that very clearly. – And Grandmother Aneta said that!”

“You … you’re an attractive man and I think you’re very nice, but I hardly know you,” I said, evading the issue. I really did not want to hurt Sergio’s feelings but his declaration of love took me by complete surprise.

“Of course, you’re right. I did not, under any circumstances, wish to put too much pressure on you. I just had to tell you how I’m feeling. And I am certain that we are meant for one another. I will give you time to convince yourself of that, too.”

I immediately felt somewhat uncomfortable. It was one thing to flirt with a nice man and another thing to give a nice man false hopes.

“Unfortunately I have to tend to something,” said Sergio apologetically, and stood up.

I tried not to let my relief show and managed a forced smile, avoiding his eyes.

“See you later, my love.”

“Yes, see you later,” I answered, without looking directly at him.

When he had gone I turned again to my food but my appetite had now gone. I decided to stretch my legs a little and got up.

*

I had walked along the stream a little and watched the twinkling fishes gliding elegantly over the pebbles. I had always loved streams. As a small girl I had often played by the stream and my father once built me a little boat with a proper sail. I had played with it in the water for days until I inadvertently fell into the water. From then on my mother had forbidden me from playing by the stream. She said it was too dangerous. I remembered that I had been so sad at that time that I could barely eat, but my mother did not remove the ban.

I suddenly heard loud laughter nearby that pulled me from my thoughts. I stopped and listened. – There it was again and I could hear the murmuring voice of a man. I returned to the protection of the forest and its dense undergrowth and walked in the direction from which the voices and the laughter had come. After I had gone some distance I could make out a man and a woman ahead of me in the forest. Quietly I crept closer under the protection of the undergrowth until I could recognise the two people. It was Ivo and one of the beautiful young women from the camp. I felt a slight stabbing pain in my chest. My heart pounding, I watched what they were doing. It was only too clear why the two of them had met here, so far from the camp.

I watched, as if bewitched. What I saw there horrified me and yet simultaneously aroused something deep inside me. I hardly dared breathe. What if they were to hear me? The thought of being discovered by them made me blush. What was I doing here? I should turn quickly and go away from here rather than watch this sinful act, but I could not take my eyes off Ivo’s naked body, that was gleaming in the sun. As if spell-bound I stared at this muscular, tanned body; I had never before seen anything so strong – so beautiful. I felt a painful yearning for something that I could not describe in words. For an instant I allowed myself to wish that I were in the place of the beautiful woman, experiencing the animal passion of this devilishly beautiful man. Then I pushed these outrageous thoughts aside, but something remained within me – a vague yearning – an unfulfilled desire.

BOOK: The Untamable Rogue
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