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  Moments or maybe hours later, she heard the door to the wagon open and Lenny’s face peered down at her, tears welling in the old man’s eyes. “Morning, Miss,” he said, his voice cracked and dry.

  “Hello, Lenny.”

  A single tear ran down the weathered features. “I’m so sorry, Miss, had I known…” he broke down, sinking onto the floor with his face in his hands.

  She dragged herself up and knelt on the floor beside him, pulling his skinny frame into her own and squeezing him with all the pity she felt for him and for herself. They rocked back and forth and Lenny patted her back, rhythmically, like she was a newborn baby being rocked to sleep.

  Finally, he looked deep into her eyes. “How long had it been going on for, Miss?”

  She looked at the eyes of loved ones staring at her and braced herself. “As long as I can remember, a few years after I came here from England…I think.” And it must be all my fault.

  “Well he won’t do you no more harm, Miss, he’s dead. Dead as a door nail and that crazy teacher with him.” Every part of Lenny’s body shook, his face distorted by anger.

  Dane swore under his breath and when Claudia looked at him, his jaw clenched and his lips tightened. “Lenny, please, this is not the time. Claudia needs rest before the police interviews this afternoon.”

  “They’re dead?” Just like the rabbits. Breathing no more, all life gone from their bodies. I’m glad the gatekeeper’s dead. But quick, hot tears traced her cheeks. Mr Campbell’s mousy face, his lips set in a straight, hard line, flashed by her mind’s eye. Oh God, what’s happened? She couldn’t bear to ask the question. Not now.

  Poor Lenny couldn’t contain another round of sobs. Only Oriana remained quiet and calm.

  “Could I ask you both to leave us, please?” The gypsy woman said, her quiet authority radiating towards the two men. Surprisingly, they obeyed at once, both bowing their heads and leaving them alone in the dark, cool interior of the wagon.

  “You must tell me all of it, dear one. You must free your mind of these events so it can recover. Then you can move on. I promise we’ll help you, we know how to get you through this, sweetheart. Trust me.”

  Claudia felt bewitched by the husky voice and soothing words. A torrent of words flowed out of her, describing the fear-ridden nights, the confusion, the loneliness. Oriana cried when she cried, yelled when she yelled, fell silent when it was too much to remember.

  And then it was over. The story told, the barriers broken. Claudia’s tears no longer rushed down her face and her swollen, red eyes began to clear. The witch, Cosima, had come into the wagon, unannounced and unnoticed. Sweet smelling ointment was slathered onto her limbs, all over her body. The two gypsy women chanted in high tones, Snow-White and Rose-Red cuddled into her sides and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  When she woke, a pink hue coloured the air around her. Roses perfumed the air and she breathed deep of their sweetness before sitting up. She lay in a pile of blue silk and a canopy of vines sheltered her from the soft breeze. She turned to see the lake glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. Three familiar faces smiled down at her and she felt strong fingers gripping her arm.

  “So, my fairy queen has awoken from her slumber.” Brishan’s eyes glistened as they reflected the sun’s beams, but the green sank into dark smudges and his fingers clenched her arm too tight.

  She smiled back. “Brishan.” She sighed, and he nestled in beside her on the silk and pulled her into his arms. The warmth from his skin seeped into her bones and she rubbed her nose on his hard chest. Brishan seemed to tremble as he held her, almost crushing her with the strength of his hug.

  “You must eat, sweetheart,” Dane said, gesturing to Oriana, who was walking over with a platter piled high with food. The soft strains of a violin played on the air and Claudia wondered, briefly, if she’d been spirited away to fairyland.

  No, she could see Eamon and Selina, not far in the distance, plucking on their instruments, looking over at her and their son with sad smiles on their faces. The sound of children’s laughter came from the camp and she knew she was in the real world, just a better one than she’d ever known.

  She ate and drank sweet fruit juice from a fancy silver cup, sitting within the circle of Brishan’s arms, squirming each time his grip became too tight. Dane handed her delicious strawberries from the platter and Oriana smiled at her with something like relief.

  “Feel better?” The gypsy woman asked, raising a delicate eyebrow.

  “Amazingly.” Claudia felt a jolt of happiness when she realised she really did feel better. One hundred percent. “What kind of magic have you played on me?” She laughed, and easily squashed the questions threatening to spill from her mind to her mouth.

  “Nothing but the magic of family,” Dane said, lowering his eyes and reaching out to touch her hand.

  “I wish.” Claudia sighed.

  “It is one wish I can grant you,” Dane said.

  Claudia frowned at him.

  He looked at her then, his black eyes moist and narrow. “Claudia…I know your mother. She and I grew up together in England.”

  Claudia sank further into Brishan’s arms, a deep sense of foreboding racing up her spine.

  “Your mother and I were in love, for a brief moment in time. Our love produced a child. You, Claudia… You are that child.”

  Chapter Six

  Into the Flames

  She stood, too quickly, and stumbled over her own feet. Run, run Claudia. Her legs stretched out in front of her, carrying her up the hill where she’d first met Brishan. Carrying her far, far away into the valley, into the forest beyond, past tree trunks that sliced her arms and scratched her face, over piles of fallen twigs and, finally, onto a bed of leaves, crunching under foot, under her head, as she lay face down, in their soft, yielding midst.

  Her heart pounded, too loud for her ears to endure. It sounded like rushing water, threatening to engulf her, drown her, kill her in a pit of lies. Did this mean her whole life had been a lie? God, what does this mean? She swallowed hard, her throat raw and aching.

  One of the gypsies stood above her; she could hear his breath, but he didn’t speak, not for precious, silent moments. How odd, to suddenly long for silence when all she’d ever craved was release from its suffocating stillness.

  “Claudia.” When he spoke finally, his voice blended with the breeze, whispering through the leaves beneath her head. Like rain. Brishan’s voice.

  “Did you know?” Her voice was muffled by the leaves and barely audible, even to her own ears.

  She heard his deep, ragged sigh. “Yes.”

  Claudia found it hard to breathe. She could smell the earth beneath her, fresh and cool, and she heard insects rustling in the dry foliage. But still, she couldn’t breathe. The roar in her head was deafening.

  She sat straight up, flinging her head back, desperate for air to enter her lungs. Her hands clung to her chest, feeling the sharp rise and fall. Brishan was moving her, pushing her head between her legs, pressing her back, whispering unknown words into her ear.

  And then he was there. Her father. My father?

  Dane sat before her and lifted a hand to her face.

  “Don’t touch me,” Claudia rasped, her throat burning with the effort.

  “Claudia…”

  “No. You can’t. You can’t tell me this. I have a father. He’s short…and fat…and he doesn’t care if I live or die…but…” She gasped to catch her breath, clawing at the air and trying to make sense of her scrambled thoughts.

  “I know this is hard for you. But that’s why we didn’t tell you before. We needed you to know us first, to love us. I’ve always hoped…I thought you might have…sensed the truth.”

  Claudia met his gaze. She saw deep understanding in the brown eyes, understanding and tears set to fall from the dark lashes. And truth. She felt it through the panic and fear as it washed over her in peaceful waves. Her breathing slowed and a spark of hope ignited in the
dark recesses of her emotions.

  “I’m dreaming,” she whispered.

  A fleeting smile crossed Dane’s face. “No, sweet one, you’re not. This is real, as real as can be. You belong with us.”

  “Somehow, I feel like I’ve always known…at least, I’ve hoped and wished for it.” Claudia’s neck burned with familiar embarrassment and she fiddled with the leaves in her hair.

  “Claudia, please forgive me for not helping you sooner. If I’d known you were in trouble…” Dane lowered his head, hiding his eyes from her by focusing on his hands. “If we’d taught you how to reach us, you might have suffered less, but I didn’t think you were ready. I made a grave mistake.”

  Yes…your mistake. You could have…should have…told me. Claudia’s fists curled and she slammed them into the ground, over and over until she felt the skin on her knuckles split. Dane caught her wrists, forced her to stop and when she looked at him again, a single tear glistened on his cheek.

  Claudia shook her head, wrapping her arms around her own body. “It’s my fault. I should have trusted you; I should have trusted my own instincts.”

  “You did, my brave, sweet daughter, when you sent for us.” Dane frowned suddenly, catching her chin between his fingers so that it was impossible for her to avoid his gaze. “Tell me, please tell me, that you know you’re not responsible for what the gatekeeper did. Tell me, I want to hear you say it.”

  She heard Brishan’s sharp intake of breath as his hands paused on her back. She hadn’t realized he’d been stroking her, massaging the pain from her body.

  She thought about saying yes. Yes! It is my fault. She’d let it happen, her fear had paralysed her strength, immobilised her will. But deep, deep down in the depths of her soul, she knew this to be a lie; she knew because the words caught in her throat, she knew because the man sitting in front of her…my father…resonated with truth.

  “No. No, I don’t think it was my fault. Not now. But…I’ve doubted…in the past.” Her voice cracked and she lowered her head into Dane’s lap, feeling his tears drip on her cheek and blend with her own. His hand massaged her forehead, pressing between her eyebrows and over her temples.

  For a long moment, they were still as Claudia’s heart rate returned to normal and her crying stopped. Brishan began to hum, his low, melodic voice drifting with the wind.

  “Oh my gosh!” Claudia sat up straight, pushing Brishan’s hands from her back.

  “What?” The two men turned to her in surprise.

  “Does this mean,” she stared at Brishan, not wanting to speak the unthinkable. “We are related!”

  “Not by blood, sweetheart. Not even by law. Brishan is Oriana’s nephew by blood, and Oriana and I are not formally married. We don’t need marriage to prove our love. Our spirits connect us.” Claudia detected a faint hint of amusement in his tone. “Do you really think we’d let the two of you…well…let’s just say you can rest easy, sweet one.”

  Brishan was grinning madly, now sitting at her side in the leaves, obviously relishing this proof of her affection for him. She punched him in the arm, once again fighting the flush creeping up her cheeks. He pulled her back on to the leafy canopy, tickling her stomach until she screamed with laughter and begged him to stop.

  And the sun crept in to her heart, wiping away the doubt and holding her in its warm glow.

  There seemed no need for further explanations that day, as they walked back to the camp and her silken haven. She felt calm and…like she belonged. Gypsy blood ran through her veins. I’m a real gypsy…I’m a real gypsy. She started to skip as she repeated it to herself over and over again.

  Margaret and Lenny arrived at the camp, just as the sun was setting. Lenny’s arm rested casually over Margaret’s shoulders and Claudia struggled to contain an amused smile. Surely Margaret and Lenny couldn’t be…?

  “Miss Claudia, I come to offer my sincerest apologies.” Margaret’s eyes focused on the blue silk surrounding Claudia and her new found family. She kept saying the word over and over in her mind; family.

  Claudia felt gracious towards all human beings at that moment, even the grumpy housekeeper. She smiled. “Why?”

  “For my neglect of you, which led to such unforgivable events.” Her voice was strong and gruff as usual, but the house-keeper’s eyes watered and her hands, clasped together at her waist, trembled against each other.

  Claudia was silent for a moment, remembering the lack of affection and understanding. But it wasn’t Margaret’s fault. She felt Dane kneel behind her and place a strong hand on her shoulder. The feeling of utter safety and strength from that one touch sliced through her self-pity. She faced Margaret and stood, tall and proud.

  “It is not your fault, Margaret. It is only the gatekeeper’s and he’s gone.”

  “Oh, Miss…” Margaret said, before her voice cracked and disappeared. She turned and hid her face in Lenny’s neck, her body shaking with silent tears.

  “Well done. I’m proud of you,” Dane whispered in her ear.

  “I hate to spoil the day for you, Miss, what with all the…the happenings. But the police are back and they want to talk to you. And to you, Dane. Just statements and the like. Me and Margaret have already spoken with them.” Lenny fidgeted with his ear as he spoke, looking from Claudia to Dane and back. “Don’t you worry, Miss, they’re very nice, one lady and a man.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was revisit last night in her memory. But, she must. And Dane was here, right by her side. And he wasn’t going anywhere. She turned to Margaret. “Could you…could you tell me exactly what happened? I mean, before I speak with them?”

  Margaret took a deep breath, dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “Oh Claudia, I had an inkling that Alfred Campbell was half out of his wits, what with all that hunting. But, as the story goes, and I only have this from your parents mind you, way back when they first hired him; after all he never spoke to me about anything personal. Where was I? Oh yes, well, Alfred had a daughter about your age now, back in England, and she was murdered in their very own house, while he slept and…”

  Lenny, rocking back and forth on his legs, spoke before Margaret could finish. “The reason she’s telling you this, lass, is that your teacher shot that gatekeeper. Shot him dead, then turned the gun on himself.”

  “Shh. Let me finish, Lenny! He might have been crazy, but Claudia and I have lived with him for most of her life, and too much of my own. The poor man deserves some understanding, God rest his soul.” Margaret glared at Lenny until the gardener stood still in passive silence.

  “Most importantly, Claudia, I think he must have lived with awful guilt, not being able to save his own daughter and all. What the gatekeeper did to you,” she faltered, her hand gripping her necklace as she shook her head from side to side. “That lovely female officer at the house told us the gatekeeper had a police record. For years they’d looked for him, but he’d changed his name over and over, moved from country to country…well, anyway, I think seeing you…like that…with that monster, tipped poor Alfred Campbell over the edge.”

  Claudia looked down at her hands, a pang of guilt competing with the exhilaration she’d felt only moments ago. How unhappy Mr Campbell must have been. Unhappy and normal and filled with regrets…just like everyone else. She looked up, her gaze flicking automatically to her father.

  Dane searched her face, his own portraying love and understanding. “Lenny, Margaret, thanks for coming for us. We’ll be at the house soon. Right now, I’d like to watch the sunset with my daughter.” Dane put his arm around Claudia’s shoulders and led her towards the lake, just as the sun released its last rays over the velvety, silver water.

  In the days that followed, Lenny became the ‘man of the house’, hiring another gatekeeper, a gardener to replace himself and a kitchen maid to help Margaret. Claudia loved to watch him give instructions in his blunt, friendly way. His eyes sparkled in a way they had not before. Pride, thought Claudia; that’s what pride looks
like.

  He refused to stay in the main wing, but she heard his footsteps each night, sneaking up the stairs to join Margaret in her new room across the hall from her own. She started school again under the watchful eyes of Oriana and Dane, completing exams left by Mr Campbell. But their lessons, so enthusiastically and lovingly given, now filled her soul in a way Mr Campbell’s never did.

  The gypsies continued to wow audiences with their magical shows each night in neighbouring towns and Claudia joined them sometimes, playing the cymbals or helping the costumiers. There was so much life outside the chateau.

  After shows, the performers would come to the chateau, pulling boxes of old clothes and costumes from the attic: their impromptu performances enlivening the halls with screams of laughter.

  And time stood still each evening, when Brishan kissed her goodnight before going back to camp. For Claudia, life before was forgotten as autumn turned into winter and the lake at the bottom of the valley slowly began to freeze.

  “Claudia, I’ve received an email from your mother.” Margaret came into the parlour one afternoon, a hint of the old sharpness colouring her tone. Claudia looked up from the piano, her eyes falling on the marble fireplace, now alive with flames making patterns on the red velvet-covered walls.

  Her fingers stopped mid-note. Silence followed the house-keeper’s words and Dane, sitting beside her on the piano stool, placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

  “Only the angels in heaven would believe it, but she’s coming to visit. Within the week.” Margaret’s eyes flicked to Dane and the crease between her brows threatened to engulf her whole face.

  Claudia looked at her father.

  He frowned and rubbed his chin with his thumb and pointer finger. “How much does she know of our situation here, Margaret?”

  “Nothing. I hope I’ve not done wrong, but I felt it best that she wasn’t informed of recent happenings. I’ve only told her the gatekeeper was in trouble with the law, in order to explain why we needed to hire new staff.”