opinion, abdicating his current responsibilities.
Not that he was interested in her opinion.
If only his lack of interest might extend to her activities.
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward her grandmother’s caravan. There was no sense in postponing the confrontation she knew would occur. She had deliberately disobeyed Stephano’s orders, and he would demand an explanation. And she had none, other than the one he’d already rejected.
As she approached Magda’s caravan, eyes on the ground, her half-brother jumped down from it and came toward her. She saw that he had been in camp long enough to change out of his gadje attire and back into the traditional garb of their people.
The small gold earring he wore when in camp glinted in the sun. The colourful vest, long-sleeved shirt and loose trousers were exactly the same as those worn by the other men, but Stephano’s good looks and air of confidence would make him stand out anywhere.
Even among the English Ton he professed to despise, she thought with a small sense of pride.
Today, nothing about his appearance suggested his mixed heritage. And when he was with the Rom, that was exactly the way Stephano wanted it.
When he reached her, there was no kiss of greeting, as there usually was between them. Apparently her half-brother had already discovered that the Englishman was still here.
The first words out of his mouth confirmed that impression.’I told you to get rid of him.’
‘And I told you he’ll leave as soon as he’s well enough.’
‘He’s well enough now.’
Without slowing, Stephano strode past her and toward her caravan, so that Nadya was forced to run to catch up with him. She grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.
‘Listen to me.’ This time she used both hands to grasp his wrist, holding tightly enough that he would have had to use force to free himself. She was relieved when he turned toward her instead.
Although his face was closed, Nadya tried once more to argue her case. ‘The man saved Angel’s life. Surely that means something to you, if for no other reason than because it means so much to me.’
The hard black eyes softened almost imperceptibly. If she had not known him so well, however, she might not have been able to tell her argument had had any impact. The stern lines of Stephano’s face hadn’t altered.
Which shouldn’t be surprising, she conceded, considering he’d had a lifetime of practice in not revealing what he felt.
‘Magda says he’s well enough to leave,’ her brother said.
‘The next time you suffer an injury, shall I let Magda decide your treatment?’
His lips tightened, but he didn’t dispute her point. She was the drabarni. Questions about healing were her domain, not that of their grandmother.
‘But he is conscious?’ Stephano demanded.
‘Yes.’
‘So who is he?’
‘His name is Rhys Morgan. He’s an ex-soldier, recently returned from Spain.’ She couldn’t see how revealing what his service had cost the Englishman could advance her cause. Stephano had grown so hard that he might instead take those wounds as a sign of weakness.
‘And?’
‘That’s all I know. That and the fact he was travelling to his godfather’s house when he rescued Angel.’
As she mentioned Rhys’s godfather, she realized that her half-brother would be the ideal person to deliver his message. Not only would he be returning to London shortly, he also knew the ways of the gadje and, because of that, would be less likely to raise concerns within Rhys’s family.
‘He asked me to find someone to deliver a note to him.’ She removed the folded paper Rhys had given her from her pocket and held it out to him.
‘To his godfather? Did he mention a name?’
‘Keddinton, I believe.’
‘Keddinton? Are you sure?’
The name had meant nothing to Nadya, but clearly it did to her half-brother. He unfolded the paper to read what Rhys had written, the gesture revealing the silver bracelet her father had made for him.
‘Do you know him?’
Stephano laughed. ‘I don’t travel in the elevatedcircles Lord Keddinton occupies. Not any more.’The bitterness of the last was apparent.
‘Then.?’
‘I know of him,’ he clarified, closing Rhys’s note. ‘So would you if you weren’t so concerned with your “daughter” and your herbs.’
‘A concern for which you’ve had reason to be grateful in the past. And may again.’ Stephano suffered debilitating headaches, which with her herbs she had been able to mitigate to some small extent. ‘Who is this Keddinton?’
‘Someone influential in the capital. More influential than the title he holds would indicate. Your gaujo has powerful connections, jel’enedra. Which makes me wonder why he’s content to recuperate in a cramped vardo under the care of a Gypsy healer. I wonder if that could that have anything to do with you, my dear?’
That very English appellation jarred, especially coming so closely on the heels of his usual name for her. Almost from the moment her father had brought Stephano back to them, he had referred to her as jel’enedra. His little sister.
‘I imagine this is not so different from what he’s accustomed to. I told you: he’s a soldier.’
‘Whose godfather is one of the most powerful men in England.’
‘What can that possibly matter to you?’ She was beginning to fear that her half-brother was considering how he might benefit from Rhys’s connections.
‘I’m not sure it does,’ Stephano said with a shrug. ‘It’s simply something I find interesting. And potentially useful.’
‘How could that possibly—’
‘I said potentially useful, jel’enedra. Do you think it would come amiss if I inform Lord Keddinton of your kind services to his godson?’ He held up the note for emphasis before he pushed it into the pocket of his vest.’Maybe he’ll even see fit to reward you for them.’
‘I don’t consider caring for the man who saved my daughter’s life deserving of a reward.’
‘Then it’s just as well you’re content with your lot. Those who are never use the tools fate hands them to achieve a better one.
‘As you have done, I suppose.’
‘A lesson I learned early. And too well. But then I had sterner masters than you. You should be grateful for that.’
‘You
