The Romany Heiress (2 page)

Finally, thanks to my supportive P.E.O. chapter which
has encouraged me every step of the way and always
believed I would do this. I love all of you.

In the alleyway behind the lavishly lit Mayfair mansion, Irina Dupeski tossed her dark curls and slipped out
of the cheap, black cloak hiding the bright colors of her
multihued skirt. She fluffed the full skirt and pinched
her cheeks for effect. “How do I look?” She gave her
companion a teasing smile and twirled once.

The muscular youth gave an adolescent stammer.
“Irina, you look lovelier than ever.” Then he puffed up
his chest and offered in his best manly tone, “I should
go with you. One can never tell what these lordlings
might be like. You know as well as I do how the Rom are
treated simply because we live outside of society. I do not want any of them to think you deserve less than a
lady”

“I thank you for your worry, Jacopo, but it is not
necessary. I have done performances like this for the
ton before. I shall be safe. Remember, I will just be on
the other side of the garden wall”

Jacopo cast a glance at the high bricked wall and grimaced. “I suppose I could climb it if it came to that”

Irina laughed. “I suppose you could but you could
also use the gate.” She reached up to test the latch of
the gate, and it opened as planned. Giles, the man who
had hired her, said he would arrange for it to be so.
Jacopo, the darling, was still concerned. She reached a
hand out to soothe the worry from his face. “This is
nothing. I am telling fortunes for this Giles and a few of
his friends. I won’t be longer than a half hour. What
could go wrong?”

Before he could answer, Irina slipped through the
iron gate and into the town garden of the Denbigh’s
home. As expected, a heavily attended masquerade was
well underway, evidenced by the noise and light
spilling from the ballroom. She wished some of that
light extended to the back of the garden. She could
hardly see a foot in front of her. She didn’t want to risk
tripping over an errant root or snagging her skirts on an
unseen bramble. She made her way forward, cautious
and shivering. Without the protection of her cloak,
there was no mistaking the bitter weather of winter, but
she’d forgone the extra warmth for the sake of theatrics.
She knew precisely the appeal she held for men when she was dressed in the full regalia of a gypsy fortune
teller.

She needed every last crown and guinea she could
wrest from this night’s performance to add to her hidden stash in the floor of the wagon. The time was coming when she would leave the caravan and set out to
claim her destiny. She might have lived all of her life to
date as Rom but she would not die Rom. She would
claim her rightful heritage and live the rest of her life as
a lady, fulfilling the bedtime story that had been told to
her since she was old enough to remember.

At last, after careful steps, Irina gained the verandah
where Giles had asked her to meet his party of friends.
There was no one present yet, but she’d planned on being deliberately early in order to become familiar with
the setting. The area was wide, open, and cold. All the
better for her safety, and all the better for getting the job
done quickly. No doubt they would be as cold as she and
would want to return to the warm crush of the ballroom.

Voices garnered her attention as the French doors
leading from the ballroom flew open. She recognized
the leader. Giles led the way, giving instructions over
his shoulder. He caught sight of her and motioned her
into the shadows with a quick wink.

Irina blended into the darkness and watched. She had
forgotten how handsome Giles was with his deep-gold
hair reminiscent of antiqued gold and his horseman’s
physique. As someone who’d spent her life traveling
from one horse fair to another, she knew the difference
instantly between a man who had pretensions of great horsemanship and a man who was born to the saddle.
Giles was of the latter. From the width of his broad
shoulders to the muscles of his thighs, he evinced superior skill with horses.

And with people, for that matter. He had never called
himself by a title or a last name during their brief dealings, but she knew he was more than a mere mister by
the clothes he wore and the manners he used. He didn’t
need to flaunt a title for her to know he was far above
her in social standing, although he had treated her with
gracious courtesy. She could not forget he was a member of high society and she was still Rom, at least for
now, until she could make the fairy tale come true.

Irina smiled to herself in the shadows. She wouldn’t
always be Rom. Perhaps when she claimed her true inheritance, Giles might look her way. The fantasy of
dancing with Giles warmed her chilled skin. She would
wear a fine dress of aquamarine silk done in the latest
fashion, with slippers and gloves to match. Around her
neck would be a strand of freshwater pearls with mates
at her ears. Perhaps she’d even have a strand wound
through her upswept hair. Irina sighed, letting her
imagination run rampant.

Then, all at once, it was show time. Giles gestured
toward her with a gallant sweep of his extravagant,
satin-lined cloak. Irina pushed her daydream to the
back of her mind and stepped forward. She needed the
coin from this evening if her dream was to become anything more. She curtsied and put on her best fabrication
of a Russian accent, favoring Giles with a coy smile.

“These are your friends, milord?” She dimpled. “Ah,
who shall be first?” she asked, dazzling each of the four
assembled men with a practiced look and ignoring the
one woman. While she tantalized, she studied them; the
young blond lounging on the cold stone steps as if it
were summer looked game enough and full of adventure. His fortune would be easy to tell; the lanky, blackhaired man with obsidian eyes was easy enough to read
as well. He was the quiet, bookish type, who hid his true
ambitions; the other man present would not be so simple. He was sinfully handsome, and he wore his fine
looks with an aura that suggested he knew just how a
woman would be affected by one brooding glance. But
he was brooding and not amused by the prospect of having his fortune read. She would save him for last, along
with the lovely but tense woman who sat near him.

Crowd assessed, Irina began with the adventurous
blond, caressing his palm and looking into his dancing
green eyes. With each of them, she applied her trade
ruthlessly. With the blond on the steps, she laughed and
played the coy flirt, matching his remarks to her wit.
With the quiet man she coaxed and rewarded, treating
him as if he were the only man on the verandah. With
the difficult one, she cajoled with all her talent until he
reluctantly gave up his palm. With the woman she gave
her truth, although it was obvious the woman was less
than glad for it.

In the end, Irina knew she had done her job well. The
group was laughing and satisfied with her efforts as
they traded fortunes with one another. For a moment when they chuckled over their futures and included her
in their teasing repartee, she felt like one of them, as if
she belonged in just such a circle. But it was a moment
too short-lived. It was with dismay that she let Giles
lead her back into the shadows, discreetly escorting her
down the verandah steps before anyone would notice
she was gone.

What had she expected? That they invite her to join
them? That one of the elegant gentlemen ask her dance
or to go into supper with him? Of course not. She knew
in their minds she was the hired help. No amount of
talent or flirting would change that. At the end of the
night, she would still be Rom.

Irina was keenly aware of Giles’s hand at her back,
guiding her effortlessly through the darkness. The stars
twinkled overhead in the freezing night sky and for the
brief walk Irina indulged herself, pretending this was
her beau strolling her about a garden in full bloom at a
spring fete. They might be off to find a secret place to
steal a kiss. The gate loomed all too soon, and Giles
was pressing a soft leather purse in her hand.

“Here’s the payment we agreed upon. Thank you, Miss
Dupeski. My friends enjoyed themselves immensely.”

Miss Dupeski? Oh, this one had manners aplenty,
treating her so politely. Irina cast him a glance through
downcast eyes. She had read his fortune with the others
on the steps, but she might entice him further. “My
work is not yet done. Perhaps you would like a more
extensive reading of your palm? Your true fortune remains to be told” She swept the area with a quick glance, spying a low stone bench half hidden by overgrown shrubs. “Allow me.”

She led him to the bench and sank down on it, letting
her skirts float in a rainbow as she settled, not that he
could see the vibrant colors in the darkness of the garden. A smile quirked at his lips, and Irina knew he was
mildly amused by her boldness, and maybe more.

She set to work, stroking the lines of his palm and
murmuring to herself over what she saw.

“So, what else do you see?” he asked impatiently
when she said nothing directly to him.

Irina looked up from the hand with carefully schooled
features. This was the response she had been waiting
for with her mutterings. It was a tried-and-true tactic
for piquing the curiosity of even the most reluctant. He
had been somewhat amused when she’d begun but she
wanted him fully interested. “Somewhat amused” held
no advantages for her. “Fully interested”, well that held
any number of opportunities.

“I see a man who has direction, who knows what he is
about. You have plans and the determination to see them
through,” Irina began, feeling safe with her assumption.
What man didn’t have plans? Not all men were determined but they thought they were, and no man liked to
admit he wasn’t. “You will face great challenges, but you
will overcome them by maintaining your standards.”

“That’s it? What about love?” He asked when Irina
relinquished his hand. “Everyone else’s fortune dealt in
romance. It seems wrong that mine would be devoid of
it.” He chuckled a little at his joke.

She smiled a little at that. Highborn or low, they were
all the same in the end. She tilted her head in a practiced, pretty move meant to tease. “So it’s love you want
to know about?” She took his hand back into her own,
this time studying the light calluses where his hand
must curve about the reins in spite of wearing gloves.
She traced the line running from his fourth finger and
noticed he shivered slightly at the delicate contact.
What a delightful piece of whimsy it was to think this
gorgeous man was as affected by her as she was by him.

“This is your love line. Yours is long, which indicates
a lifelong passion awaits you, although you will discover it when you least expect it.” Safe enough. He
could interpret that any way he liked.

Giles sighed. “I wish I could believe that”

The quiet of the night closed around them. In the
midst of his confession, Irina forgot she was cold, forgot their differences in station. “Why do you say that?
Surely a man of your great appeal will find a woman.”
She breathed, not daring to break the spell that wove
about them.

“I have no doubt I will find a woman. I do doubt I
will find one that sparks a great passion in me. My father certainly didn’t. Passionate liaisons don’t run in
our blood” He gave a rueful look that said he was half
serious, half mocking in his admission.

Silence stretched between them as they held one another’s gaze. Irina’s heart pounded with expectation.
He was going to kiss her. She could see the idea of the action forming in his striking blue eyes. At the last moment he rose from the bench, brushed at his evening
pants, and offered her his arm. “I fear I’ve kept you
overlong, Miss Dupeski. I hope someone is waiting at
the gate to see you home. If not, I’ll arrange..

Irina interrupted swiftly, smarting from the disappointment there would be no kiss. “There is no need.
My friend, Jacopo, is there. I will be safe”