had once arrested Ram and sent him to England to behanged. Heath looked at Dacre's arrogant offspring with loathing, but he knew there was no way he could knife Dacre in the middle of Carlisle Fair and take back his property. “Obviously, you don't know
my
name,” he retorted.
But you will before I'm done with you.
His gaze swept over Dacre with contempt, then he turned his back and walked away, with a devil-may-care swagger that was deliberately provoking.
It wasn't long before Heath spotted Raven Carleton near the Gypsy caravans. He smiled knowingly. There wasn't a female breathing who could resist having her fortune told. He tethered his horse and watched. He wasn't the least surprised to see Old Meg beckon the girl and take her inside the wagon.
The Gypsy sat gazing into her crystal ball while holding out her palm. When the girl placed a silver sixpence in her hand, Meg asked abruptly, “Are you a witch?”
“No, of course not,” Raven replied honestly.
“I see a Celtic witch, a magic woman,” Meg insisted.
“Ah, that would be my grandmother.” Raven smiled. “She works spells and dispenses wisdom along with herbal remedies.”
“You smile, when you should take her seriously. She has the ancient gifts and knowledge; she is a Diviner. You should ask
her
what you wish to know.”
Raven shook her head. “She would bend me to her will.”
Meg's shrewd gaze lingered on the girl before her. “She will try, as will others, but it will not be a woman, it will be a man who bends you to his will.”
“A man? Can you tell me about my marriage?”
“Every female your age wants to know about marriage,” Meg said dryly as she looked into the crystal ball. “You will marry well into great wealth and a title. But the path will be circuitous.”
Lady Raven Dacre!
The corners of Raven's mouth lifted in a smile. “I intend to lead him on a merry chase.”
“A chase indeed,” Meg replied, “but he will be the raptor; you the prey.”
“Oh, you speak of raptors and prey because I train hunting birds! You really do have the sight!”
Meg stared at her. “You too have the sight. You just do not use it. Ask your grandmother.”
“I shall! I intend to visit her soon.” On a sudden impulse, Raven said, “I want to buy a Gypsy dress, can you help me?”
Heath watched as Old Meg took Raven to another caravan. In less than five minutes they emerged with the dark beauty carrying a small paper parcel. When his grandmother entered her own wagon, Heath visited the other caravan. “What did the girl want?” he asked the young Gypsy woman.
“I sold her a Gypsy dress.” She opened her palm to show him the gold coin.
“You greedy jade!” Heath grinned. “A sovereign for one dress?”
She shrugged happily. “It was red. Red costs more!”
Heath was happy too, as he guessed that the Dacres must be hosting a masquerade ball at Carlisle Castle. All he needed was a costume and a mask! When he left the caravan, he searched for Raven. He saw her at a gaily colored booth, perusing its wares. Heath came up behind her silently. “You will meet a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who will steal your heart,” he murmured low.
Raven whirled around angrily. His mocking words told her he had seen her with the Gypsies. “Tall, dark, and ugly, you mean!”
He looked at the merchandise offered for sale and saw that they were silk stockings. “I suggest the black … very seductive.”
Raven turned her back upon him. “I will have a pair of the flesh-colored stockings, please.” She waited for his insolent comment, and when none came, she glanced up over her shoulder. With relief, she realized that he haddeparted, and turned back to the vendor. “I've changed my mind. I'll take a pair of black, please.”
As soon as dark descended, Heath made his way to Carlisle Castle. If his black stallion was grazing anywhere on the castle grounds, it would disappear tonight. He also reasoned that if Dacre was in possession of
my
name,” he retorted.
But you will before I'm done with you.
His gaze swept over Dacre with contempt, then he turned his back and walked away, with a devil-may-care swagger that was deliberately provoking.
It wasn't long before Heath spotted Raven Carleton near the Gypsy caravans. He smiled knowingly. There wasn't a female breathing who could resist having her fortune told. He tethered his horse and watched. He wasn't the least surprised to see Old Meg beckon the girl and take her inside the wagon.
The Gypsy sat gazing into her crystal ball while holding out her palm. When the girl placed a silver sixpence in her hand, Meg asked abruptly, “Are you a witch?”
“No, of course not,” Raven replied honestly.
“I see a Celtic witch, a magic woman,” Meg insisted.
“Ah, that would be my grandmother.” Raven smiled. “She works spells and dispenses wisdom along with herbal remedies.”
“You smile, when you should take her seriously. She has the ancient gifts and knowledge; she is a Diviner. You should ask
her
what you wish to know.”
Raven shook her head. “She would bend me to her will.”
Meg's shrewd gaze lingered on the girl before her. “She will try, as will others, but it will not be a woman, it will be a man who bends you to his will.”
“A man? Can you tell me about my marriage?”
“Every female your age wants to know about marriage,” Meg said dryly as she looked into the crystal ball. “You will marry well into great wealth and a title. But the path will be circuitous.”
Lady Raven Dacre!
The corners of Raven's mouth lifted in a smile. “I intend to lead him on a merry chase.”
“A chase indeed,” Meg replied, “but he will be the raptor; you the prey.”
“Oh, you speak of raptors and prey because I train hunting birds! You really do have the sight!”
Meg stared at her. “You too have the sight. You just do not use it. Ask your grandmother.”
“I shall! I intend to visit her soon.” On a sudden impulse, Raven said, “I want to buy a Gypsy dress, can you help me?”
Heath watched as Old Meg took Raven to another caravan. In less than five minutes they emerged with the dark beauty carrying a small paper parcel. When his grandmother entered her own wagon, Heath visited the other caravan. “What did the girl want?” he asked the young Gypsy woman.
“I sold her a Gypsy dress.” She opened her palm to show him the gold coin.
“You greedy jade!” Heath grinned. “A sovereign for one dress?”
She shrugged happily. “It was red. Red costs more!”
Heath was happy too, as he guessed that the Dacres must be hosting a masquerade ball at Carlisle Castle. All he needed was a costume and a mask! When he left the caravan, he searched for Raven. He saw her at a gaily colored booth, perusing its wares. Heath came up behind her silently. “You will meet a tall, dark, and handsome stranger who will steal your heart,” he murmured low.
Raven whirled around angrily. His mocking words told her he had seen her with the Gypsies. “Tall, dark, and ugly, you mean!”
He looked at the merchandise offered for sale and saw that they were silk stockings. “I suggest the black … very seductive.”
Raven turned her back upon him. “I will have a pair of the flesh-colored stockings, please.” She waited for his insolent comment, and when none came, she glanced up over her shoulder. With relief, she realized that he haddeparted, and turned back to the vendor. “I've changed my mind. I'll take a pair of black, please.”
As soon as dark descended, Heath made his way to Carlisle Castle. If his black stallion was grazing anywhere on the castle grounds, it would disappear tonight. He also reasoned that if Dacre was in possession of
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