Destiny's End

Chapter 4: Warrick

Chapter 4: Warrick

The evening before Mother and I were scheduled to leave for Liverpool, to set sail from there to Canada, I slipped out, saddled Monte, and rode to Greenbriers to meet Thomas one last time.

“Let’s say goodbye to Meggie.” He had another bouquet of flowers in his arms. She’d loved them the first time we’d come to visit her, and he would often bring her whatever flower was in bloom. She always wore the pendant I’d given her, however, and I couldn’t help but be smugly pleased over that.

“I don’t have anything as personal to give her,” I grumbled, although in truth I did have something. Father had given me a pouch containing some coins. You’re a gentleman, he’d said. As such you’ll treat your mistress well.

I’d never considered it that way before, but yes, I supposed I did have a mistress. I refused to think what that made Thomas to me.

But all I wanted this last evening we’d be together was to spend it alone with him.

“That’s all right, my prickly Thorn. We’ll tell her the flowers are from both of us.” He handed the flowers up to me.

“Oh, very well.” I held the bouquet until he mounted Galahad, and then returned them to him, and we rode to the milkmaid’s cottage.

Meggie was tidying her little home and came to the door wearing old clothes that were dusty and worn.

“Mr Warrick. Mr Thomas. I weren’t expecting you this night, what with you both having to leave.”

Of course she’d know. All the servants and tenants as well as the entire populace of Upper and Lower Flossmere knew the sons of the manor houses would soon be off, me to further my education and Thomas to become a leader of men.

“We’ve come to bid you goodbye and thank you for treating us so kindly,” Thomas said, offering her the flowers. “These are from both of us.”

Her eyes flooded with tears. “Thankee, Mr Thomas. You two have been the kindest…” She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a corner of her apron. “God bless you, and I’ll never forget you.”

“Don’t talk as if we’ll never be back.”

“No. Sorry, sir.”

Thomas kissed her cheek. “We’ll leave you to finish your tasks.”

“Yes, sir. Godspeed.”

“Uh…wait for me by the horses, please?” I asked Thomas.

He looked curious but returned to where our horses were tied.

“We—Mr Thomas and I—want you to have this, because as Mr Thomas said, you’ve been very kind to us.” I handed Meggie the small purse. “This should be enough to tide you over until you find a man who pleases you.” I was afraid she’d resent being treated like a w***e, but she threw her arms around me and kissed my cheek.

“Thankee. You didn’t have to—you’ve both given me a lot of pleasure, but thankee. And thankee again for this, as well.” She tugged the pendant I’d given her that first night from beneath the bodice of her dress. The white stones seemed to be glowing, and I had the urge to snatch it back from her.

I folded my arms behind my back. A gift once given should never be asked to be returned. “You’re welcome.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I said, “Goodbye,” and hurried down the path to where Thomas was waiting, already up on his horse. “Let’s get away from here.”

“All right. I have something else in mind.”

I swung up into the saddle. “Us spending the rest of the night making love?” I forced a smile and clapped my heels to Monte’s side. If we didn’t get away soon, I was certain I’d go back for that pendant.

“Eventually,” he said. “Follow me.”

He led the way back to Greenbriers, to a clearing where his father had given a vista of gypsy caravans permission to camp. That surprised me, since they usually camped on Thorny Walk land.

I swung off Monte’s back and wrapped his reins around a low-hanging branch. Thomas did the same with his Galahad.

“Let’s go to the lake,” I said. “I want to make love to you.”

Thomas laughed and backed out of my reach. “I want to have my fortune told, first. Please?” he wheedled. “Don’t you want to know what the future holds for us?”

“I already know what it holds,” I told him grimly. “You’re going to be here, in England, and I’ll be three thousand miles away.”

“You’ll be returning, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“All right then. This way we’ll know when. You know I’m not that fond of surprises.” He leaned close and kissed me. “Please, Thorn?” he begged. “Just a quick stop at the fortune-teller’s tent, and then you can take me away, and make me beg for you to do anything you like.”

“Anything?” Having one’s palm read was utter rot, but…while the thought of Thomas wrapping those lush lips of his around my throbbing c**k took my breath away, it was the image of his bum turning a bright red beneath my palm that brought me erect in seconds flat.

He nodded—would he have agreed so readily if he knew I wanted to spank him mercilessly?—and laughed and pulled me after him toward the camp.

A number of villagers from Upper Flossmere were already there, as well as tenants of both Thorny Walk and Greenbriers, and we had to wait to see the gypsy, Syeira. We strolled around the camp, past the young women who danced as they shook their tambourines, and the young men who tried to interest the unwary in an unsound horse or donkey.

I paid an old crone a penny for a dish of stew that I shared with my beloved friend. “If we were alone, I’d feed this to you with my fingers,” I whispered to him, delighting in the flush I could see in the firelight.

His lips parted. “Tell me what you would do.”

Purposely I kept my voice low, so he would have to lean close to hear me. “You see this piece of bread? I’d dunk it in the stew and then rub it over your lips. When you opened your mouth to take a nibble, I’d slip my fingers in instead, and make you suck the sauce off them.”

He moaned. One thing I’d learned over the course of the past months was how very vocal he could be. Oftentimes, I’d have to cover his mouth with my own, swallowing his shouts.

“Must we wait for the old woman? I want to f**k you so badly.”

“Soon, I promise.” He danced away from me. “See, it’s our turn now.” He took the dish and returned it to the gypsy, then seized my hand and hurried into the tent, dragging me after him. “Good evening, Grandmother,” he greeted her politely. “It’s very nice to see you again.”

“And you also.” This band of gypsies had been coming to our corner of Kent to summer for years, and of course Thomas would know them and they’d know him.

I, on the other hand had been forbidden to visit the clearing.

“You have been well?” She examined him in the fitful light of the candles and smiled, a snaggle-toothed grin that revealed a few gaps. “Ah, yes I think you have been more than well. There is an aura about you.”

He blushed and his gaze sought mine as if he couldn’t help himself. “This is my friend, Mr Warrick Synclaire.”

She studied me for a moment, then gestured for Thomas to seat himself before her. “I think he is more than a friend.” Her voice was so low I almost couldn’t distinguish her words, and for a moment I worried, but then I knew I didn’t need to, since both Thomas and I would be leaving soon. “Tell me, young sir. What is your desire?”

He promptly held his palm out to her. “What does my future hold, Grandmother?”

I stood at Thomas’s shoulder and watched as Syeira took his hand in her work-worn grip and studied it intently. She stroked her fingertips over the plump mound at the base of his thumb and across the depression in the centre of his palm. She shivered. “Do you wish for the truth?”

He looked affronted. “Of course I want the truth. I’m a man. I can deal with whatever comes my way.”

The gypsy smiled sadly and looked at his palm again. “Proud,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Very well, young sir. Your path will not be easy. There will be loss along the way—great loss. But you are brave and will bring much honour to the name you bear.” She met his gaze. “What more do you wish to know?”

“Love, Grandmother. Will my love return to me?” He glanced at me through his lashes.

“The one you love will come to you through danger, across flood and fire—” She gasped and her hand tightened convulsively on Thomas’s. Her eyes searched his deeply. “Because of the one who will love you, you will be under the protection of a very ancient power.” She looked at him with something akin to awe.

I thrust my palm in front of her. “Read my future, old woman.” Already I was trying to determine how I could make her words to Thomas refer to me. I was going across the ocean, surely that could signify as a flood. Danger and fire, though…

She let my friend withdraw his hand, and then she took mine. She shivered again and reached up to move aside the collar of my shirt. I thought she lost all colour in her cheeks, but I dismissed it as fancy since I was unable to come up with a logical explanation for that. She released my collar and turned to Thomas, all the while maintaining her hold on my left hand with her other hand. “Young sir, be so kind as to bring me another candle,” she directed him. He ducked out of the tent, and I slid into his seat. The gypsy leaned forward, speaking urgently. The words that spilled from her mouth were indecipherable. They seemed to roll over me, reverberating in my skull, but I couldn’t make sense of a single one of them.

“Speak English, Syeira,” I demanded petulantly. “What are you telling me?”

And then abruptly I could understand her again. “The young sir is not for you, my son. Your future paths will cross, but there will be only sorrow and death at the end of them if you do not let him be.”

I was stunned. This was not the type of reading a gypsy normally gave, and I struggled to free my hand. “You must be mad, old woman!”

Thomas returned just then with a candle stuck in a tin cup. “Here you are, Grandmother.”

“Thank you, young sir.” She held my gaze over the flickering light. “You will recall my words, and return to this place, when the time has ripened. Until then, go with God, my son. Nicolae,” she called. A young gypsy male thrust aside the opening of the tent. He wasn’t as tall as I, but he was brawny, and I backed away from him. “Show these gentlemen from the camp.”

She refused to accept our coins. Thomas bowed politely over her hand, but I could see he was concerned by her action.

The gypsy, Nicolae, laid his hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off sharply, disturbed by the sensation of his touch. His dark eyes bored into mine, and it was as if something passed between us.

“Come,” he said in a guttural tone, and he led us to the edge of the camp.

It had grown late. The fires had been banked, and the villagers and tenants had all returned home.

“Thank you for visiting us,” the gypsy murmured. He started to turn away, but Thomas seized his arm.

“Wait. Take this, with thanks for the fortune the grandmother foretold.”

He took the coins from Thomas, then stared into my eyes. His lips were parted in a frightening smile, revealing sharp teeth, and I wanted to whimper. It was a cruel smile, such as I’d never before seen directed at me.

“Thank you, sir.” His words were respectful, but his glance mocked me. He vanished into the darkness.

I swallowed. “I want to make love to you one last time,” I told Thomas in a low, urgent voice. I’d be leaving in the morning, and who knew how many years would pass before we saw one other again? Father certainly wouldn’t care whether he saw me or not. I mounted my horse, waited for Thomas to swing up onto Galahad, and then touched my heels to Monte’s sides. He broke into a canter; Galahad matched his stride.

And our horses took us away from that spot.