you. Who knows? One day our paths may cross again.”
“All I ask is that you make peace with my granddaughter. Your leaving will be difficult for her.”
Guilt made Julian look away. “Pietro, this marriage … how can I explain it? I am English. My marriage to Lara will not hold up in a court of law. Lara is …”
“… a Gypsy,” Pietro said with a hint of rebuke. “Far beneath you in rank.”
Julian sent him a sharp look. “I do not believe I ever mentioned having a title.”
“There was no need. It was obvious from the beginning that you are no common man. Nevertheless, we were pleased to have saved your life. Had not Lara claimed you as her husband, you would be dead now. You used her as a man uses a wife. Let your conscience be your guide where Lara is concerned.”
“Conscience has nothing to do with my decision to leave,” Julian argued. “Lara was well aware of my intentions from the beginning. I don’t want to seem coldhearted, for Lara is a woman worthy of any man, but I will never marry. Certain things occurred in my past, things that made me renounce marriage.”
Pietro searched his face. “You are a troubled man, Drago, haunted by events you cannot change. I will not chide you for using my granddaughter, for Ramona insisted that your coming to us was an act of God. If Lara’s future does not include you, then so be it. Go in peace, Drago. I believe we will meet again one day.”
“Take care of Lara,” Julian replied. “In the short time I have known her, she has become dear to me.”
He turned and walked away without waiting for Pietro’s response.
Pietro stared after him, a thoughtful expression on his face. He placed an arm around Ramona’s shoulders when she joined him a few moments later.
“Drago is leaving,” Ramona said. There was no question in her voice.
“Aye. Tomorrow.”
Ramona’s gaze found Lara as she moved about the camp. “ ’Tis not the end for them.”
“Drago says it is.”
“Pah! What does Drago know?” She clutched Pietro’s gnarled hand. “I fear for our granddaughter, husband.”
Pietro kissed her wrinkled cheek. “We must believe that her father will protect her, Ramona. Should fate bring Drago and Lara together in London, they will find their own way.”
Lara saw Drago talking to Pietro and knew intuitively what they discussed. Drago was leaving. She had known the day was coming and had thought herself prepared for it. But being prepared involved more than setting one’s mind to something. Her mind knew she and Drago were not meant to be together, but her heart refused to listen.
Drago had made love to her without involving his heart. She couldn’t force love where none existed. Drago enjoyed making love to her, she knew that, but she also knew that he was anxious to leave and get on with his life. She wouldn’t stop him, although her greatest fear was that his enemies would find him once he left the protection of the Gypsy caravan.
Lara hurried over to Drago the moment she saw him walk away from Pietro. “You’re leaving.” Her statement seemed to hit a raw note with him.
He looked harried, driven, as if he were being torn in two. “We need to talk, Lara. Come inside our wagon.”
Lara wasn’t quite ready to listen to Drago’s words of farewell. “Can it not wait?”
“No.” He held out his hand. “Come.”
She placed her hand in his and followed him to their wagon. He shut the door firmly behind them and led her to the bed. “Sit down.” Steeling her heart against his hurtful words, she perched on the edge of the bed.
He began to pace; back and forth, back and forth.
“Stop!” Lara shouted. “Just say what’s on your mind and get it over with.”
Drago stopped abruptly and knelt before her. He grasped her hands. “I haven’t told you anything about myself for the simple reason that I wanted to protect you and your people from my enemies. The less you know about me the safer you’ll be.”
“So you’ve
“All I ask is that you make peace with my granddaughter. Your leaving will be difficult for her.”
Guilt made Julian look away. “Pietro, this marriage … how can I explain it? I am English. My marriage to Lara will not hold up in a court of law. Lara is …”
“… a Gypsy,” Pietro said with a hint of rebuke. “Far beneath you in rank.”
Julian sent him a sharp look. “I do not believe I ever mentioned having a title.”
“There was no need. It was obvious from the beginning that you are no common man. Nevertheless, we were pleased to have saved your life. Had not Lara claimed you as her husband, you would be dead now. You used her as a man uses a wife. Let your conscience be your guide where Lara is concerned.”
“Conscience has nothing to do with my decision to leave,” Julian argued. “Lara was well aware of my intentions from the beginning. I don’t want to seem coldhearted, for Lara is a woman worthy of any man, but I will never marry. Certain things occurred in my past, things that made me renounce marriage.”
Pietro searched his face. “You are a troubled man, Drago, haunted by events you cannot change. I will not chide you for using my granddaughter, for Ramona insisted that your coming to us was an act of God. If Lara’s future does not include you, then so be it. Go in peace, Drago. I believe we will meet again one day.”
“Take care of Lara,” Julian replied. “In the short time I have known her, she has become dear to me.”
He turned and walked away without waiting for Pietro’s response.
Pietro stared after him, a thoughtful expression on his face. He placed an arm around Ramona’s shoulders when she joined him a few moments later.
“Drago is leaving,” Ramona said. There was no question in her voice.
“Aye. Tomorrow.”
Ramona’s gaze found Lara as she moved about the camp. “ ’Tis not the end for them.”
“Drago says it is.”
“Pah! What does Drago know?” She clutched Pietro’s gnarled hand. “I fear for our granddaughter, husband.”
Pietro kissed her wrinkled cheek. “We must believe that her father will protect her, Ramona. Should fate bring Drago and Lara together in London, they will find their own way.”
Lara saw Drago talking to Pietro and knew intuitively what they discussed. Drago was leaving. She had known the day was coming and had thought herself prepared for it. But being prepared involved more than setting one’s mind to something. Her mind knew she and Drago were not meant to be together, but her heart refused to listen.
Drago had made love to her without involving his heart. She couldn’t force love where none existed. Drago enjoyed making love to her, she knew that, but she also knew that he was anxious to leave and get on with his life. She wouldn’t stop him, although her greatest fear was that his enemies would find him once he left the protection of the Gypsy caravan.
Lara hurried over to Drago the moment she saw him walk away from Pietro. “You’re leaving.” Her statement seemed to hit a raw note with him.
He looked harried, driven, as if he were being torn in two. “We need to talk, Lara. Come inside our wagon.”
Lara wasn’t quite ready to listen to Drago’s words of farewell. “Can it not wait?”
“No.” He held out his hand. “Come.”
She placed her hand in his and followed him to their wagon. He shut the door firmly behind them and led her to the bed. “Sit down.” Steeling her heart against his hurtful words, she perched on the edge of the bed.
He began to pace; back and forth, back and forth.
“Stop!” Lara shouted. “Just say what’s on your mind and get it over with.”
Drago stopped abruptly and knelt before her. He grasped her hands. “I haven’t told you anything about myself for the simple reason that I wanted to protect you and your people from my enemies. The less you know about me the safer you’ll be.”
“So you’ve
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