local tavern drinking a flagon of ale and flirting mercilessly with Gilda, the alewife. Her ample breasts spilled out over the edge of her chemise and he was eyeing them hungrily.
“Gilda, my sweet cherie. And I don’t use the term without real meaning”, he added with a saucy wink, remembering the sweet taste of the soft place between her thighs.
“Marco, you’re the devil himself. But I might be tempted to sin with ye”, she said as she leaned over further so he could get a better view.
“Meet me later behind the shed and I will make you quite certain that I am no devil, but an angel sent to take you to the gates of Heaven itself. And you know I can”, he added twisting his moustache for emphasis.
She got his drift. Perfectly. She remembered many a lazy afternoon with her skirts hiked up and the sweet scratchiness of that substantial moustache as he worked his magic. Yes. She would indeed meet him. She would do anything for Marco. Trapped in a loveless marriage since the age of fifteen to the local tavern owner, she had worked in this place morning to evening every day since.
Marco was a Gypsy, yes, but that was no matter to her. She was naught but a simple provincial working in her husband’s tavern. She owned nothing. She would never own anything and she was at the disposal of her lord and considered naught but chattel. And he treated her as such.
She had never known any pleasure in her marriage bed, only pain and longing. Marco…handsome Marco, with his laughing eyes and his love of life brought a breath of fresh air to her dreary existence. And she loved him. In a way, she thought he loved her too. But at this point, she really didn’t care. She liked his attentions. And she certainly liked what he did to her when she was lying naked in his arms.
“Gilda, love,” Marco said. “Being as you know much of what goes on around here I have a few questions to ask of you. Has anyone come in here lately; I mean the nobles, pompous bastards that they are? I mean has there been any of them in here seeking out a missing woman. A daughter? A niece? A wife?”
“No. Not that I know of. Why, love?” she asked brushing a stray lock of hair back from his forehead.
“Hmmmm.” He paused. “Well, let’s just say that we know of a lady who is seeking to find her family. She is unable to remember from whence she came, but our leader, Nico…you remember him I’m sure, all the ladies do…is hoping to return her to her people. For a fair price of course.”
“I have heard nothing, Marco. Perchance some of the men traveling through here would. Many soldiers pass this way all the time. I’m sure I could find out for you…and in return…” she giggled and winked.
“Yes, mon fleur. In return you shall know heaven, many times over!”
He laughed heartily and stole a quick kiss trailing his tongue down her neck to the tops of her luscious breasts. He tapped a finger to the end of her nose.
“But, you must promise not to mention this to anyone. You must find out what you can and then tell me when I return. And that I shall!”
“I will find out what I am able. You will meet me soon?”
“Rest assured. I will be waiting tonight for you, in the shed. Meet me there as soon as you lock the doors this eve.”
He popped a quick kiss to her forehead and slipped from his seat and headed out the door.
Chapter Ten
Back at the gypsy camp Sarah sat inside the wagon. She woke up late in the morning to find herself alone.
She peeked out of the canvas and saw Dominic sitting before a fire. She jumped over the side of the wagon and headed over to where he sat. She wouldn’t mind a bath…or a bathroom come to think of it right about now. And the thought of spending any more time holed up in the wretched, creaky contraption made her crazy.
Dominic was making her even crazier. He had really opened up to her last night and she had decided that he was not the smelly, swaggering, jerk she had first supposed him to
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