The gypsy’s eyes grew sad once more. “Her mother will not long survive her birth. But the lady will go from this plain much more easily, knowing she leaves her child in your capable hands.”
Syeira rose and ushered us from her caravan. I helped her down, and she cradled my cheeks between her palms. “Go with God, young sir, and think kindly of the Rom. We will not be seen here for a very long time.” She turned to Roddy. “And you.” He stepped into her embrace, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You will do very well, I think.”
We hurried to the MG, looking back to wave farewell, but she was already turning away, calling her people to her.
“I think it might be best to talk to Warrick,” I said.
Roddy was silent, and I turned to stare at him.
“Do you object?”
His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“Very well.” That was all he said, but I knew that if the friend of my childhood made a single wrong move, my lover would take great pleasure in hurting him.