White Horses
“This is Kania,” she continued, offering sugar. She then went down the line, checking water and naming each horse as it came forward for its treat: “This is Shaitan, this is Sheiky, this is Fantan, and this is Dubai.”
Each of the horses had the dished face and wide forehead of the true Arabian. All of the horses were pure white.
They recrossed the aisle to the Lipizzaner side of the barn. “And this is our darling Coco, our rosinback horse.”
“What is a rosinback?” he asked curiously.
“Coco is the horse most of the trick riding is done on. We put rosin on his back so that the vaulters’ slippers won’t slide.” She patted his white face. “He’s part Percheron and he’s a sweetheart.”
When she spoke to her horses her voice was soft and full of love. For the first time, Leo found himself liking this circus girl.
“Are these all your performance horses?” he asked.
“Yes. The next horses in line are our wagon horses. They deserve a treat, too.” They went along the line and fed eight more horses, who came as eagerly for their sugar as the elite horses had.
“I’m looking forward to seeing them all in the light of day,” Leo said as he accompanied Gabrielle to the door. The greyhound preceded them out.
“They are lovely horses,” she said. “My papa picked them all. He used to be Master of the Horse under the late king, you know.”
“So Rothschild told me. He also told me that your father died recently. I am sorry for your loss.”
“We miss him very much,” she said softly. “It is a big responsibility for me, to try to run the circus the way he would have wanted. But I have the help of my brothers and Emma and Gerard.”
He glanced down at the girl at his side. It was a lot of responsibility to rest on those slender shoulders, he thought. And she had had the courage to take on Rothschild’s gold, too.
“Your brothers are very young.”
“Yes, but Papa trained them well.”
“I noticed that it was your name on the circus bill.”
“I am the featured rider and trainer, yes. Mathieu and Albert are good riders, but not as good as I.” She said this perfectly matter-of-factly. “I have Papa’s touch with horses, you see.”
They were approaching the door to the farmhouse kitchen and he held up the lantern to illuminate the door-knob.
“Who is Luc Balzac, the other equestrian mentioned on the bill?” he asked.
He noticed the faintest change in her voice as she answered. “Oh, Luc is a wonderful rider. You will have to see him to believe what he can do.”
She pushed open the kitchen door and went inside, followed by Leo. As he extinguished the lantern she went to the sink. “I will just wash up these dishes,” she said. “You can dry.”
He looked up from the lantern. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, you can dry these dishes after I wash them. Here is a towel.”
He stared at the towel she was holding out as if it was a poisonous snake. She chuckled, a rich, husky sound that was thoroughly delightful. “Have you never dried dishes before?” she asked disbelievingly.
“No, I have not,” he replied defensively.
“Well, now is a good time to start,” she said. “In the circus we all have to do a little of everything.”
He considered telling her to go to the devil, but then his common sense stepped in. I suppose I must blend in, he thought. It’s only for a month.
He came forward and took the towel from her hand. He waited while she washed a plate in a pan of water and then he dried it.
“See?” she said, giving him a smile. “It’s not so bad.”
He looked back impassively. “It’s a new experience,” he said.
Her smile faded and she turned away, plunked another plate in the pan and washed it.
It was about ten o’clock at night when everyone went to bed. There was a tense silence as they all went up the stairs and Leo and Gabrielle went together into her room.
“I will be right next door if you need me,” Mathieu told his sister meaningfully.
“I’m sure I won’t,” she replied. “Anyway, I have Colette. Get some sleep, Mathieu, and stop worrying about me.”
“Good night, chérie,” Emma said, and kissed her on the cheek.
“Good night,” Gabrielle replied. She opened the door to her bedroom. “Come along, Leo,” she said, then went into the room, leaving the door open for him.
She talks to me exactly as if I was her dog, Leo thought indignantly as he followed her in, candle in hand.
The bedroom was not large. It had a four-poster bed, and at its foot a narrow trundle bed had been made up with a quilt and a pillow. There was one nightstand and a wardrobe and a single straight chair in front of the fireplace.
Pretty dismal, Leo thought, thinking of his own sumptuous bedroom at home.
The dog jumped onto the bed and settled herself along the bottom. He looked at her for a moment before he turned to Gabrielle. “Is this your farm?” he asked.
“No, we rented it for the winter. It is not so easy to find a place for four months that has the stabling we require, so we have to take what we can get. We had this place last winter and I was lucky enough to get it again this year. They are looking to sell it, but the wartime economy is bad.” She paused and gazed around the tiny room.
“Getting dressed and undressed is going to be a problem,” she finally said. “There is no private dressing room in any of the places where we will be staying. If we turn our backs on each other can I trust you not to look?”
“Certainly,” he said stiffly.
“All right. I will get undressed in front of the wardrobe and you can get undressed on the far side of the bed. Don’t look until I say it’s all right.”
Leo said, “I had intended to sleep in my clothing.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she replied. “You don’t have that many changes and we don’t have much chance to do laundry. Don’t you have a nightshirt with you?”
He did not enjoy being called stupid and replied even more stiffly than before. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Then put it on,” she ordered. “I have been a married woman. I have seen a man in a nightshirt before. You won’t shock me.”
The humor of the situation suddenly struck him. He was sounding as if he was a virgin, he thought. His mouth quirked into a smile. Very well, he thought, if he wasn’t going to scandalize her in his nightshirt he would be very much more comfortable than he would be sleeping in his clothes.
“All right,” he said. He lifted his portmanteau onto the bed, extracted a nightshirt and turned his back. “I won’t turn around until you tell me I can,” he said.
“Good.” He heard her walking toward the wardrobe. Silence fell as he removed his clothing and slid the nightshirt over his head. The bedroom was cold and he moved quickly. It was about three minutes before he heard her say, “All right. You can look now.”
He turned around and she was wearing a long white flannel gown with a collar and buttons. Her hair was still fixed into a coronet around her small head. “You can have the bed. I’ll fit in the trundle bed much better than you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of taking your bed,” he said with surprise. “No gentleman would consign a lady to a cot while he slept in comfort.”
“You may be a gentleman, but I’m not a lady,” Gabrielle said. “I’m a practical woman who works for her living. And it’s ridiculous to fold you up on that bed when I shall be perfectly comfortable there.”
As if to prove her point, she went over to the trundle and sat down. Then she reached up and began to remove the pins from her braids. “Go ahead,” she said. “Get into bed. It’s cold in this room and your legs are bare.”
He was slightly scandalized. There was no other way to put it. Leo was far from being a virgin, but he was a little off balance with this girl who coped so matter-offactly with their intimacy.
“What about the dog?” he asked.
“She always sleeps on the bed. She won’t bother you. You have plenty of room.”
Slowly he pulled the covers back from the bed and got in. He watched in silence as she unbraided her hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders and down her back. Then she took a ribbon and tied it at the nape of her neck.
She caught him looking at her. “Good night, Leo,” she said pointedly.
“Good night…Gabrielle,” he replied.
She nodded with satisfaction. “That is the first time you have said my name. It’s not so bad, is it? Will you blow the candle out?”
He blew the candle out and listened to the small sounds she made as she pulled the covers up around her and settled herself to sleep.
Well, he thought, the important thing is to get the gold to Wellington. If I have to put up with a snip of a girl ordering me around I suppose I can endure it.
The bulk of Colette was warm against his chilly feet. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.
Gabrielle woke in the middle of the night, something that was unusual for her. For a moment she was disoriented, finding herself in a strange bed. Then she remembered that she was in the trundle bed and she also remembered who was sharing the room with her.
Leo. It suited him, she thought, a big golden lion of a man. And his eyes—never had she seen that shade of aquamarine. There was an aloof look in those eyes, however. She knew he was not happy to be joining a circus.
Perhaps he is the younger son of some great lord, she thought. Perhaps that is why he sought to make the army his career.
She lay quietly and listened. The room was silent. If she listened very carefully she could hear Leo breathing.
He doesn’t snore. That’s nice. André used to snore and I would have to push him to turn him over.
Her thoughts turned to her dead husband and sadness overcame her. He had been so full of energy, André. It wasn’t fair that life had been taken from him at such a young age.
Two years ago he was alive. Two years ago we shared a room together, and now I share it with this stranger, this cold Englishman who thinks he is better than the rest of us.
How he had looked when she told him to turn his back and undress! She swallowed a giggle. The circus will take the starch out of him, she thought. I’ll see to that.
Five
When Gabrielle arose the following morning Leo heard her and sat up in bed. It was still dark.
“We need to be on the road early,” she said. She lit a candle. “I want to be in Amiens by late afternoon. Turn your back so I can get dressed. Then I will get out of your way.”
He obliged and listened to the sounds she made as she got into her clothes. Then she said, “All right.”
He turned to look at her and found her clad in high boots, a brown divided skirt and a white, long-sleeved shirt. “Come downstairs when you are ready and Emma will prepare you breakfast,” she said.
He watched her small, straight, slender back disappear out the door, followed by her dog, then he got up and opened the package of clothing they had bought yesterday. He took out a coarse cotton shirt and regarded it with distaste. It pulled on over the head and had a tie at the neck. He put the shirt on and then his breeches. The shirt was loose and billowed out of his tight breeches.
I must look a sight, he thought ruefully. If Fitz and the others could see me now, how they would laugh.
He pulled on his boots and went down to the kitchen to see what was for breakfast.
Emma was in the kitchen with her dogs when he entered. “Good morning, Leo,” she said cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied courteously.
Six dogs looked at him, but none came to sniff him. They remained where they were, curled up on an old quilt under the window.
Emma got up from her chair and went to the counter. “There is coffee and bread and butter,” she said.
He was used to an English breakfast, with eggs and meat, and the proffered bread seemed rather paltry. But, “That will be fine” was all he said, and let her pour him his coffee and add milk in the French way. Then he took his plate and went to the table.
“Where is everyone else?” he asked as he took a long drink of the coffee.
“Getting the wagons ready,” she replied.
“There looked to be quite a few wagons in the field,” he remarked. “How many are in the caravan?”
“Let me think.” She frowned slightly. “I have a wagon, the Robichons have two wagons, and the Martins—they are the tightrope dancers—have one. The Maroni brothers—they are the tumblers—have one, and Sully, our clown, shares a wagon with Paul Gronow, our juggler. Luc Balzac has a wagon. Then there is the bandwagon. That makes eight, I believe. Then we have two more wagons filled with hay and grain, and one for the tents and one for benches. So that makes twelve altogether.”
“That’s not a lot to house a whole circus.”
“The horses are our chief performers, and they get tied behind the wagons.”
The kitchen door opened and Mathieu and Albert came in. They were dressed in trousers, scuffed boots and knitted sweaters. “All that’s left to do is to harness up the horses,” Mathieu said. “Is there more coffee, Emma?”
“Where is your sister?” Leo asked Albert as Emma poured both boys a cup.
“She went back upstairs to pack her clothes.”
“All the costumes are packed, I hope,” Emma said.
Leo decided it was time to discuss their important cargo. “I would like to see the gold, if you please.”
Mathieu scowled. “I can show you where it is,” Albert offered. He stood up and started for the door. Leo followed him.
“Make sure there is no chance of anyone coming in on you, Albert,” Mathieu warned.
“I know,” the boy replied. “Come with me, Leo, and I will show you.”
They exited the kitchen and began to walk across the field to where the wagons were parked in two lines. Most of the wagons had horses picketed next to them. The sun had come up and Leo was conscious of people looking at him curiously as he walked with Albert.
“How long has your sister’s husband been dead?” he asked Albert. “Will people think it’s odd that she has married again?”
“André has been dead for a year and a half,” Albert said. “I don’t think people will be surprised that Gabrielle has remarried, but they will be surprised to find she has married a noncircus man. We will have to find something for you to do so you don’t look too odd.”
“I can help with the horses,” Leo said.
Albert cast him a dubious look. “We’ll see,” he said.
Leo was insulted. Evidently this slight boy didn’t think he was fit to be trusted with circus horses. “I assure you that I am capable of looking after a horse,” he said coldly. “I have been riding since I was four years old.”
Albert said carefully, “You see, our horses are different from the horses you rode, Leo.” By “different” it was clear that he meant “better.”
“And somehow I don’t see you carrying manure, which is what helping out with the horses entails.”
Leo hid his surprise. He hadn’t envisioned himself carrying manure, either, but he was certainly capable of doing so, if necessary. He said grimly, “If you need me to carry manure, then I can do it.”
“Let’s see what Gabrielle says,” Albert said. “She’s the one who doles out the jobs.”
They had reached the first wagon. “This is ours.”
The wagon was painted white, with the words Robichon Cirque Equestre written on its side in red letters. There was a picture of two horses’ heads painted under it.
Leo stopped to look at the picture. “The Lipizzaners?” he asked.
Albert nodded. “The one on the left is Sandi and the other one is Noble.”
The two pictures were clearly painted by one who knew horses.
“It’s a very good painting,” Leo said slowly, leaning in for a closer look. “Who did it?”
“I did,” Albert said.
Leo looked at him. “You have talent.”
A faint flush stained Albert’s cheeks. “I love to paint and draw,” he said.
“Do you have other pictures?” Leo asked.
“Yes. I have pictures of some of the places that we’ve visited. And I have done many pictures of the circus and its horses.”
“I’d like to see them,” Leo said.
The boy’s flush deepened. “I would be happy to show you.”
They had come to the back of the wagon, which had two doors that opened outward. Albert opened the doors and climbed in, followed by Leo.
The wagon was lined with trunks. “Extra costumes and props,” Albert explained. The center of the wagon was empty save for an old upholstered sofa and some large pillows. The floor was bare wooden boards. “Here,” Albert said. He went to the front of the sofa and dropped to his hands and knees. “See, this board is loose.” He took a knife out of his pocket, fitted it between the boards and pulled it up. “They were designed to fit together very tightly, but once you pry this one up, the rest of them can be lifted out.” He removed a few more boards. “Come and see,” he said.
Leo got down on his own knees and peered into the space that was revealed below the floorboards. “It’s too dark to see anything,” he said.
“Here, I’ll get a candle.” Albert rummaged through one of the trunks and took out a candle and a strike-alight. He lit the candle and brought it back to Leo, who used it to illuminate the shallow space below.
He saw a brown canvas bag. He lifted it out and pulled it open. Inside was a large pile of gold napoléon d’or coins. He nodded with satisfaction. “Excellent,” he said.
“Monsieur Rothschild had both our wagons fitted out like this. It is very clever, I think. The boards fit so closely together that they don’t have to be nailed.”
“Yes, it is clever,” Leo agreed slowly.
“Are you satisfied?” Albert asked.
Leo replaced the moneybag. “I’d like to see the other wagon,” he said.
Albert frowned. “It’s just like this one.”
“Nevertheless, I must verify that the gold is there.”
“As you wish,” Albert said stiffly, and led the way to the second wagon, which bore a picture of three horses all rearing in unison.
They both climbed into the wagon, which was loaded with saddles and bridles and more trunks. They repeated the same inspection that Leo had made of the other wagon, then replaced the floorboards and started back to the house.
“I take it your sister’s husband was a circus man,” Leo said easily as they walked side by side.
Albert looked up at him. “Oh, yes. André was a very great horseman. I have seen him jump two horses over four feet while he was standing on their backs.”
“Good God,” Leo said.
“Yes. Luc Balzac, who traveled with us last year, is a good equestrian, but he is not as good as André was.”
“What a pity that he should die so young.”
“It was terrible,” Albert confided. “Gabrielle was distraught. They had only been married a few months.”
“How sad,” Leo said gravely.
“Yes. Gabrielle was sad for a long time. But over the winter she seemed to become happy again. Emma says that she has gotten over it.”
They had reached the house and Leo did not reply. Albert opened the kitchen door and peered in. Leo heard Emma say, “Get yourself down to the barn, Albert. They need you to help harness the horses.”
“All right, Emma,” Albert said. He turned to Leo. “You can wait here with Emma and we’ll call you when we’re ready to go.”
“I’ll go down to the barn with you,” Leo said. He looked down at the old building where Mathieu was putting a harness on two hefty-looking draft horses. “Perhaps I can help by holding a horse or two.”
They arrived at the barn just as Gabrielle came out leading two more horses. “Albert,” she called when she saw them. “Harness up Jacques and Tonton. Leo, you can help by leading the harnessed horses out to the wagons and hitching them up.”
By eight o’clock they were ready to go. Gabrielle said to Leo, “Come with me and I will introduce you around before we leave.”
She walked next to him as they approached three people standing beside a wagon. Gabrielle smiled at them nervously. “I have come to introduce my new husband. Leo, this is Henri and Carlotta Martin and Henri’s brother, Franz, our rope dancers.” Both men had black hair and the woman was blond, wearing a cotton dress with a large blue shawl draped over her shoulders.
“I am pleased to meet you,” Leo said as genially as he could.
“A new husband?” Carlotta remarked. She arched a plucked brow. “And so handsome, Gabrielle.”
“I have high standards,” Gabrielle replied serenely.
Henri asked, “What do you do, Leo? You’re awfully big to be an equestrian.”
“I’m afraid I’m not a circus person,” Leo said. “But I will be happy to pitch in and help in any way I can.”
“Not a circus person?” Franz said. He could not have looked more shocked if Leo had announced he was a vampire.
Everyone looked at Gabrielle. “Where did you meet?” Carlotta asked.
“In Brussels,” Gabrielle said easily. “It was quite a whirlwind romance, and here we are.”
Carlotta gave Leo an arch smile. “Well, I can see why Gabrielle fell in love with you, Leo.”
Leo did not smile back. “Thank you, madame,” he said in an expressionless tone.
The smile faded from Carlotta’s face. “Don’t call me ‘madame.’ Everyone in this circus is on a first-name basis with everyone else.”
Evidently he had insulted her. Leo forced a smile to his face. “Then thank you, Carlotta,” he said.
Her smile bloomed again. “Gabrielle is a very lucky girl.”
“It is I who am the lucky one,” Leo replied gallantly.
“Come along,” Gabrielle said. “I want to introduce you to the others.”
The rest of the introductions went much the same as the first. Leo met the four Maroni brothers, who were tumblers; the four band members Adolphe and Antonio Laurent, and Pierre Maheu and his wife, Jeanne. Paul Gronow, the juggler; and Sully, the clown. The only introduction that sounded a note of trouble to come was Leo’s introduction to Luc Balzac, the equestrian.
“Married? When the hell did you get married?” he said angrily to Gabrielle when she introduced Leo.
Leo looked at him measuringly. He was a tall—though not nearly as tall as Leo—slender young man with black hair and blazing blue eyes.
“Quite recently,” Gabrielle said. There were spots of color in her cheeks.
“I thought you were still mourning your precious André.” There could be no doubt that the young man was furious. And hurt.
“I was, but then I met Leo and things changed. André wouldn’t mind. He would want me to be happy.”
Luc snorted and turned hostile eyes toward Leo. “So what do you do, pretty boy?”
Leo opened his mouth to give the antagonistic young man a scalding dressing down, but then he stopped himself. If he played the aristocrat he would betray his disguise. So he forced himself to reply dispassionately that he would be happy to help around the circus as best he could.
The angry blue eyes turned back to Gabrielle. “Christ, Gabrielle, you didn’t even marry a rider!”
“Leo can ride very well,” she said defensively. “He just does not perform.”
“Then what good is he?” Luc demanded.
Leo said firmly, “I am good for Gabrielle and she is good for me. We love each other and the circus has nothing to do with it.”
Good God, he thought. Where did that come from?
Gabrielle moved closer to him, so that he could feel her body actually touching his. “That is so, Luc, and you are just going to have to get used to it,” she said firmly.
“You said that someday you would marry me!”
“I never said any such thing,” she replied hotly. “I said I was not ready to marry again when you asked me. I never said anything about the future.”
“Merde!” Luc said.
Leo had had enough. “Watch your tongue. There is a lady present.”
Luc flicked him an angry blue glance. “Believe me, Gabrielle has heard much worse than that.”
“Not in my company,” Leo said grimly.
“What’s done is done, Luc,” Gabrielle said. “Now, we are ready to get moving so I suggest you get into your wagon.” She touched Leo’s arm with her hand. “Come along, Leo,” she said.