The third trunk held . . . well, some interesting things. Some of the sort of equipment that Giselle remembered Mother using for various bits of minor magic. Books, quite a few of them. Some items that were clearly personal. Something not unlike a mirror, except it seemed to be made of black glass. Some of that stayed in the trunk, and some got stowed in various drawers and on shelves about the vardo.

“Well now,” Rosamund said cheerfully, when she had finished. “Linens and curtains, a featherbed and a few nice comforts, I think. I’ll be back—”

A tap on the side of the vardo interrupted them. They both turned to see Captain Cody standing there. “If yer goin’ to come along with us, you might as well be of some use in the show,” he said, sounding just a little bit cross. “Poor Ellie hasta move like a cat with her tail on fire t’change after th’ Quadrille. You kin take her place as a Injun gal. Ellie, give her yer costume an’ show her.” He started to move off, then came back. “An’ I ain’t payin’ ye,” he added, then truly left.

“Well,” Rosamund said, both eyebrows shooting toward her hairline. “Is he always that . . .”

Giselle shrugged. “It is his show,” she pointed out. “And you did just attach yourself to it without asking leave.”

“So I did.” Rosamund gazed at the empty doorway. “Well. I’ll do it. But only after I make myself perfectly comfortable.”

She leapt down out of the front of the vardo where the door was, tied her horse to the side of the wagon, and climbed up into the cart, chirping to the horse and slapping the reins on his back.

Giselle smiled to herself. Things were beginning to look . . . very interesting. In Hunt Master Rosamund von Schwarzwald, Captain Cody might just have met his match.

9

“WELCOME to my new home,” said Rosamund, as Giselle settled onto a fat cushion on the floor and accepted a cup of tea. “What do you think?”

“I really like it,” Giselle confessed. Rosamund had opted to get someone to come attach fold-down seats to the inside of her vardo, with permanently attached cushions. For the rest, she had added curtains in the expected earthy colors, and a lot of leather straps to hold things into their shelves. Even the bedding was in earthy colors. It didn’t look like the sort of décor most people would think of as “feminine,” but it certainly seemed to suit Rosamund.

“Fewer things to tip over. I am not an expert at driving,” Rosamund confessed. “But that is not why I invited you here. I expect there is a lot you want to ask me about.”