The week that Devi and Achille spent at the Sinti camp in the mountains had passed very quickly. Now there they were again, once more gathered around the fire

Yes, only a week had passed, but in some ways it actually seemed like they had been in the Sinti camp forever, as if Devi and Elena had never left to go to Venezia, back when they were girls. There was an easy familiarity to being in the campthe pace of life, the sights, and smellsand the sounds, especially the music. At the same time, there was something different about the music being played in camp by the end of the week.Devi knew it was because of Achille: it was a little surprising how quickly he had been accepted into the group of musicians within the clan, and had picked up a good bit of their music and their way of playingbut he had also introduced an element ofsomething else.

The music in the camp had a new complexity and richness to it. It still had the passion and flair of her people, but there were new melodies, new patternspieces that Achilles playing had added to the mixture. Now it was evening, and once again the clans musicians had gathered around the fire with their new friend, the Gadjo from the south. Others were drawn there as well, including Devi.and on the other side of the circle of light made by the fire, Elena.

In an attempt not to look at the back of Achilles head, while he strummed his guitar, Devi stared into the fire. The fire held no answers as it sometimes did. Nor did the flickering fames calm her.

Devi had never felt like this, and found herself flushing as she caught her eyes straying once more towards Achille..

Devi had always known she was pretty. She knew she wasnt beautiful like her mother had been, but she knew she had that Something that made men stare at her with expressions of gormless stupidity. But not this man, not Achille! He had shown her the upmost courtesy, but nothing more. He had not looked at her!

She picked up a stick and poked the fire, fixing her eyes on the flames.

For the first time in her life she felt confused, and that was most unusual for her. Devi never felt confused. Just for once she felt a need to confide and ask advice. But whom could she turn to? Her mother had died giving birth to her, and she had no sisters. Devi gazed at Elena, sulking on the other side of the fire. Elena was the closest thing she had to a sister, but obviously it was no use asking her advice, she was far too angry. Anyway Elena had not seemed at all affected by Achille. She had barely glanced at him when he delivered the message from the Conte.

Devi considered confiding her feelings in Nonna Agostina , who had brought her and her six brothers up after the death of their mother, but she knew Nonna would disapprove.

Nonna had her own agenda. She wanted Devi to marry a clan member, one of her many cousins, and to settle down and have children, and stop travelling around with Elena, pretending to be her maid. Nonna disapproved of this. She felt it was demeaning given Devis position in the clan. The Clan meant everything to Nonna, and Achille wasnt Clan.

Anyway Achille wasnt looking at her but seemed totally lost in his music.

Devi glanced again at Elena, and thought how their lives had been intertwined since they had first met as little girls, when the Conte had first brought Elena to the Clan for safety. At first Elena hadnt even been able to speak Italian, but she had quickly learnt as the girls became inseparable friends. To Devi, Elena had become the sister she didnt have, and god knows she had plenty of brothers.

Almost a year had passed before the Conte had returned to fetch Elena, and Devi had begged to be allowed to go with her. The Conte had promised her father that she would receive the same education as Elena, and to her delight her father had agreed, thinking it would be beneficial for his daughter to see the world beyond their mountain home, and everyone knew that Venice was the World.

And Venice had not disappointed her! She had been dazzled as they arrived at dusk with all the lights making the city shimmer in the water like a city of jewels.

The same cannot be said about the convent!!!

They had both loathed the convent. The Nuns, the rules, the endless prayers and their hypocrisy!

They had quickly found ways to escape their supervision, and had spent many an afternoon, when the Nuns were too busy preparing for the evenings entertainments, roaming the Calle and exploring the city. Elena knew no more about Venice than she did, so it had been an adventure of discovery for both of them.

Most of the time they got away with their outings, but sometimes they were caught and then they would be punished. Elena would have to pray on her knees for hours. She was, after all, a noblemans daughter, so the Nuns wouldnt beat her. The Nuns had no such scruples about Devi and were determined to beat the wilfulness out of her, which of course had not worked! Devi grinned to herself as she poked the fire with her stick.

Several years had passed in this way, and along the way both of them had even absorbed some education, but eventually as they neared womanhood, Elena had been recalled to her family home, and of course Devi went with her. They were collected by servants and brought to the Malcontenta, where they were presented to Elenas paternal grandmother, Donna Elizabetta.

Even Devi had felt subdued in the presence of this Signora, re-splendid and elegant in her afternoon gown, glittering with jewels. And she had been cross, very cross indeed! The Nuns had been very thorough in their reports.

Donna Elizabetta had decided that Elena should go to the French court, at Versailles, and serve as a lady-in-waiting, under the supervision of the Contesse de Noailles, an old friend of hers. She would live in the dormitory with the other young daughters of the nobility, and Devi would go with her as her personal maid. The rest of the interview was loaded with threats of what would happen to them if they disgraced themselves in any way, but neither of them had listened beyong the word Versailles!!!!

Versailles! All the girls at the convent talked of this magical place, and now they were going to be part of it!

So, filled with excitement and dreams they had driven off in the Contes carriage.

How disappointed they had both been!!!!

Once the initial magnificence of the Palace and its grounds had worn off, they had found court life dull and difficult.

Elena was just an unknown Venetian Contessa, with looks too dark to be fashionable and far too young to attend any important functions. As for Devi, the French servants had despised her for her origins. Well the girls had. With the boys it had been a different matter. It was at Versailles that Devi had become fully aware that she had that certain something. Every young male in service and several young noblemen had tried in vain to court her favours, bringing her sweetmeats, posies and all manners of gifts. She had accepted their offerings, but none had impressed her beyond amusement.

It was Elena who had first suggested they should sneak out and go to Paris. They could get a ride at dawn and back again by dusk with the laundry carts. No one would miss them, and if they did, they wouldnt care. So, dressed as serving girls, they had gone. What an adventure they had had! They had walked the streets, eating from the food stalls, and absorbing the atmosphere of Paris. The dirt and the poverty, the grand Hotels of the nobility, the fancy monogramed carriages. The air had been electric with discontent and resentment, with energy and life.

They had repeated their outings several times before Elena had spoilt things by falling in love with some English, revolutionary poet. He was supposed to be a student at the Sorbonne University, but seemed intent on spending his allowance printing pamphlets satirising the young Queen.

Of course they had been discovered, and Devi had been blamed as a bad influence. Elena was packed off to the Swedish court at Drottingholm, considered by the Conte to be less racy than Versailles, and she had been sent back to the mountains, to drag her heels under the watchful eye of Nonna.

After some years Elena had returned to Venice, and Devi had been allowed to join her, but it had been a different Elena to the friend she had known. Elena had become a restless soul, busying herself with the affairs of the estate, and her obsession with organising apprenticeships for the Orphans of Venice. Something had happened in Sweden to change Elena, but she wasnt telling anyone, not even Devi. Elena still travelled. On Family business she said, She didnt often take Devi with her but at least Devi didnt have to return to the mountains and Nonnas endless attempts at matchmaking. When Elena went on one of her trips, she could drag her heels at one of the Foscari houses.

So here they were. All because Elena couldnt resist picking up lame ducks, like that Mercury. It was unfortunate he had been beaten up, but he had survived and he probably deserved it for other reasons, so what was the problem? There was no reason for Elena to feel so responsible. It had been obvious from the start that Signor Gandt was on the make. Devi couldnt understand why Elena couldnt see what an opportunist he was.

On the morrow she would travel with Achille back to Venice, to see what was happening and gather information, and Elena would stay here. Devi stole a glance at Achille, and wondered if she should ask him what time he wanted to leave, even though she already knew the answer. It would be an excuse to make him talk to her and look at her. She poked the fire angrily and decided not to ask.