Follow Your Heart by Barbara Cartland Page A

for.
    Lendi could then, quite easily, read their thoughts.
    She was still telling Mireli and Della fascinating secrets when they were told that supper was ready, so the two girls hurried down the steps to see flames rising high in the fire round a large steaming pot.
    Already some of the gypsy family were seated on the ground and they smiled at Della as she joined them.
    Most of them, Della realised, were amused by her hair and there was no doubt that Piramus and the other men regarded her with admiration.
    As everyone was hungry the gypsies did not talk while they were eating and the stew, which Della guessed was a mixture of rabbit and chicken, was delicious.
    There were potatoes cooked in their skins to go with the stew and fresh vegetables and fruit to finish their supper.
    Then one of the men started to play a violin. He played very softly so as not to disturb anyone nearby.
    There was no human habitation to be seen and Della was certain they were camping on private property.
    She did not like to ask outright where they were nor who had given them permission to camp on what was obviously a private field surrounded by woods on both sides.
    In fact, when she went to bed, she still had no idea where she was and it was therefore very unlikely that her uncle would be able to guess where the gypsies had gone.
    â€˜Nothing is better for me at the moment than secrecy,’ she told herself firmly. ‘And if I can talk to Lendi tomorrow, perhaps she will be able to help me solve the problems which are still with me, however cleverly I am disguised.’
    It was a depressing thought and yet when she and Mireli blew out the candles in the caravan, she fell asleep almost immediately.
    *
    The next day was warm and the sun made the countryside even more beautiful than it had looked in the starlight.
    What Della craved to do more than anything else was to ride through the woods, but she was, however, not certain if the gypsies were entitled to enter the woods. She felt it might be embarrassing to ask Piramus if she could and be refused.
    Instead, when she had helped Mireli to tidy the caravan, she went to find Lendi. She had learnt by this time that the gypsy women took it in turns to look after her.
    They washed her, tidied her hair, made her bed and cleaned out her caravan. The children picked wild flowers for her.
    When Della saw Lendi, she thought, she was looking much better, although perhaps glamorous was the right word to describe her.
    Della could understand only too well how exciting it was when the gypsies arrived in the local village and Lendi, looking like the Gypsy Queen, would receive them and tell their fortunes.
    Now she was wrapped in a beautifully embroidered shawl with her dark hair well arranged and neat and she was wearing some exquisitely made gypsy jewellery that Della guessed had come from India.
    â€œYou look magnificent!” exclaimed Della when she entered the caravan.
    Lendi chuckled.
    â€œI am expecting a visitor,” she said. “I can feel him coming towards me.”
    Della was curious, but again she considered it was unwise to ask questions.
    Then Mireli piped up surprisingly,
    â€œI suppose you thinking of – Marquis. He very kind to us last year.”
    Della’s eyes widened and she wondered who this Marquis could be and if she had ever heard of him.
    Then Piramus’s clear voice came from outside the caravan. He was standing at the bottom of the steps.
    â€œHis Lordship’s on way, Lendi,” he called. “I see horse coming through wood.”
    Della found it impossible not to enquire curiously,
    â€œWhat is the name of the Marquis you are now expecting? I suppose we must be camped on his estate.”
    â€œMarquis of Chorlton,” replied Lendi. “He always kind to gypsies – we come – every year.”
    Della was trying to think where she had heard the name.
    Somehow it was familiar, but she could not remember her uncle talking about a