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comprehension slowly dawning. “Brisbane, I am not ashamed of what you are. Are you?”
    He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. After a long moment, he spoke. “No, of course not. I love my mother’s people. But I am not one of them, not entirely. And they never let me forget it. For every Roma like Alma who recognises me as a child of their blood, there are half a dozen like Marigold who wouldn’t cross the street to—” He broke off with a rueful smile. “Well, let’s just say they wouldn’t bestir themselves to save me if I happened to be in peril. It is a complicated relationship, Julia.”
    “Not least because your gift is greater than Marigold’s apparently,” I added.
    His gaze slid away. “So she fancies.”
    I put a finger under his chin and turned his head back towards me. “Brisbane?”
    “Very well. Marigold is good with palms, but that’s the extent of her skills. Rosalie has her potions and embrocations, and Alma can read tea leaves when the moon is full, but none of them have the ability my mother did.”
    Brisbane seldom spoke of his mother, and the effort cost him. She had died, tragically, in circumstances for which he still blamed himself. “The ability you have,” I reminded him.
    “Marigold resents it. It always rankled her that my mother had the sight and she didn’t. Seeing a poshrat like me inherit it half killed her. She might have been more understanding if I’d stayed with them and married a Gypsy girl and used it for them. But because I dared to strike out on my own and live with gorgios , well, you saw her.”
    “She is wrong, you know. What you do is important. You save people,” I told him, pressing my lips to the half-moon scar high upon his cheekbone. “You saved me.”
    His arm tightened about my waist and we stood for a long moment, wrapped in each other.
    “My God, you’re like a pair of rabbits, rutting in the hedgerows,” said a lazy voice behind us.
    I turned to see my brother Plum picking his way towards us through the grass. I gave him a sweet smile. “I will give you a thousand pounds to go away and pretend you never saw us.”
    His expression was rueful. “I am sent by our dear sister Olivia to find you, and I would not dare her rage for ten thousand, particularly when she has a splitting head from drinking too much of Father’s best single malt last night. I come bearing news: your wedding dress has arrived from Paris and she wants you to try the blasted thing on. And, Brisbane, if you are quite finished mauling my sister, you might think about putting on the rest of your clothes.”
    Plum took me firmly by the hand and towed me away, and as we left, Brisbane reached for his shirt. Over the sound of the rushing river, I could hear him muttering to himself, “Thirty-six hours. Thirty-six hours.”

    No sooner had we left Brisbane than I pointed Plum in the direction of the Gypsy camp.
    “I want to pay a call,” I told him.
    “A call? Julia, they’re Gypsies, not the ladies’ benevolent society. What the devil are you thinking?”
    As we walked, I sketched out the scene I had just witnessed between Brisbane and his aunts. “I think she feels left out,” I finished. “She put on an air as if she were jesting, but I believe she thinks the Roma have been terribly slighted at not receiving an invitation.”
    “And you mean to invite them? Into St. Barnabas?”
    I turned to face him squarely. “I do. And if that troubles you, you can take yourself off right now. I’ll not hear another word against Brisbane or his family. I mean it, Plum.”
    He held up his hands as if to ward me off. “I believe you. And you must know I am the last person who would speak ill of Brisbane.”
    I raised a brow in his direction. “That surprises me. I did not think you had entirely warmed to him.”
    “I didn’t. Not at first,” he admitted. “But I have had occasion to speak with him about his work. Quite interesting stuff.”
    “Are you thinking of becoming