White Horses

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!”