White Horses. Joan Wolf

      “Here is the carriage,” he said crisply, grateful for the distraction. “Are you ready, ladies?”

      Gerard stopped the carriage in front of the hotel door and the three of them went out to meet it.

      Gabrielle’s attempt to buy clothing for Leo was not very successful; he was too tall for any of the trousers they looked at, although they did manage to buy some plain white cotton shirts that were more appropriate than his own custom-tailored ones.

      “I can make him some trousers,” Emma finally said to Gabrielle, and so they bought material instead.

      Leo found himself alternating between indignation and amusement at the way the two women treated him. You would think I was five years old, he thought, as Gabrielle held a shirt up in front of him and nodded that it would be all right. They made their purchases and returned to the carriage for the final leg of the journey into Lille.

      The circus was gathered on the outskirts of the city, on the farm that Gabrielle’s family had rented for the winter months. As they drove in, Leo saw a collection of a dozen or so wagons parked in a big field. Gerard drove past the wagons, however, and went directly to the farmhouse, where his passengers alighted.

      A slender young man, who looked like a masculine copy of Gabrielle, came out to meet the carriage.

      “Leo, this is my brother, Mathieu,” Gabrielle said. “Mathieu, this is my new husband, Leo Standish.”

      “How do you do, Mathieu,” Leo said.

      Mathieu looked from Leo to Gabrielle. “He’s going to be very hard to hide. He’s so big—and he certainly doesn’t look French.”

      “I know, but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Gabrielle said. “He’s what Monsieur Rothschild sent us.”

      “What if we said he was Swedish?” Mathieu asked. “Would people know that his accent was English and not Swedish?”

      “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Leo said flatly. He did not at all appreciate being talked about as if he wasn’t there. “If someone does recognize my English accent they will wonder why you are attempting to disguise me.”

      Mathieu frowned, clearly not liking having his idea so summarily rejected.

      “All circuses are international,” Gabrielle said briskly. “The Maronis are Italian, after all, Mathieu, and the Cirque Barent has an English clown. It will be all right. Now, can we go into the house instead of standing here in the front yard?”

      Leo had to duck his head as he went through the front door. The room that he found himself in was the main living room of the farmhouse. It was furnished with heavy oak furniture and on the walls were a series of rural landscapes. As if on cue, a fawn-colored greyhound came racing up to Gabrielle. She bent to caress the beautiful, deerlike head. “Colette, my darling. How are you? Did you miss me?”

      The dog sniffed her clothes and her hands.

      “She was a lost soul without you,” Mathieu said. “You have her so spoiled, Gabrielle, that she just pines away when you are gone.”

      “Poor little girl,” Gabrielle crooned. “I missed you, too.”

      Leo loved dogs. “What a beautiful animal,” he said. The dog turned her head as if she had understood him. He snapped his fingers and she came to him, allowing him to caress her with royal grace. Then she returned to Gabrielle.

      There was a rush at the door and more dogs came dashing in. “Mes enfants!” Emma cried. “Here you are!”

      Leo looked at the six small terriers that were leaping around Emma. “Good heavens,” he said.

      Emma smiled at him. “These are my trained dogs. You will see them in action when we perform.”

      The room was very crowded with dogs. Emma said to Gabrielle, “I will take them outside and then upstairs to my room.” She held the door open and the dogs scampered out, followed by Emma.

      Gabrielle turned to her brother. “Where is Albert?”

      “He went down to the barn to check on the horses. He’ll be back soon,” Mathieu said.

      “Albert is your other brother?” Leo asked.

      “Yes. He is two years younger than Mathieu.”

      “And how old are you, Mathieu?” Leo asked.

      “Nineteen,” the boy replied.

      Leo’s eyes went to Gabrielle, who was standing with one hand resting on her dog’s head. “Who owns the circus?” he asked. “I thought it was you.”

      “My brothers and I own it together,” she replied, “but Papa put me in charge because I am the eldest.”

      “How old are you?” Leo asked curiously.

      “Twenty-two,” she replied.

      Emma said, “Here is Albert now.”

      A young boy who looked like Mathieu, but whose hair was several shades lighter, came into the room.

      “Gabrielle!” He went to hug her. “Everything went all right?”

      “Yes. Albert, this is Leo, my new husband.”

      The brown eyes that fixed themselves on Leo’s face were a lighter shade than Mathieu’s and Gabrielle’s. “Hello,” he said. “You are the English colonel?”

      “That’s right.” Leo held out his hand. “I am pleased to meet you, Albert. But call me Leo.”

      “The horses are all right?” Gabrielle said.

      Albert nodded.

      “Good. Now, is there any food in the kitchen? We pushed on to make it here this evening and we missed dinner.”

      “I think there’s some cold meat and bread,” Mathieu said.

      “I’ll go and fix something,” Gabrielle said. “In the meanwhile, you boys can show Leo to his room.”

      Both boys looked at her. Albert said, “Which room is his? There is no extra room.”

      “He’s going to stay in my room,” Gabrielle said. “It would look distinctly odd if he did not.”

      Both boys frowned and looked at Leo.

      “Your sister will be perfectly safe,” Leo said. “The only consequence she might suffer from this masquerade is a little embarrassment.”

      “I am never embarrassed,” Gabrielle said. “Go along now and take him upstairs.”

      The two boys and Leo, who was carrying his portmanteau, went up the stairs with obedient alacrity.

      Gabrielle fixed a plate of cold roast beef and sliced bread, which she set on the kitchen table. Emma was already sitting at the table when the boys and Leo joined them. Mathieu and Albert had already eaten, but they sat at the table, anyway, clearly wanting to hear whatever the conversation was going to be.

      Gabrielle sat down and put some meat on her plate. She looked at her two brothers, then she looked at Leo. He was piling roast beef on his plain, slightly chipped white plate.

      He looks down on us, she thought. He is an English colonel and we are just circus folk. I foresee an uncomfortable four weeks ahead.

      Leo looked up from his meal. “Has the gold been loaded?”

      Gabrielle looked at Mathieu. “Yes,” he said. “Monsieur Rothschild’s men came three days ago and transferred it into our wagons. No one saw them. The rest of the wagons only came yesterday.”

      “I would like to see the gold myself,” Leo said.

      Gabrielle was insulted. “Do you think we would lie to you?”

      “Not at all. But since