Page 27 of Midnight Conquest

Did he lie? Occasionally. But in his sixty-four years, Broderick learned that desperate belief was often more powerful than truth. A whisper of confidence could spark change. A painted path could lead someone to the real one. What did it matter if the future was imagined, so long as it gave them the courage to shape it?

And if this particular imagined future kept Veroniqueoccupied? All the better.

Aye, this lad—Anthony—might prove useful yet.

“I see a romantic adventure in yer future, laddie,” he said, his deep brogue edged with sly conspiracy. “Very near future. In fact, I believe the lass ye seek might be very close indeed. But…” Broderick paused, pretending to study the lines more intently. “Ye’ve seen her in passin’ and she sparked yer interest. Someone not from this village, though.” He released the man’s hand.

The lad’s lips parted, his eyes wide. “Ah, mayhap the beautiful Gypsy girl, Veronique,” his thoughts explored. His heart thundered. “Well, that was an interestin’ experience,” he said aloud, his outer appearance belying the thrill of anticipation beneath the surface. “Thank ye, sir.”

“Ye’re welcome, lad.” Broderick offered a courteous nod toward the tent’s flap. “Now, if ye dinnae mind, I’ve a long night ahead. Many more palms tae read.”

“Of course.” The young man stood, fumbling for the pouch at his waist. He dropped a few billon pennies into the basket by Broderick’s elbow and swaggered from the tent.

Broderick leaned back with a smug grin, arms crossed.Aye, let’s see if those seeds take root.

Rising from the table, he stepped into the night.

The Romani camp sprawled vibrant and alive across the glen, wagons gleaming in rich hues of crimson, cobalt, and gold, their carved panels a colorful display. The mingled scents of roasted meat and mulled wine drifted through the air. Fiddles sang. Laughter rose. Villagers swirled around the fires, caught in revelry.

The compulsion he’d planted the night before had done its work. The people of Strathbogie—and the surrounding village—had arrived, purses open, hearts eager.

“Not bad,” he murmured with satisfaction.

His gaze snagged on Amice. She sat where she always did—near their private campfire, that gnarled stick of hers poking embers with quiet authority. Her expression, unreadable.

But when their eyes met, her mouth curled into a slow, knowing smile.

Broderick arched a brow. “What mischief are ye brewin’ now, woman?” he asked, keeping his tone light, though a flicker of suspicion danced behind his grin.

Amice tilted her head, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. “Moi? Mischief?Non, mon fils,” she replied in her lilting French accent. “I simply observe.”

Broderick’s shoulders bounced with a huff. He narrowed his eyes. She was blocking her thoughts again, something she did far too well for his liking. “What are ye hidin’, lass?”

Her smile deepened, but she offered no answer.

Before he could press further, Nicabar approached, his face alight with enthusiasm.

“Ah,mi hermano!” Nicabar clapped Broderick’s shoulder with familiar warmth. “You were true to your word. Look at this place! I have not seen business this fine in years.” He gestured wide toward the bustling crowd. “You have done well.”

Broderick gave a half smile. “Told ye I’d deliver.”

Nicabar leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Any sign of Davina…and her handmaid?”

Broderick’s grin widened. “Not yet, eh? If the lass doesnae show soon, I’ll be sure tae do somethin’ about that.”

“Ha!” Nicabar barked a laugh, then sobered. “Do not forget—we head south next week. You gave your word, and I expect you to honor it.”

“I said I would,” Broderick replied, tone steady.

Satisfied, Nicabar gave him a firm clap on the back and disappeared into the festivities.

As his footsteps faded, Amice gave a long, knowing sigh. “It is a good thing you promised him that,mon fils.”

Broderick frowned. “Oh? And why is that?”

She tilted her head toward the road. “Because the lovely Davina just passed the camp, scurrying like a frightened mouse. If she reaches that castle, you may not get another chance. We shall be gonebeforenext week to be sure, I should think.”

Broderick straightened, his lazy stance snapping to attention. Sothatwas what she’d been hiding. A slow smile curved his lips, and a deep chuckle rolled through his chest. “You know castle walls willnae keep me out.”

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