"Well, 'tis true," he admitted. "But the journey is long. If you stay, you must earn your passage."

Hope sprang to life inside of her. "The money, what little I have, is yours."

He shook his head. "Keep your small stash guarded. You said that you were not afraid of hard work. We shall see."

Labor? Did he mean that she would fetch and carry? Perhaps cook and clean? Well, Elise was not accustomed to that type of labor, but she would manage.

"Agreed. I will work for my passage."

She thought a slight smile crossed his sensual mouth before he said, "I need to sleep. Tomorrow I will introduce you to the others. Allow me to do the talking."

Elise nodded, relieved that she would not be pitched outside the wagon into the darkness. But there was a problem. He needed rest and there was but one bed.

"I will sleep on the floor," she decided, although the prospect wasn't appealing. Nor did she imagine she would be able to sleep in the small wagon with a stranger, one who had already taken liberties with her. She started to rise, but he waved her back.

"I'll take the floor... for tonight," he added.

"For tonight" held an ominous ring. For tonight and then she would be forced to sleep on the floor? For tonight and then she would be forced to share his bed? He grabbed one of the blankets stacked neatly upon the cot and turned down the lantern.

After she heard him settle, Elise stretched out upon the cot. It would be a long night for her. If she made it through the dark hours until morning without being either murdered or molested, what would tomorrow bring?

CHAPTER 3.

Sterling stared at his wagon. He sat around a campfire with the other members of the caravan, eating a breakfast of wild berries and stew. He could scarce pay attention to the troupe's jibes at one another or the occasional arguments that broke out among them. Elise occupied his mind. He hadn't awoken his guest this morning.

Reality would find her soon enough. He hadn't told the others about Elise. Sterling wasn't by nature free with his words or open with his emotions. It had been that way with him since the age of sixteen... since he'd lost his parents and learned the horrible truth about his lineage. Worse things existed than having an uncaring uncle who would sell a family member for gain... far worse things.

Mora had settled next to Sterling and now lifted a lock of his hair. "You are brooding this morning, my prince. You need a woman to take away the tension I feel coming from your body. A woman who knows how to please a man."

"He's a snake you'll never charm, Mora," Sarah Dobbs, also known as Lady Fortune when she performed, teased. "Our Beast Tamer has all the parts to please a woman, but no desire to do so. A bloody waste of nice equipment."

Her husband, Tom, a sour-looking fellow who seldom bathed or shaved, cast his wife a dirty look across the fire. "I got enough parts to keep ya happy, woman, so don't be looking elsewhere."

"Wouldn't mind his parts so much if he bothered to wash 'em once in a while," the woman muttered.

"Too much bathing ain't good for a body," her husband declared. "Ain't that so, Philip?"

Philip was often called upon to settle disputes among the troupe members. He was the leader of the ragtag group. Wagons and animals alike belonged to Philip. He collected all money from the performances and kept accounts of who earned what. Sterling supposed Philip was as close to a father figure as he would ever have, since his own had chosen to take his life rather than face his curse.

Sterling's mother had quickly followed upon his father's heels, but it was shock that probably killed her. Shock at what she had married, shock over what she had spawned from her marriage. Four sons. All of them cursed.

Sterling tugged his hair from Mora's grasp as the door to his wagon creaked open. Elise stepped outside. To say that the troupe members fell silent was an understatement. If not for the restless sounds of the animals, a person could have heard a bee pass wind.

"Who the bloody 'ell is that?" Sarah breathed.

Sterling almost smiled. "You can see into the future, Sarah," he drawled dryly. "You should already know."

In response, she frowned, then grumbled, "I tell people what they want to hear, which is seldom the truth."

Since Elise appeared as if she might turn and flee, Sterling set his plate aside and rose. "Come, Elise," he ordered, holding out a hand to her. "Meet my friends."

His friends were the oddest group of humanity Elise had ever seen gathered in one place. There was a sturdy older man with a noticeable hump upon his back. A dark-haired woman with kohl around her eyes and a snake wrapped around her neck-which was less frightening than the way the woman glared at her. A couple joined the group. Both stopped to gape at Elise, of which she did in kind. They were little people.

"Elise!" Sterling called. He still stood with his hand held out to her. "Come."

Elise swallowed the lump in her throat and joined him next to the campfire. Whatever simmered in a pot over the fire smelled wonderful.

"You must be hungry," he said. "Sit. Eat."

"Wait a moment. Who the hell is she?"

The man who owned the same booming voice Elise had heard through the mist the previous night asked the question. He wore the wildest ensemble she had ever seen. His waistcoat was bright pink, his tights, striped yellow and green. His red slippers turned up at the toes. A dark purple birthmark covered half of his face.

"Philip... and all," Sterling added, "this is Elise. Elise, this is... well, everyone."

"Where'd she come from? And what's she doing here?" a woman asked, one who, Elise noted with relief, looked perfectly normal.

"Elise is from London," Sterling provided. "She'll be staying for a while... with me."

More than one brow rose. Elise supposed she might be blushing. He made their arrangement sound far more intimate than it was... or at least than she intended for it to be. She cast Sterling a dark glance.

"She's fair," the man with the birthmark commented. "I can see where you were tempted to let this one stay, but I am the leader of this troupe. I decide who travels with us and who doesn't. The woman looks like trouble, and we all get enough of that without courting it."

A murmur of agreement followed.

"Seen her ilk before," the woman who appeared normal snorted. "You've brought a Miss Nancy among us, Sterling. Her kind don't belong here."

Elise had packed clothing she considered the least conspicuous of her station, but even so, her morning frock was far grander than the apparel those around her wore. Like Sterling with his handsome looks and perfect form, she stood out among these people.

"I-I will earn my way," she stuttered. "I'm not afraid of hard work."

The dark woman who sat on the other side of Sterling reached across him and grabbed Elise's hands. "This lily-white skin knows nothing of labor," she spat. "You do not belong here. Go back to where you came from!"

"Mora," Sterling cautioned, "where she belongs is not your decision to make."

Elise wrestled her hands from Mora's grasp, but couldn't avoid the resentment glaring at her from the woman's dark eyes. Mora. Elise had heard the name before. She recalled where and the circumstances. Now she understood the woman's dislike of her. Mora was the woman Sterling had expected to find in his bed the previous night.

"Mora has an itch for our Beast Tamer," a man who needed a shave, and a bath, by the smell that radiated from him, informed Elise. "She won't like it that he'll be scratching elsewhere."

"Watch your vulgar tongue, Tom," the little woman finally spoke. She nodded to a wagon where a young girl had exited, moving toward them. "I'm trying to raise a decent daughter, not an easy chore among the likes of you."

The girl captured Elise's attention. She would have expected that if two small people had a child together, the child would be the same as the parents. That was not the case. The girl appeared to be around the age of twelve, and she already towered above her mother and father.

"Elise has expressed a desire to take Marguerite's former position," Sterling said. "I thought she would do. Don't you agree, Philip?"

Elise's attention returned to the group. Philip's gaze ran the length of her. "She will do," he admitted. "And do nicely, if she can be taught-"

"I will teach her," Sterling interrupted. "If she is my responsibility, and she earns her keep, what harm is there in allowing her to stay?"

"Who is she?"

The child had reached the group and asked the question. Elise stared into the girl's curious blue eyes and smiled.

"Dawn, this is Elise," Sterling said.

Elise would have given a polite hello, but the man with the birthmark spoke.

"Elise is our newest performer."

Performer? Sterling had said nothing about her performing. She had assumed she would earn her way by doing menial tasks.

"What does she do?" the girl asked.

Curious to hear the answer, Elise glanced at Sterling.

"Elise will perform the veil dance," he answered.

Dawn's face darkened a shade. "Oh," she said softly, then turned and headed toward her parents' wagon.

"I had hoped we would be rid of that bit of indecency," the mother complained, then went after the child. The father followed the mother.

"Indecency?" Elise mumbled. She leaned toward Sterling and whispered, "What exactly is a veil dance?"

She enjoyed, for a brief moment, the scent of him, the same one that clung to the bedding upon his cot.

"It is a belly dance," Mora answered. "Like the concubines do to arouse the passions of the sultans in the harems of the East."

Elise felt certain her mouth dropped open. Sterling smiled.

"Could I have a word with you?" Elise narrowed her gaze upon him. "In private."

CHAPTER 4.

"Last night, you said nothing about me performing," Elise said as soon as they entered the wagon.

"I said that you would earn your passage, and you agreed to do so," Sterling reminded.

"But I thought-"

"Which was a mistake." He leaned close to her. "First rule in the world outside the protective care of which you are accustomed: Never assume anything."

Elise made a startling realization in that moment. Staring into Sterling's silver eyes, she saw his resentment toward her. "You don't like me," she whispered. "You judge me before even knowing who I am."

He didn't deny her accusations. Instead, he shrugged. "It is the way of the world. The way of this world anyway. Do you think any of us here are welcomed with open arms wherever we travel?

"No," he answered for her. "We are sneered at, laughed at, accused of any petty theft that occurs while our wagons are camped close by. We are judged because we are different. Why should we behave any differently than how we've been taught?"

Ready words of defense did not spring to life upon her tongue. Elise knew she had reacted to the people outside as most would, certainly most of her station. She'd been afraid and leery of them. Why should she expect more from Sterling than she was willing to give herself?

"Tell me about them."

Her response brought an unguarded look of surprise to his handsome features. A moment later he scoffed, "You don't care about them. All you care about is your own problems. Why pretend otherwise?"

"Make me care," she challenged.

He settled upon his cot and ran a hand through his long hair. "Wish that I could. Unfortunately, humanity only sees what is first visible to them. They seldom look beyond the skin of a man, or a woman, to seek what might truly lie beneath. Philip was born in Paris. Born with the mark of the devil, or so his parents believed. They took him into the city slums and left him to die."

Elise gasped.

Sterling nodded. "A poor hag found him crying at her doorstep and took him in. She was a witch, some said, dealing in potions and magic. She raised him as best she could, but she was old even when he was born. Once she died, the townspeople burned her shop. Philip was left with nothing, except a loud voice and a talent to juggle. He joined a troupe, saved his money, and formed his own traveling show."

"And the others?" Elise settled beside him.

"Philip found Iris and Nathan, they are the small couple, on display as freaks in a circus in Europe. He took pity on them and asked them to join his troupe. They tumble about and make people laugh. I suppose because being laughed at for acting silly is easier than being laughed at because they are different."

"Their daughter, Dawn, is lovely," Elise said.

Idly he plucked at the sleeve of his shirt. "Yes, and Nathan and Iris love her and try their best to do right by her. But Dawn is ashamed of them. It breaks Nathan's and Iris's hearts to have their own flesh and blood turn away from them in shame."

Elise swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "Doesn't Dawn realize how lucky she is to have parents at all? And ones who love her so?"

His silver gaze met hers. "Few realize their blessings until they have them taken away."

She wasn't certain if he referred to the loss of both of their parents or if he meant that she would soon regret her decision to run away from her uncle and a marriage not of her choosing.

"What about the man with the... ah-"

"Hump," Sterling provided. "Taylor. Kindhearted to animals, which don't see his deformity, or don't care about it as long as he takes proper care of them. He's the only one besides myself the cats will allow close to them."

"The cats?"

"Leena and Raja. I will introduce you to them."

A shudder raced through her. "No introduction necessary."