She had been very angry with him for tricking her. And angry with herself for giving in so easily as they had lain on the bed together.When she had confronted him with the truth, she had expected him to laugh at her. To make some comment about how easy it had been to run rings about a silly gadji, very nearly tricking her out of her virtue. Or tell her that he meant to go to her father and announce, even after he had returned her safely, that he had taken her to wife and meant to ruin any further chances she might have to marry well.But instead, he had looked so sad. She was sure that he had spoken the truth when he’d said he would let her go. And it was clear that he did not wish to.It had taken a moment to collect herself, after he had left her, to try and understand what he had told her. He had said he was her husband. He had not used the word love. But that must be the reason for his confession, mustn’t it? If all he wanted was someone to bake his bread and sweep his wagon, there were Rom girls who could do better than she.
