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limits? The moment Ramona was gone, Julian stood and offered his arm to Lara. “Shall we go?”
    Julian didn’t realize how weak he was until he started down the three steps leading to the ground. Without Lara’s support he couldn’t have made it.
    “Shall we stroll about the camp?” Lara asked.
    “That will do for a start.” This was going to be more difficult than he’d first anticipated, Julian decided as he concentrated on putting one foot before the other. Though his pain was not inconsiderable, he bore it stoically.
    “Lara, ’tis good to see your man up and around,” a young woman said in passing.
    “May your marriage bring you joy and many children,” another woman called out.
    Julian grit his teeth and said nothing. He glanced sideways at Lara. She returned his look with one edging on panic.
    “Show me where you found me,” Julian said.
    “ ’Tis too far,” Lara protested.
    “Show me,” he insisted. “If I grow tired, I’ll stop and rest.”
    “Very well. This way.”
    She turned him gently toward the firth.
    “Where is this place?” Julian asked. “ ’Tis beautiful here.”
    “We are camped near Dumfries, in Scotland. I was born in Scotland.”
    “A Scottish Gypsy,” Julian mused. “My brother makes his home in the Highlands. He’s married to the Macdonald laird.”
    “Really?” Lara said, observing him with interest. “Tell me about your family.”
    Julian’s jaw hardened. “I’ve already said more than I should have. How much further? I can smell the sea.”
    “We are nearly there. Do you wish to rest?”
    Though he leaned heavily on Lara’s arm, he wasn’t ready to stop yet. “No.”
    The gorse was thick and lush, slowing their progress, but Julian stumbled on. They were walking uphill now, and Julian paused to catch his breath. The vista was stunning. Mountains rose in the distance, and a wild profusion of heather covered the low hills surrounding them. The air smelled of sunshine and flowers, and the day was so clear he could see forever.
    Finally they reached the cliff overlooking the beach. The tide was low. Lara pointed out the strip of sand where she’d found him. The place where his life had nearly ended. He owed Lara more than he could ever repay. But marriage? They needed to talk. He found a flat rock and sat down, inviting her to join him.
    “You’ve exhausted your strength,” Lara scolded. “I knew it. Shall I call Rondo to carry you back?”
    “A short rest is all I need. Besides, it would be a good time for us to talk.”
    Lara winced, as if she knew what was coming and dreaded it.
    “Pietro said something puzzling,” Julian began. “I don’t know what to make of it.”
    Lara smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt, avoiding his gaze.
    “Is it true, Lara? Do your people consider us husband and wife? How did it happen? I don’t recall a wedding ceremony.”
    Lara gazed up at him through lowered lids. “Aye. We are married. ’Twas necessary to save your life. I’m sorry. I would never have said you were my husband if those men weren’t going to kill you.”
    “Saying we are married doesn’t make it so.”
    “It does if you’re Rom. I declared myself three times before witnesses, and you accepted. No formal ceremony is necessary as long as two people publicly announce their intentions to become husband and wife.”
    Julian stared at her. “I’m not Romany. You know I must leave soon. This so-called marriage is a sham.”
    “Drago, please reconsider. Your life is at stake. What if your enemies return? They will not be looking for a Gypsy man with a wife.”
    Julian did reconsider. He wasn’t a foolish man. Nor did he have a death wish. He had no intention of wedding a Gypsy wench, but he could perpetrate a hoax as well as the next man. Better, actually. He’d had plenty of practice in his line of work.
    “Hmmm, perhaps you’re right. I will pretend to be your husband for as long as I remain with your people.”
    “Pretense isn’t