Lost Love Found (46 page)

“You do not think Lord Burke and I should wait until next spring, Nelda?” Valentina teased.

“M’lady!” Nelda was outraged. “You will be widowed two years in July, and that is long enough! Poor Lord Burke has waited forever for you.”

Valentina laughed. “You sound just like your mother,” she said. Then, “You need not fear, Nelda. As soon as Mama and Aunt Skye learn of our impending nuptials, there will be a wedding at Pearroc Royal before any of us can say another word, as quickly as the family can be summoned. Mama will not let Padraic slip away, and I suspect she will be aided and abetted by Aunt Skye, who has long sought to see my Lord Burke wed.”

They were so involved in their chatter that they were surprised to find they had arrived at the Kira house. They were greeted by Simon Kira’s wife, Sarai. If Simon’s mother had still been alive, that honor would have been hers.

“Welcome, my lady Valentina. Esther has demanded to see you immediately. I hope that you are not too fatigued by your long journey.” Sarai Kira was a lovely woman with great dark eyes and dark hair that was discreetly covered by a veil. She had a perfect oval face, with smooth olive skin and a serene expression.

“Of course I want to see the lady Esther right away,” Valentina replied.

“Thank you for indulging her,” Sarai said softly. “She is not always easy, and she has been impatiently awaiting your return for several days now. I will leave you with her and escort your servant to your quarters.”

“It is so kind of you to have us,” Valentina replied.

“You do not mind staying in the ghetto?” Sarai asked.

“I did not really think about it,” Valentina said, “but now that you have brought it to my attention, no. Why would I?”

“We are Jews” was the answer.

“And I am a Christian,” Valentina noted.

Sarai smiled at her answer. “You are either very innocent, my lady Valentina, or very enlightened,” she said.

“I have been taught to accept people for their individual worth, my lady Sarai, and not for any other reason,” Valentina answered. “My aunt is fond of reminding those whose hearts are closed that the Lord Jesus was a Jew. There was no Christianity or Islam then, was there?”

“I wish all people were like your aunt and you, my lady Valentina. Then perhaps we Jews would not have to live in walled ghettos whose gates are locked each sunset and unlocked each dawn,” Sarai Kira responded quietly. “Ah, here we are at Esther’s apartments. Please enter, my lady Valentina.”

“So! You finally returned” was the greeting Valentina received from Esther Kira, who sat ensconced upon a pillow-bedecked couch, a gossamer-thin blue wool shawl wrapped about her legs.

“I have indeed returned, Esther Kira,” replied Valentina, going to the old lady and kissing her cheek. “You are well?”

“As well as an ancient crone can be, dear child, but do not keep me in suspense any longer! Tell me what happened in Kaffa. I am quivering with excitement.”

“Prince Javid Khan is not my father,” began Valentina, then she went on to explain about their trek to the encampment of the Geray Tatars, her meeting with Borte Khatun, her kidnapping by Temur Khan, and the astonishing survival all those years of the crippled Javid Khan.

“Amazing! Amazing!” Esther Kira cried, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Prince Javid Khan’s escape is every bit as miraculous as your mother’s! Fate meant them to live out their lives, but not together. And you are certain that Temur Khan is dead? He has escaped so many times before.”

“He is dead. His head was taken and put on a pike for public display. He is dead without a doubt, and Javid Khan was able to be united again within his family and among his people. Although Devlet Khan is a good military leader, it is Javid Khan who administers,” Valentina finished telling all she knew.

“Yes,” Esther Kira replied. “He was always an intelligent man.” Then she asked. “Will you tell your mother of his survival?”

Valentina shook her head. “He would not have her know, for he says that no good will come of stirring her old memories. I will respect his opinion and do as he says.”

“He is as wise as he always was,” Esther Kira noted. “Your mother loved him in spite of herself and grieved greatly over his death. Sultan Murad’s treatment of her was barbaric, and your mother’s mind, made fragile by all that had happened to her, snapped. Javid Khan is right. The knowledge you hold could hurt your mother.”

“Tell me, Esther Kira, will the Sultan Valide see me?”

“Aye! She insisted that I inform her as soon as you arrived back in Istanbul, and a messenger has already been dispatched to the palace:”

“What was her reaction to our fabrication regarding how my mother escaped drowning?” Valentina wanted to know.

“She said that your mother was the only true friend she ever had and that she was pleased Allah had spared her life. She said that, obviously, it had been your mother’s Kismet, her fate, to return to her home and her English husband.”

“Did you explain to her why I really needed to see her?”

“No, child. That must be your responsibility,” Esther Kira said.

Valentina nodded. “I know it.”

“You look happier, child, than you looked when you were here last,” Esther Kira observed. “My old eyes are not so weakened that they cannot tell a woman in love.”

“I am in love!” Valentina said happily. “I will marry my cousin, Lord Burke, when we return to England. That is why I am so anxious to conclude this business.”

“And the question that brought you here is still important to you?”

“Aye, Esther Kira, it is. Javid Khan is not my father, of that there is no doubt. But until I learn whether Sultan Murad was, I cannot rest,” Valentina said.

“Then so be it, child,” replied Esther Kira. “If it is meant for you to know, then you will know.”

Her initial interview with the elderly matriarch concluded, Valentina was shown to her rooms in the women’s quarters. She found Nelda practically dancing with excitement.

“Oh, m’lady! Have you ever seen such a beautiful view as this?” she cried, dragging Valentina by the hand to the tall, lead-paned windows that stretched across almost an entire wall of the room.

Valentina gasped. The Kira house sat atop the highest point in Balata, at the peak of one of Istanbul’s hills. Beyond Valentina’s windows lay a small garden filled with flowering almond trees and carefully plotted beds of tulips. There was a tiled fountain in the middle of the garden that bubbled crystal-clear water. At the far end of the garden, the land tumbled away down a steep cliff side. Below lay the harbor of the Golden Horn, and across it, the twin towns of Pera and Galata, where many of the Christian community lived.

“Nelda, it is beautiful!” Valentina said.

“If I couldn’t live in England,” said Nelda, “I wouldn’t mind waking up to that view every morning! But come, m’lady, and see the rest of this apartment. ’Tis most luxurious.”

Valentina looked about the little salon. The walls were paneled in a warm fruitwood, polished to a soft glow. The moldings were decorated with gold leaf and also with a narrow design of red, blue, and gold in a floral pattern that extended from the paneled ceilings nearly to the floors. The floors were of dark planks of wood. Two silk tapestries with a design of fruits and flowers were hung from the ceiling molding on opposite walls. In a corner of the room was a tiled fireplace with a conical copper hood, and in the room’s center was a small marble fountain of perfumed water.

There were several area rugs of thick wool woven in deep blue-and-red designs. The furniture consisted of a red silk divan, piled high with multicolored silk pillows, several tables of ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl and brass and polished to a bright golden hue, and brass lamps set with ruby glass.

Within the smaller bedchamber was a large bed hung with red silk draperies that fluttered in the breeze. The open windows offered the same breathtaking view as the salon. There were chests bound in brass and leather, filled with all manner of exotic clothing.

“To whom does all of this belong?” Valentina wondered aloud.

“ ’Tis for you, m’lady,” Nelda replied. “The lady Sarai showed it to me when she brought me here. She says the old woman thought you might enjoy wearing the clothing of the land while you are here. These garments will allow you to go out into the city—properly escorted, of course. There are even garments for me! Oh! The lady Sarai said that the baths are just down the corridor, at the end, and that a bath attendant is always there.”

“Where are the gentlemen?” Valentina asked.

“They are in the men’s quarters on the other side of the house, the lady Sarai told me. Seems very tunny to me, m’lady, but that seems to be the custom here.”

Valentina laughed. “I agree with you, Nelda,” she said, “but if that is the way here, we will accept it for the short time we are in Istanbul. Now, I should like a bath, and you must have one, too. Let us go and find the bathing chamber.”

At the end of the hall a smiling servant opened the double doors that led into the marble-walled baths. The two young women were greeted by cheerful, scantily clad servants who helped them disrobe, much to Nelda’s embarrassment.

“They don’t mean to take off all my clothes, m’lady, do they?”

“Aye, Nelda, they do. You cannot be bathed properly unless you remove your clothes,” her mistress replied.

“But I ain’t never been all naked!” Nelda wailed. “We bathe in our shifts at home! Oh, I know you don’t, m’lady, but in our house we’re more modest-like.”

“You cannot wash in a shift,” Valentina said sternly. “Besides, it is the custom here to bathe naked, and have we not agreed to follow the local customs, Nelda?”

Nelda cast her mistress an unhappy look, but she allowed the Kira bath attendants to remove the last of her clothing. Unfortunately, one of the household servants, a young girl, took one look at the triangle of light brown curls at the junction of Nelda’s tightly shut thighs and, pointing, giggled. Nelda flushed bright red and sought to cover herself with her hand.

“Why does your servant have hair on her Venus mont?” another of the bath servants asked Valentina. “You do not.”

“In my land,” Valentina explained politely, “only ladies of rank and wealth pluck the hair from their monts. Most women do not.”

The servant nodded. “Your customs are very strange, m’lady,” she said, and Valentina was hard-pressed not to giggle at the woman’s words, which she then translated to Nelda, whose Turkish was not very good.

Nelda’s embarrassment turned to outrage. “English customs, strange?” she said. “Well, I never, m’lady! Taking a bath naked in front of a lot of other people, now that’s what I call strange!”

Valentina’s laughter rippled through the bath. “Your mum will never believe it, I know!” she said, forestalling Nelda’s certain next words.

They were sluiced with warm water and the dirt scraped carefully from their skins before they were rinsed. The two women stood in large, separate marble basins that were attached to the marble floors. Each basin was fitted with a gold drain. The bath attendants began to wash them with a floral-scented, soft soap, rubbing them all over with cloths and sea sponges until they were a mass of suds. Another warm rinse followed.

“Please go through into the bath now and join the others,” said the head bath attendant.

“I thought we was in the bath,” Nelda said when her mistress explained.

“This outer room is where we are washed and made clean so that we may then go into the bathing pool to soak.”

Nelda shook her head. “Well, I never!”

Valentina smiled. She decided not to tell Nelda that the bath attendants had offered to denude her of her body hair. Valentina’s firm assurances that Nelda would be considered odd by her own kind had satisfied them. They entered the main portion of the bath and Nelda was faced with another shock, for the room was filled with women and children.

“Come join us!” Sarai called to Valentina. “The other ladies are most anxious to meet you.” She waved Valentina into the pool.

“Lord bless me!” muttered Nelda. “All this nakedness is surely a sinful thing!”

Valentina fixed her servant with a stern glance, then stepped down into the warm, scented water to mingle with the others. Nelda, afraid of water, stayed put in a corner of the bathing pool. Valentina moved over to Sarai Kira and a group of women.

“It is the custom for our families here to live together, lady Valentina,” offered Sarai. “In the early days of this family’s success, the sons left Istanbul to spread themselves throughout Europe so that we might do business with as many countries as possible. Only Esther’s eldest son, Solomon, stayed in Istanbul. His sons, excepting my Simon’s father, Eli, also departed for distant places in order that the family might command even greater influence. In my husband’s generation, the sons of the family have all remained here in Istanbul doing business together, for our family is now well established in the West. We all live here in this house with our children.

“I wish to introduce you to the wives of my husband’s brothers. This is Ruth, the wife of Asher; Shohannah, the wife of Cain; Haghar, the wife of David; and Sabra, the wife of Lev.”

The group exchanged greetings. Valentina was fascinated by this bevy of lovely young women. She soon learned that Sarai was two years her senior, whereas Ruth, who had light brown hair and amber eyes, was Valentina’s age. Shohannah was eighteen and had skin like a lily, which contrasted with her jet-black hair and black eyes. Haghar and Sabra, who were sisters, were auburn-haired girls of fifteen and fourteen whose blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Sabra had been married for only three months.

There were several small children in the baths. Sarai’s two eldest sons were considered too old, at eight and five, to join the women in their bath, as was Ruth’s seven-year-old son. But Sarai’s daughter, who was three, and Ruth’s daughters, who were five, three, and fifteen months, and Shohannah’s twin sons, who were two, played beneath the watchful eyes of several nursemaids while their mothers gossiped with their English guest.

“Do you have children?” Serai asked Valentina.