Lost Love Found (61 page)

The fathomless black eyes stared at her from an impassive face. He did not stand up.

“Disrobe,” he commanded finally in a high-pitched voice that was incongruous in so enormous a creature.

Valentina, used to these ways, peeled her clothing off gracefully, leaving only her jewelry to adorn her. She stared as boldly at Hammid as he was staring at her.

The faintest shadow of a smile passed over his face, and he said, “You are proud, Naksh. Overproud, I suspect. But women with your extraordinary beauty always are, particularly women from the West.” His eyes moved slowly over her, assessing her carefully. “Put your hands behind your head, Naksh,” he ordered. “Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!” he murmured as her round breasts with their delicate pink nipples jutted forward. “Only once before have I seen breasts to rival yours, Naksh. Turn now.”

Her body icy with anger, Valentina slowly pirouetted as Hammid made humming noises of approval. When she had completed a full turn, he said, “Come and kneel before me so that I may feel your skin. I am, as you can see, too large to rise without aid and I wanted our first meeting to be private, knowing that you would be uncomfortable in the presence of others.”

Valentina knelt before Hammid. “You are too kind, my lord Hammid,” she said acidly.

“Heh! Heh!” the grand eunuch cackled. “A sharp tongue. A quick mind. That is good! My lord has grown quite bored with the docile beauties of this harem. You will be a breath of cold, icy air in his summer garden.” As he talked, his hands performed a businesslike exploration of her body. “Excellent! Excellent!” he said. “Your skin is perfection, soft as satin and firm as a
young
peach. Turn,” he ordered, and when she obeyed, he ran his hands over her back. “Your posture is flawless,” he approved. Then his fingers, suddenly talonlike, pulled apart the two halves of her bottom. “Your portal of Sodom,” he asked her. “Has it ever been tampered with, Naksh?”

“What?” She forced herself not to shudder at this new and most unpleasant inspection.

“Did your husband ever put his cock into your bottom?” the grand eunuch said bluntly.

“
Never
! Are you mad?” she exclaimed. “What man would do such a thing?”

“It is a pleasure very much enjoyed by many men, particularly the men of our world.” He pushed his finger into Valentina to its first joint.

“
Don’t!
” she gasped, flinching, her face flaming.

He withdrew the offending finger immediately. “Good! You are a virgin there. I will give orders that you be prepared to receive our master in that fashion, for he enjoys such sport.”

“Never! I will never permit it!” Valentina said furiously.

“The choice, Naksh, is not yours to make. You will be primed slowly over the next few weeks to accept our lord in such a manner, whenever he desires it. I shall tell him you are being readied. Get up now and put on your garments! I will call a eunuch to take you to your apartments, for Shakir has not yet returned from the island.

“The vizier gave orders to have a beautiful bower prepared for you. Besides Shakir, you will have six slave girls to serve you. You are a most fortunate woman.”

“As fortunate as Incili, my lord Hammid?” she asked as she drew her clothing on again.

“What do you know of Incili?” he demanded.

“You would be wise to remember her, my lord Hammid,” Valentina said mockingly, then caught herself. She must not trumpet her intention!

The grand eunuch nodded assessingly at Valentina. “Be warned, Naksh,” he said. “It is rare that I err in my judgment of a woman, but when I make a mistake, I make it only once. You would be wise to remember that, my beauty.”

Valentina bit her lower lip to stifle the quick reply that rose to her lips.

Hammid smiled. “Good,” he said. “You know how to hold your tongue.” He reached out and struck a small brass gong with his heavy gold ring. Instantly a young eunuch appeared. “Escort the lady Naksh to her apartments, Yussef, and see that her maidens welcome her into our midst.”

Chapter 14

L
ateefa Sultan saw her husband’s latest concubine, an outrageously beautiful woman with silky dark hair and eyes like the finest amethysts. She saw her in the baths and immediately regretted her own slowly aging body, so unlike this exquisite girl’s. The young one had not yet faced the rigors of childbearing.

They had named her well.
Naksh, the Beautiful One
. Lateefa Sultan found herself uncomfortable with the proud Naksh and her very direct gaze. Naksh, who scorned all companionship, even that of Gülfem, Hazad, and Säh, who had spent the summer with her. Naksh, who barely tolerated her six fluttering handmaidens or the ambitious Shakir, her personal eunuch. Discomfitted though she was, Lateefa Sultan admired Naksh’s obvious strength of character.

Still, it was necessary to ascertain whether Naksh was indeed the Englishwoman, Lady Barrows. If Cica had been so foolish as to have kidnapped the sultan’s half-sister, the woman
must
be returned to her people before the vizier found himself in more difficulty than even he could have anticipated.

With that in mind, two afternoons after Naksh appeared in her husband’s palace, Lateefa Sultan strode across the crowded baths. The knots of gossiping and bathing women instantly gave way before her. She was the sultan’s cousin, an Ottoman princess, their master’s wife. She was also the mistress of the harem.

Suddenly, as if by chance, she stopped directly before the beauteous Naksh and her entourage. Shakir hissed frantically at Naksh as her slave girls prostrated themselves on the marble floor. Naksh bowed politely from the waist. Not having been properly introduced to the vizier’s wife, she did not speak.

“I am Lateefa Sultan,” the princess said. “You are Naksh, my husband’s new woman?”

“Yes, my lady.” The voice was elegant, cultivated.

“What is your nationality, Naksh?”

“I am English, my lady,” Valentina replied.

“Be careful,” came the sudden whisper—in English—from Lateefa Sultan’s mouth. “I … will help … you.”

As startled as she was, Valentina gave no indication of her surprise.

“What did the princess say?” squeaked Shakir as Lateefa Sultan moved away and left the baths.

“She was merely greeting me in my own tongue, toad,” Valentina said acidly. “I am flattered by her kindness. It is the first I have received since my kidnapping.” She stared after the princess in a suitably impressed fashion, which seemed to soothe Shakir’s fears.

Lateefa Sultan returned with her entourage to her lavishly furnished apartments. “The afternoon is particularly beautiful and I think I shall visit with my younger daughter and her new baby,” she announced. “See that my litter is ready.” The servants scurried to obey her.

In the courtyard she met her husband, who asked, “Where are you going, my dove?”

“It is such a fine day that I am off to visit with our daughter, Hale, and our new grandson,” she told him.

“Give them both my love,” Cicalazade Pasha replied, “and tell Hale that I am particularly pleased with her. Four sons in three years of marriage is no small feat. Were our sons’ wives as dutiful!”

“And what will you do this beautiful afternoon, my lord?” she asked him.

“I have not seen Naksh since I brought her to the palace. The sultan has had my entire attention these last few days. I know it is Friday, my dove, but do you mind?”

Friday was the day set aside by the Koran for a first wife’s time with her husband, but Lateefa and her husband had not been intimate in so many years. Indeed, the princess Lateefa Sultan found far more pleasure in her favorite slave girl than in her husband, who usually visited her bed on Friday nights merely to sleep away the excesses of his previous six nights.

“Of course not, my lord,” she answered him. “It pleases me to see you once again truly diverted by a woman. Of late, your harem has bored you.”

He took her hands and, raising them to his lips, kissed them. “You are the best wife any man could have, my dove,” he told her.

“No, Cica,” she said quietly, “it is I who am fortunate in having such a wonderful husband, one who has given me five fine children, who now give us grandchildren that I may go and visit on such a lovely autumn afternoon.” She laughed as he helped her into her litter.

She visited with Hale for two hours, admiring baby Ali and parceling out sweetmeats and small toys to his jealous older brothers, who were yet babies themselves. Mamud and Murad, the twins, were just slightly over two years old and Orkhan was a year. All were, praise Allah, sturdy and healthy, though she thought her daughter looked a bit drawn.

“No more babies for a while,” she cautioned her youngest child. “You are losing your looks. Ferhad will take another, prettier wife.”

“Let him,” Hale replied carelessly with her father’s bravado. “I shall still always be his first wife and the mother of his four eldest sons. I would welcome another woman so that I might have time for myself. Ferhad ruts on me like a boar.”

Lateefa Sultan shuddered delicately. “Remember that you are an Ottoman princess,” she said. “He must ask your permission to take another wife. Be careful, lest you find yourself facing a serious rival.”

“Any woman can be a rival, Mother, even some unimportant concubine. At least as his wife I have not only rank but legal means of protection,” Hale said.

“Is everything all right?” Lateefa asked worried.

“Gracious”—her daughter laughed—“yes. I am simply tired.”

Reassured, Lateefa Sultan left her daughter’s house and directed her litter bearers to return to her palace. Suddenly, as if on a whim, as they passed the street that led up the hill to the ghetto of Balata, the princess called to her bearers to stop.

“It is early yet,” she said thoughtfully. “I will visit Esther Kira.”

When Sarai Kira learned of the arrival, she hurried into the courtyard of the Kira house to greet the princess. Her surprise and pleasure were evident as she warmly welcomed their guest.

“Why did you not send a messenger with word of your coming, my princess?” Sarai said.

“I was visiting my daughter, Hale Sultan,” Lateefa said by way of explanation, “and as the afternoon was yet young, I decided to come see my old friend, Esther Kira. I hope I have not inconvenienced you, Sarai Kira.”

“No, no, madam, not at all. It is always an honor to have you enter our house. Come, I will take you to Esther, who will be delighted by your arrival, although I suspect she already knows of it. Esther knows everything first in this house,” she said with a laugh.

The princess’s bearers sat on their haunches in a shady part of the courtyard as their mistress disappeared into the Kira house. Betel nut was passed around, and they crouched, chewing contentedly. Lateefa Sultan was an easy woman to serve, and she had a kind heart.

Sarai Kira led the guest to the matriarch of the house and, having duties of her own, excused herself. The princess was settled comfortably, refreshments were passed around, and then, as was her custom, Esther Kira sent her servants away so that they might gossip in private. She was not long in coming to the point.

“You have news for me, my child?” Her dark eyes were curious.

“You were correct, Esther Kira. Cica does indeed have the Englishwoman in his possession,” the princess said quietly.

“Ah, he is bold, your husband!” Esther Kira replied, her black eyes glowing with admiration. Then she focused her attention on the princess. “You are absolutely certain?”

“I met her in the baths and asked her nationality. She told me she was English. She is very elegant, very cool in her manner, Esther Kira. You will remember that my cousin, Incili, taught me some English. My meeting with the Englishwoman, whom Cica calls Naksh, was but a moment, but I remembered enough English to say to Naksh, ‘Be careful, I will help you.’ Then I left with my attendants. But I heard the eunuch Shakir demand nervously to know what I had said. Naksh never turned a hair. She calmly informed the eunuch that I had merely greeted her in her own language, as though what I had said was meaningless.”

“Good! Good!” Esther Kira said approvingly. “She has not been broken, then, despite her bondage. I was afraid that after a summer of serving his desires she would be destroyed.”

“No, Esther! She is strong, even as my cousin Incili was strong. I see the same steel in her. Besides, the maidens who spent the summer on the island with her have told me that Cica chose not to possess her until she came willingly to him, and she would not! He broke his vow the day before he brought her to our palace, sending the others away and forcing Naksh to his will. But even that has not destroyed her pride.”

“Tomorrow,” the old woman suddenly declared as if she were speaking to herself.

“Tomorrow?” Lateefa Sultan asked, puzzled.

“She must be rescued tomorrow.”

“Esther Kira! Such a thing is impossible!” the princess cried.

“Nothing is impossible, my child, particularly if it has not been attempted. If one fails, one tries again,” the matriarch said firmly. “Lady Barrows has been in your husband’s palace for three days now, correct?” Her friend nodded. “The vizier feels safe now that she is in his home and her whereabouts are secure. Therefore, now is the time to strike, while all are unsuspecting.”