Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Adifferent Sahin Pasha than the sophisticate who had graced London’s ballrooms in the spring greeted Richard and Robert Liston. Clad in oriental splendor, he reclined on cushions in bright silken patterns surrounded by silk-clad servants.
“Welcome, Sir Robert. I see you bring my friend the marquess,” he said with no attempt to hide the amusement that crinkled his eyes.
The old reprobate! No amusement softened Richard’s bitterness. “Where’s Lily?” He demanded.
Sahin gestured to the seats near him. “Such manners, my lord! Come. Sit. Eat.”
Liston reclined on a divan to Sahin’s left. Richard remained standing. He looked around desperately.
“I sat on your uncomfortable English chairs all spring. Come, come. Sit in comfort.”
Liston shot Richard a pleading look. He sank down onto the seat to Sahin’s right.
“Where is Lily?” he repeated through clenched teeth.
At Sahin’s gesture, platters of dates and honeyed sweets appeared alongside a pot of steaming Turkish coffee. The ringed fingers of a servant poured the drink into tiny glasses and faded away.
Sahin and Liston drank. Richard took a sip and grimaced.
“You will adjust,” Sahin chuckled. “Eat some baklava, sweet to counteract the bitter.”
“Lily,” Richard prodded before taking a bite as directed. His eyes widened when the taste of honey exploded in his mouth.
“Such intensity! You should have protected her, My Lord Glenaire.”
“We had her under protection!” Richard snapped.
“Yet she came to me for assistance. Who can probe the mind of a woman?” Sahin mused.
“Is there a story here I should hear?” Liston asked.
Sahin gave him a succinct overview of Volkov’s threats.
“I’ve come from Thessaloniki. You dealt with your traitor ruthlessly—”
Sahin shrugged. “It is always so with traitors.”
“—putting John Thornton in danger, not to mention Lily herself.”
“You understand, Sir Robert, why I felt obliged to offer the woman protection when she sought employment in the Seraglio.”
Damned poor choice of words. Visions of Lily entertaining the old man made Richard sick. He set his tea down with a thump. “What do you mean by ‘protection,’ and what exactly is Lily’s ‘employment’ there?” he demanded.
“Your tone implies insult, my lord,” Sahin replied hotly, his benign facade slipping briefly to allow the hard core underneath full view.
In the flicker of an eye, the avuncular diplomat came back into focus.
“In spite of your western stereotypes about our domestic arrangements, she is perfectly safe. She shares the riches of her mind with the women of the Seraglio.”
“She’s a teacher?” Liston asked, obviously intrigued. Richard, for his part, simply gasped, incredulous.
“Exactly.” Sahin beamed. “By all accounts, an excellent one. My aunt, the Valide Sultan, is well pleased. She begins to have plans for Miss Thornton.”
“The Valide Sultan is a powerful figure, Glenaire,” Liston said. “The mother of the sultan, a woman of influence.”
“Alas the current sovereign’s mother is no longer with us. The position is held by his aunt, who by chance is also mine,” Sahin told them. “I assure you, Miss Thornton could not be in a safer place.”
“I demand to see her.”
“Demand? Such a harsh word. Where is the Marble Marquess’s famous sang-froid? His vaunted diplomacy so much in evidence last spring?”
Richard clamped his jaw shut.
“Can a meeting be arranged?” Liston asked.
“Do you expect me to believe you can’t arrange whatever you please?” Richard cut in. “I will see her at the British embassy.” I want her where I can protect her.
Sahin ignored Richard. He answered Liston.
“What we can arrange and what Miss Thornton may want may not be the same.” He turned to Richard, all pretense of friendliness gone.
“There are audience rooms attached to the outer walls of the Seraglio that may be safe. The streets of this city, alas, are not. Whether Miss Thornton wishes to risk either is up to her.”
“Are you telling me she won’t see me?” Richard rose halfway from his seat. Liston cautioned him back with pained looks and a subtle hand gesture.
“Speak with Miss Thornton,” Liston said smoothly. “Tell her that, while His Majesty’s government trusts that the Sublime Porte treats her with all due respect and provides ample protection, concern for her welfare demands that we speak to her ourselves.” He held Sahin Pasha’s eyes.
Richard held his breath. The two other men ignored him. Sahin Pasha broke the gaze first.
“As you wish, Sir Robert. I will ask Miss Thornton to indulge you in this.”
Richard felt his shoulders relax. He took a deep breath.
“Whether she wishes to see his lordship,” Sahin went on, indicating Richard with a shrug, “is for her to determine.” He looked over at Richard with stern disapproval.
Richard nodded in response.
In a flash, a sly look supplanted the disapproval. “Although such a meeting might prove entertaining at that.”
What the devil does that old man mean by that salvo? Richard didn’t care. We’ll see who’s amused after I talk with her.
Lily fretted in yet another anteroom. Word came that Sahin Pasha again requested an interview.
The Valide Sultan professed to know nothing.
This time, however, the woman left her as soon as they arrived in this anteroom.
Ahmet, stern beneath his turban, stood next to her. He spoke no words of encouragement.
She smiled up at him; his expression did not soften. His worried face does little for my peace of mind.
She had been called to a room on the outer walls this time, the sort she knew opened out into the public parts of the palace. She puzzled over the meaning of such a venue but ceased trying.
You’ve become immersed in palace politics, Lily. You try to parse the meaning of every little detail, looking for machinations that might not exist.
Lily glanced down ruefully at her enlarged belly. At just over six months, she had begun to feel unwieldy.
What do you think Sahin up to now, little one, hmm? He does not seem to leave us in peace.
The door whispered open, and a female slave bowed out. Lily entered an audience room, much like any other. The only obvious difference was that, this time, Sahin Pasha stood just inside waiting for her, blocking her view of the room. No obvious signs of ritual hospitality were in view.
He stepped forward and took both of her hands.
“You look well, little one. Your situation agrees with you.” He winked at her.
My “situation?” That’s one word for it.
“What is it, honored uncle? Word about my father?” she asked.
“I fear not, little one. Your government believes him safe with his studies in Copenhagen still.”
She studied his face. Something lurked behind his kindness. Sahin dropped one of her hands but held the other.
“Your government, regretfully, feels less certain about your well-being. They have made inquiries.”
Lily felt sick. Sahin, who blocked her view of the room, moved to her side, still holding one hand. Her heart soared and did a flip. Richard.
A vortex of thought and emotion surged through her. He came! Confusion followed elation. How? When? He’s thin. His hair is too long. He looks—
Blue eyes, wide with shock, stared back at her. Richard stood immobile, his face frozen in stunned disbelief.
She swung round to face Sahin. The old man’s lips twitched; sly amusement lit his eyes. You manipulative old man! You let me walk into this with no warning. Richard, too, from the look of it.
When she looked back, Richard had not moved. His eyes had lost the glaze of shock, however. What she saw instead shook her to her core.
Still as a statue, he gaped, grief and longing stark on his face.
“Richard, I—” He must hate me.
His eyes moved from her face to the swelling where her child—his child—grew.
He can’t take my baby, can he? Dear God, don’t let him take her.