Chapter Forty
“Are you feeling better now?”
Chantelle stopped Adamma from fussing with her pillows and motioned her to leave. Rahine sat on the other side of the bed. It was she who had made the inquiry.
“I’d hate to tell you what I really feel like, madame.”
Rahine smiled at the surly tone. “Much better, I’d say.”
Chantelle started to glower but didn’t want to waste the effort.
She felt like her insides had been wrung out to dry.
There was a horrible taste in her mouth, every bone seemed to ache, and she was as weak as a kitten.
But this was nothing compared with how she had felt earlier.
At least Rahine was speaking English for a change, so she didn’t have to tax herself by translating.
“Did you come here to pay your last respects?”
Rahine laughed outright. “Don’t be absurd, child. You’ll be as good as new in a few days.”
Chantelle closed her eyes against such good humor. No one should be cheerful while she felt so miserable, at least not in her presence.
“Am I to take it you’re glad I’m still among the living?”
“Very glad, Shahar. I don’t know what it is about you, but you have completely changed Jamil, and for that I thank you. It’s almost as if I have my son back.”
“I wasn’t aware you had lost him.”
“That’s a…long story, and nothing for you to be concerned with.”
That evasion should have aroused Chantelle’s curiosity, but she had other things on her mind. “Did I dream it, or was Jamil here?”
“He was here most of the afternoon.”
“But I thought he never enters the harem.”
“You will allow the circumstances are unusual, my dear. It’s the first time one of his women has ever been poisoned.”
So much for thinking he might care for her more than he did for any of his other women. “How did I get to be so lucky?”
“It’s doubtful we will ever know who wished you harm, but you needn’t fear it will happen again. Your food will come from my own kitchen from now on, and Haji Agha has assigned you two of his own bodyguards. You will never be left entirely alone.”
“Wonderful,” Chantelle said bitterly. “More the prisoner than ever.”
“You mustn’t look at it that way.”
“No? I should be grateful, I suppose, that someone wants me dead?”
She would never be able to escape now, but worse, she wasn’t sure she wanted to, not after last night. She didn’t want Rahine to know that, however, not after she had predicted just that happening. Chantelle didn’t have the temperament to hear a smug “I told you so.”
How had Jamil done it? How had he gotten around her anger and hurt and made her want him again? And so much! Dear Lord, they had made love all night long. After how close he had come to death, it was as if she couldn’t get enough of him. If anyone had been ready to beg for mercy, it was Jamil.
She should be utterly ashamed, but she wasn’t.
At some point during the night, she had forgiven him for Jamila, and he had assured her it wouldn’t happen again.
She would believe him because she wanted to, because she wanted him.
It couldn’t be any simpler than that. Like a silly twit in love, she had gone and become contented with her enslavement.
Was she in love? Good Lord, that would be a ridiculous thing to do.
Love a man who owned forty-eight women? Best not to delve too deeply into that.
Then Chantelle was reminded that during all those pleasant hours she had spent with him last night, she had never gotten around to asking him about the attempt on his life. Was it related to her own near brush with death?
“—don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I said you should be grateful you’re still alive. It was very close for a while today.”
Chantelle made a face. “I was there, remember?”
“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t make a very good patient?”
Chantelle finally smiled grudgingly. “Am I being especially trying, Rahine?”
“And impertinent.”
“No one else is around, madame.”
Rahine had to suppress her laughter this time. “You are incorrigible. Very well, you may call me Rahine—when no one else is around.”
“Then will you call me Chantelle—when no one else is around?”
“You are supposed to forget your previous life,” Rahine began but was quickly interrupted.
“Did you?”
“I—think you need your rest.”
“Not yet.” Chantelle sat up more against her pillows. “First tell me who that man was last night who tried to kill Jamil.”
“We’ll never know that.”
“Then you don’t know why he attacked him?”
Rahine stared at her for a moment in amazement. “Do you mean to say…but you must have heard something about Jamil’s troubles since you have been here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But I mentioned it to you myself, didn’t I, the night you drove him to recklessly leave the palace? I told you he had put his life in danger.”
“That’s all you told me. But I beg to differ that I drove him to leave the palace that night,” Chantelle added tightly. “I’m not responsible for his hot temper.”
“Whether you were or not is a moot point now. But he was set upon that night. It was inevitable, since they watch the palace constantly. By Allah’s grace, however, Jamil wasn’t harmed that time. Even without a weapon, he disarmed one assassin, and the other was too cowardly to face him alone.”
“Assassins? This sounds like a conspiracy,” Chantelle said in alarm.
“So it is, and it began nearly a half year ago with the first attempt on Jamil’s life.
There have been numerous attacks since then.
Twice now they have even gotten as far into the palace as his private apartment.
Whoever wants him dead seems to have an endless supply of fanatics willing to brave impossible odds to collect the promised reward. ”
“Then you don’t know who it is?”
Rahine shrugged. “Everything points to Selim, Jamil’s younger half brother, because he went into hiding about the time of the first attack and he still hasn’t been found.”
“Fratricide?” Chantelle frowned in distaste. “That’s—”
“Fairly common in the Turkish empire, my dear, where children are exposed early to the rivalries and petty jealousies of the harem. But as I said, everything points to Selim. That doesn’t mean that it couldn’t be someone else, although Selim is next in line to succeed Jamil.”
“But Jamil has sons,” Chantelle pointed out, though that subject wasn’t one of her favorites.
“True, but they are all much too young. This is not England, child. A brother who has reached manhood will nearly always be chosen over a son too young to rule. Of course, there have been extreme cases in which a mother has bought the support of the army to elevate her son, but that has never happened in Barikah.”
“Then Sheelah—”
“Never Sheelah!”
Chantelle frowned at the interruption and obvious support for Jamil’s first wife by his mother. But then her eyes widened.
“Noura has the second oldest son, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, but…that is ridiculous, Shahar—”
“Chantelle.”
Rahine pursed her lips. “Very well—Chantelle. Speculation of this sort is pointless. And besides, Jamil has yet another half brother under Selim. Do you realize how many would have to die before Noura could come to power through her son? It would be much too obvious, even if the other deaths could be made to appear accidental, especially if Jamil should die first.”
A chill passed over Chantelle, hearing it said so plainly. If Jamil should die…. She hadn’t known he was in such danger.
“I wish you hadn’t told me about this.”
Rahine shrugged. “You asked, child. But I really thought you knew about it already. Why do you think we were so intent on keeping you from angering Jamil? His temper has been abominable these past months due to the restrictions imposed on him by this threat.” Rahine leaned over to squeeze Chantelle’s hand.
“We have you to thank for taking his mind off it, even if you have done so in an unacceptable manner. ”
Chantelle knew very welt she was referring to her defiance, even up to last night. Did Rahine also know it had ended last night? Of course she did. She knew everything.
Cheeks heating with color, Chantelle was ready to change the subject. Rahine did it for her. “I really shouldn’t have stayed this long. You are to have complete bed rest for a week—”
“A week!”
Rahine couldn’t help smiling. “At the very least, several days without exception.”
“Jamil isn’t going to like that.”
“How so?”
Chantelle looked away in embarrassment before answering. “He promised me he wouldn’t summon anyone else.”
Rahine’s brow shot up because she knew Jamil was dining with Sheelah at this precise moment.
How could he possibly have made such a promise?
But to be fair, he hadn’t exactly broken it.
He hadn’t summoned Sheelah but had gone to her instead.
Had he thought no one would know of it just because he could reach his wives’ apartments without entering the main harem?
When Rahine said nothing, Chantelle glanced back at her. “Does he keep his promises, Rahine?”
“When at all possible, yes, of course he does.” What else could she say?