Louise Allen – Regency High Society Vol 2: Sparhawk's Lady / The Earl's Intended Wife / Lord Calthorpe's Promise / The Society Catch (страница 45)
She leaned outward, looking to the fortress at the southern corner of the city’s wall. As a warning, Hamil had pointed it out to her as the prison for infidels. If Frederick still lived, if Jeremiah’s friend David Kerr were still a captive, then they would both be kept there. Whenever she thought of Frederick, he was always in one of the comfortable, elegant rooms at Blackstone House, and she could not imagine him surviving two years in that bleak, windowless fortress. Perhaps all the warnings from others had been right. Perhaps he was already long beyond her help, and this entire disastrous voyage had been nothing more than a pointless chase to rescue a dead man.
She looked to the harbor for the xebec, Jeremiah’s prison. She had done that to him, just as she’d been the cause of Frederick’s capture, and overwhelmed by the odds against the men she loved, her eyes filled with tears.
Yet tears would solve nothing, help no one, and she forced herself to try to think instead. Three men, three prisoners. She, too, was a prisoner, but one bound only by threats, not shackles. If any of them were ever to return to a Christian world, it was up to her to find a way. Neither Frederick nor Jeremiah would like having their fates decided by a woman, but she had no choice. There was, quite simply, no one else.
Jeremiah had promised her everything would be all right, and Jeremiah would never lie to her. He loved her too much. Somehow they would be reunited. Of course everything would be all right.
Somehow…
Caro closed her eyes as Abidzu drew the comb through her wet hair to help dry it. She had been bathed in perfumed water by Abidzu, all the salt from the sea scrubbed away, and in place of the rough clothing of the Neapolitan serving girl, she now wore a loose robe of blue striped silk banded with gold braid.
Yet instead of relaxing her, Abidzu’s attentions had only reminded Caro of what Hamil would expect from her in return. No matter what he’d said, she couldn’t believe that all of his guests were treated so indulgently, and as Abidzu finished braiding her hair, her apprehension grew.
This could be her first step toward freedom, the first time she must depend on her own resources to defend herself. Though Hamil’s men had taken the pistol Jeremiah had given her, there was sure to be a knife at dinner that she could hide away in her skirts for later, when she might need it. Her fingers tightened on the carved arms of the chair as she remembered the hungry way Hamil had looked at her on the xebec.
“Abidzu,” said a woman’s voice curtly in accented English. “Leave us at once.”
Caro’s eyes flew open, and she turned about in her chair as Abidzu hurried from the room, bowing low to the two beautiful young women who stood in the doorway. The taller one was nearly as fair as Caro herself, with dark eyes in startling contrast to her blond hair, and a full, ripe figure beneath a silk robe identical to the one Caro was wearing. The other had hair as black and shining as a raven’s wing, drawn up under a silver fillet to show the hoops she wore in her ears. She stood with her hands clasped over her belly, rounded with the first months of pregnancy, and watched Caro with shy, heavy-lidded eyes.
Her gaze intent on Caro, the blond woman lifted her hand to smooth back her hair, and a score of silver bangles clattered down her forearm. “Are you the English noblewoman that came this day with Hamil Al-Ameer?”
“Of course she is, Bella,” whispered the smaller woman, still loudly enough for Caro to hear. “Who else could she be? But look at her! What could Hamil be thinking of? She must be as old as my mother!”
Slowly Caro rose to her feet and walked around the chair to face them. She bit back a retort to the comment about her age. They were scarcely more than girls, and to them she probably did seem like an ancient old crone.
“I am the Countess of Byfield, yes,” she said. “Who are you?”
The smaller woman sighed wistfully. “Hamil didn’t tell you?”
“Hamil is a busy man, Leilah,” said Bella impatiently. “He can’t do everything.”
“But Bella—”
“Hush!” Visibly straightening her shoulders like a soldier before a battle, Bella looked back to Caro. “We are the wives of Hamil Al-Ameer,” she said, “and if you wish to become his concubine, you must now speak to us.”
“His
Leilah flushed and stared down at the floor, but Bella’s brown eyes met Caro’s without flinching. “It is not an interview, Countess of Byfield. If Hamil chooses to keep you, that is his decision.”
“Believe me,” said Caro dryly, “it will be as much my decision as Hamil’s. And please, call me, Caro. Your name is Bella?”
“Isabella, though Hamil prefers Bella. This is Leilah. And we must call you ‘my lady,’ for Hamil wishes it so.” She pursed her lips, determined not to be distracted. “We want you to know that only we wives and our children will be entitled to a full share of our husband’s goods when he dies. As a concubine, you and your children will only receive half a share.”
“Though you would naturally prefer not to divide the estate by even that extra half.” Caro sighed, thinking how whether in Portsmouth or Tripoli, she still seemed to be in the middle of such quarrels. “You needn’t worry at all, you know. I have no wish—none whatsoever—to become Hamil’s mistress.”
“None?” Bella narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Hamil is a man all women desire, my lady. He is strong and virile and very handsome.”
“And he has blessed us both with sons!” blurted Leilah, then at once stared back at the floor.
Caro’s glance fell to Leilah’s thickening waist. “You have other children? But you are scarcely more than children yourselves!”
Bella smiled knowingly. “I was thirteen when Hamil took me from my brother’s ship, and within the year he married me and gave me my first son, Allah be praised. Another son and a daughter have followed, and I am yet but eighteen. You cannot doubt how potent a man my husband is.”
“I most certainly would not,” said Caro hastily. She had been barely older than Bella when she’d wed Frederick, but she herself had been all the children Frederick wanted. By the time Bella reached her own age of twenty-nine, she could well be a grandmother. No wonder they thought she was so appallingly old! Yet in a way she envied them the same way as she’d envied Desire Herendon, and she thought wistfully of how much she’d give to bear Jeremiah’s child.
She smiled gently at the two young faces before her. “You love Hamil, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” answered Bella fervently, and at her side Leilah nodded in agreement. “We do. We love him, and he loves us, as it should be between husbands and wives.”
How simple Bella made it all sound! “Then you will understand that I would not wish to come between you.”
“No?” Bella remained skeptical. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because I, too, have a husband that I love very much, and there is no more room in my heart for another,” said Caro, painfully aware of how much more her words meant. Between Frederick and Jeremiah, her heart was overflowing. “My husband was captured by Hamil and is his prisoner. I came to Tripoli to find him, not to become Hamil’s mistress.”
Swiftly the two girls exchanged glances. “If your husband were returned to you,” asked Leilah carefully, “would you leave and swear never to return?”
“I would swear it now,” said Caro fervently.
Another look passed between Hamil’s wives, and slowly Leilah nodded.
“Leilah’s father is a special friend of the pasha’s,” explained Bella. “If you swear you will leave Tripoli with your husband, and if, until then, you hold true to what you profess and keep yourself from Hamil’s bed, then we shall pledge to help you.”
“I swear, by whatever you wish.” It would be the easiest promise to keep that Caro had ever made, and impulsively she kissed each girl on the cheek. “You will never have anything to fear from me.”
Both Bella and Leilah went still, stunned by such a sign of affection from the woman they’d feared as a rival, then suddenly began to giggle with relief like the young women they were.
“We thought you would be very grand, my lady,” confessed Bella, her serious role as mediator done. “Hamil is most proud of having captured you. A British noblewoman! He told us we must be respectful to you, and speak only English in your presence.”
Caro laughed, amused to hear that anyone would consider her grand and daunting. Certainly no one ever had before. “Your English is better than that of many people born in England itself.”
Bella’s cheeks pinked with pride. “That is Hamil’s doing. He wished his wives to speak his language, and he bought us a tutor, a slave, from your royal city of London, so we might learn only the best.”
“Poor Mr. Peck!” Leilah sighed sadly. “He was a good teacher, but he wasn’t very wise.”