In a world filled with strange incense, and with snow falling in the garden beyond, Simijin taught Jillianna the meaning of love. His lovemaking was gentle and tempered with patience. He introduced her to feelings she had never dreamed existed, and she fell more in love with him.
After their passions had cooled, Simijin still held her in his arms. When she would have voiced her feelings, he placed his finger over her lips. “No, do not say what you are feeling tonight. I have taken advantage of your innocence, and you may not know your true feelings. Tomorrow we shall talk.”
She was hurt that he did not want to hear her confession of love. But when he pulled her into his arms, she sighed contentedly, loving the feel of his chest rising and falling against her breasts.
Long after he had fallen asleep, she lay there in the half-light from a single candle, studying his face. She loved him so desperately that the thought of him loving another woman was unbearable. How would she be able to share him with the women of his harem, she wondered frantically? Pushing her troubled thoughts aside, she decided she would have to take what happiness she could, and not expect too much.
Suddenly she sat up in bed, as motherly instinct pushed every other thought from her mind. She had insisted on nursing her baby herself, refusing the wet nurse that had been sent to her. Instinctively she knew it was the baby’s feeding time.
“Why are you frowning, dear love?” Simijin asked, rousing up and turning her to face him.
“My daughter will be hungry.”
“Ah, I had not thought about that.” He stood up and pulled on a flowing silk robe. “I will return shortly,” he told her, moving out of the room.
The guards in the hall were shocked to see their master venture out into the snow, making his way across the garden to the English Rose’s quarters. They were further shocked when he returned a short time later carrying Jillianna’s infant daughter in his arms.
When Simijin entered his bedchamber, he laid the baby in Jillianna’s arms, and she gave him a grateful smile. He watched with his heart in his eyes as the tiny rosebud mouth suckled at Jillianna’s full breasts.
Suddenly Simijin felt love for this daughter of the woman he loved. She would be his daughter as well.
He touched the soft golden hair that covered the child’s head, wishing that she was of his body. “Have you named the child?” he asked.
“I call her Brittany, after my beloved England.”
“It is a good name.”
“Simijin?”
It was the first time she had called him by his name, and he liked the sound of it. “Yes, beloved?”
“How can I thank you for all you have done for me and my daughter?”
“Will you allow me to feel a part of this child’s life? My great sadness has always been that I have never had children of my own flesh. Will you allow me to feel that this child belongs to me?”
“Oh, yes, Simijin. You are such a gentle, loving man, and I believe she will grow up to love you as a father.”
His eyes darkened as he looked at Jillianna. “I want to believe that. I shall become her guardian, if not her father. I shall engage only the best tutors for her. She will be well educated, and she will want for nothing.”
Tears brightened Jillianna’s eyes. “I love you,” she admitted, laying her head over on his shoulder.
He closed his eyes, grateful that at last he had won the heart of the beautiful English Rose. “Will you consent to becoming my wife?” he asked, tensely watching her expression. He, who had been with many women, knew that his future happiness rested with this one alone.
She looked up at him, overwhelmed by the honor he paid her. “I belong to you, and you have no need to ask my permission about anything, and you do not have to marry me…”
“I want you to be mine without reservation. I want you to desire me as much as I desire you. I believe you did tonight, but will you love me when the sun is high in the sky?”
She laid her sleeping baby down and threw her arms about his neck. “Oh, Simijin, I shall always love you. I will be honored to be your wife.”
“Jillianna,” he said, pulling her tightly against him. “With you I have found true happiness. I will see that you never know one day of sadness.”
Jillianna glanced down at her sleeping daughter, wondering what the child’s life would be like. She was determined that her daughter would not be affected by growing up in the shadows of a harem. She wanted Brittany to always know who she was, and that she was loved.
Simijin must have read her thoughts. He gently touched the cheek of the sleeping child. “Because you love her, I shall love her also. She will be the daughter of my heart.”
Part Two
Daughter of the English Rose
Chapter Five
1807
“Brittany, where are you, girl? Come out of hiding at once!” Mrs. Potter called out in an irritated voice. “You are much too old to be playing such childish pranks. If you don’t come here now, I will report your behavior to Lord Simijin.”
The mischievous beauty raked her golden hair out of her face and sank lower behind the box hedge just as the stern-faced, chubby little woman came charging past her hiding place. Brittany was not intimidated by her governess’s threat to go to Lord Simijin. For he was never cross with Brittany, and was more inclined to indulge her than punish her.
Mrs. Potter also knew that Lord Simijin would never deny Brittany anything, and he would certainly not take the governess’s side against the stepdaughter he adored.
At seventeen, Brittany considered herself too old for a governess who persisted in curtailing her movements. But she admitted to herself that poor Mrs. Potter did not have an easy time trying to make a proper lady of her.
As the governess moved on down the path and out of sight, Brittany stood up, happy that she had once more escaped the woman. She was weary of the strict discipline that had been laid down for her; she was young and longed for adventure.
All of her young life, Brittany had lived behind the high walls of Simijin’s palace, and she longed to walk free as her mother had in her girlhood in England.
As often as possible, Brittany would sneak away to the harem, although it was forbidden to her because her mother disapproved of the women there. But Brittany had formed friendships with the seven concubines who remained in Simijin’s harem. There was Adrianna, from Russia; Milo, the Egyptian; Asha, from India; Juanita, the Spaniard; and three others who were born in Turkey. If only her mother would understand that the women of the harem had befriended her and she had learned so many fascinating and interesting things from them.
Most of all, Brittany liked the kindly eunuch, Achmed, who always managed to turn a blind eye when she wanted to enter the women’s pavilion. He was her friend, and she knew he would never inform her mother of her visits to the harem.
Achmed had told her that Lord Simijin had once been master to over one hundred concubines, but that since he had taken the English Rose as his wife, he no longer frequented his harem. Most of the concubines had been allowed to leave to seek husbands, taking with them large dowries, while the ones who chose to remain had stayed with the knowledge that Lord Simijin would no longer seek them out. Twenty had remained, but only seven were still alive today, and they were no longer young.
Since Simijin had never fathered children of his own, Brittany was the only child who had grown up in the shadows of the palace walls, and the women had adored and indulged her on those times she had secretly made her way to their quarters.
It was in the harem where Brittany had learned to dance exotic dances. She had also been instructed in several different languages. She had even been trained in the ways to please a man. She was well versed in the art of love, and Brittany found it all intriguing, but she doubted she would ever put it into practice. After all, the only men she knew were Simijin and the eunuchs!
With deliberate steps, she raced past the purple cloud of hanging wisteria on her way toward the forbidde
n harem.
When she approached the tall double doors, they swung inward as if by magic, to offer her admittance. Achmed stood with arms folded over his broad black chest, his dark eyes challenging, yet shining with hidden mirth.
“Who dares seek entrance to Lord Simijin’s harem?”
“Hide me, Achmed,” Brittany said frantically. “Mrs. Potter is searching for me.”
Suddenly Achmed smiled at the lovely vision, who looked strangely out of place, dressed in the French-style, high-waisted gown, rather than in garments like the harem women wore. Her golden hair made a halo around her face, her green eyes danced with impishness, and her rosy cheeks proclaimed her good health.
He stepped aside with an exaggerated bow, allowing her to enter. “So, little mistress, again you have escaped the sour persimmon who is your governess.”
“Poor Mrs. Potter, I fear I am a real trial to her, Achmed. She deserves much better than she gets from me.”
The eunuch winked. “Let us hope she gets all that she deserves…in England or some other remote corner of the world, hmm, little mistress?”
Brittany frowned. “Mama will never send Mrs. Potter away, Achmed. She hopes the poor woman will be able to teach me to be a lady—but I have my doubts.” She sighed. “Hers is a thankless task.”
The black man chuckled at the charming little imp. The little beauty was a favorite with everyone with her winsome ways and her compassionate nature, and he was always glad when she could escape the dour governess to pay the harem a visit.
“You should hurry along, little mistress. Already the women have started dancing.”
Brittany heard the music coming from the garden room, and she rushed in that direction. When she approached the pavilion, several of the women rushed forward to greet her.
Brittany was soon dressed in a transparent dancing costume with golden bells on her wrists and ankles that made a tinkling sound with each step she took. While the music played, she joined the other dancers, feeling a prickle of remorse because her mother would disapprove of both her dancing and the revealing costume she wore.
But, as the tempo of the music built up, she soon forgot everything but her dancing feet. Her fingers snapped, and her hips swayed to the rhythm of the music. The other dancers paused to watch her perform. Though she did not know it, her movements were seductive and enticing, for she had learned well from the dancers of the harem.
The women laughed and clapped their hands. The little English miss had a great talent; the shame was that she would never be allowed to use it. Brittany was apart from the harem, and it was rumored that she would soon be sent to England to complete her education.
Brittany whirled, her flimsy costume making a wide circle about her body, her feet moving faster and faster as the music intensified. With a final whirl, she dipped to the floor in a wide curtsy while the women murmured their approval.
A stern voice cut through the merriment. “Brittany, come with me at once!”
Brittany glanced up to see Mrs. Potter glaring at her, hands on hips and eyes snapping with anger.
“I said come with me at once! This time you have gone too far, and your mother will hear of your doings. You are a hellion, and it is useless to try and instruct you in gentility. Wait until your mother sees you dressed in such a disgusting manner. Then she will do something about you, miss.”
Brittany received many sympathetic glances from the women as she scooped up her gown and meekly followed the governess, not daring to take the time to change her clothing. For the first time, Brittany felt ashamed of her actions, knowing her mother would be disappointed in her. She wanted to be a dutiful daughter, but she always managed to do the wrong thing.
As she left the harem, Achmed cast Brittany a sorrowful glance before stepping aside to let them pass. He said, in Turkish, so Mrs. Potter would not understand, “The old dragon found me away from the door and crept inside. I blame myself for your sorrow, little mistress.”
“It is not your fault,” Brittany assured him in the same language.
“Stop speaking that heathen language,” Mrs. Potter snapped as she gripped Brittany’s wrist and pulled her across the garden to the palace. To Mrs. Potter, any language that was not Enlgish was heathen.
The governess’s mouth was set in a severe line of disapproval. As they approached her mother’s quarters, Brittany found herself wishing she had taken the time to change her clothing, for each time she took a step, the golden bells around her ankles jingled, reminding her of her transgression.
Jillianna was seated before the window where a brilliant light fell across the tapestry on which she was working. Hearing the door open, she glanced up to see Mrs. Potter storming toward her, with Brittany following forlornly.
Jillianna’s bow creased into a frown when she saw the reason for Mrs. Potter’s outrage. She did not have to be told that Brittany had been to the harem again.
“My lady, you cannot guess where I found your daughter.”
Noting Brittany’s dancing costume Jillianna nodded. “I can guess, Mrs. Potter.”
“This time I was forced to go into that vile place where the women were half naked, to bring your daughter out.”
Jillianna looked at Brittany in disbelief. “Is this true, Brittany?”
The young girl could not meet her mother’s eyes. “Yes, Mama.”
Jillianna stood up and walked to her daughter. “Have you not been forbidden to enter the harem, Brittany?”
Brittany raised her head to look into green eyes not unlike her own. “Yes, Mama.”
Mrs. Potter puffed up her bosom and gave the young girl a disapproving look. “I find it impossible to control your daughter, Lady Jillianna; therefore, I am forced to leave your service and seek employment elsewhere. Your daughter is a hellion and will never be a proper young lady.”
Jillianna’s lovely face paled, and she pulled Brittany away from the hateful woman. “You will not speak of my daughter in those terms, Mrs. Potter. Kindly remove yourself from my presence at once. Consider yourself dismissed!”
Mrs. Potter’s eyes narrowed with spite. “I am going, and gladly. But if you want my opinion, your daughter will never be any better than those women in the harem.”
Jillianna raised her head and said in a commanding voice, “You will gather your belongings and leave the palace at once.”
“Most gladly,” the governess stated. She turned on her heels and left in a huff, her head held high, and her shoes clicking on the marble floor.
Brittany was sorry that her actions had hurt her mother, but she was not sorry that horrid woman was gone from her life forever.
“Mama, I suppose Mrs. Potter spoke the truth when she said I will never be a lady. I try to be like you, but I always do the wrong thing. I am impossible.”
Jillianna saw much of herself in her daughter, and it wrenched at her heart. When she had been Brittany’s age, she, too, had always been in trouble. “Dearest one, you are just adventuresome and easily bored. You are already a young lady. It’s not your fault that you do not fit into your life here. I know that you have found friendships in the harem, but you must resist going there. Will you give me your word that you will not go there again?”
To give up her friends would be painful indeed, but she would do this for her mother. “Yes, Mama, I promise. I will never go there again.”
Jillianna’s heart broke for her daughter. Already Brittany was a beauty. Her golden hair enhanced her creamy skin. Her eyes were jade-green and fringed with long golden lashes which were black at the tips. Jillianna saw through the thin costume that Brittany’s body was softly curved and mature. She had not realized that her daughter had grown into a woman. She shuddered, thinking what Brittany’s life would be like if she remained in Constantinople.
Jillianna realized that the time had come to make a decision about Brittany’s future. She must be sent to London as soon as it could be arranged, even though it would not be easy to let her go when the time came. But it was
time that Brittany learned about her own heritage. Jillianna would write a letter to her brother this very evening asking him to take Brittany into his household.
“Are you very disappointed in me, Mama?”
Jillianna drew Brittany into her arms. “None of this is your fault, my love. It is very difficult for you to live on the edge of two worlds. Here in the palace you are taught as any proper young English girl would be taught. But when you slip behind the harem walls, you walk into a world apart. I have forbidden you to go there, thinking to spare you the unsettling reality of those poor women and the useless lives they lead, but I have failed.”
“You have not failed, Mama. Most of the women are my friends. They have taught me many wonderful things. If you knew them, you would know their worthiness.”
Her mother arched her brow. “Many things you have learned from them would be better left unlearned. That kind of an education will not help you in England, Brittany.”
“They have taught me to speak many languages, Mama. I can read and write in at least eleven languages.”
Jillianna smiled. “Yes, there is always that.” Her eyes ran over the scanty costume Brittany was wearing. “You had better change before dinner. Simijin will be wanting to see you. We have to discuss your future.”
Brittany’s eyes were bright with tears. “Do not send me away from you, Mama. I could not bear it. I promise I will never disobey you again. If it will make you happy, I will go to Mrs. Potter and apologize.”
“Oh, my love, do not torture yourself so. If only…if only you could have grown up in different surroundings.”
“But many young girls grow up in harems, Mama. Why should I be any different?”
“You are different, Brittany. I am English, and your father was American. Don’t you see that you do not belong here?”
“I think of Simijin as my father.”
Jillianna rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “When the time comes for you to marry, I want you to have an English husband. You don’t even know how to behave around a young man, and you never will learn here.”
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