Lady Emily's Exotic Journey

by Lillian Marek

  Penworth snatched the paper from him and tore it open. The distress on his face changed into amazement, and he sagged against the wall in relief. “She’s safe! Oliphant has her and she’s safe!” He looked around at the others joyfully before he returned to the note. “He wants to know if Emily is also safe—we must send news at once. He says he has taken Julia to his grandfather’s camp, and if Emily has returned safely, they will remain there until they are…married.” He blinked at that and paused to read it again. “Yes, that’s what it says. If all is well here, they will be married and will return the day after tomorrow.” He looked at his wife uncertainly.

  She looked as startled as he, but recovered more quickly. “Well, no one can say it is a complete surprise. It’s not a bad match for her, and they seem fond of each other. There will have to be another wedding of course. Getting married in an Arab camp is hardly suitable for an earl’s sister.”

  Emily gave a choked little laugh and collapsed against Lucien, who was too relieved to say anything. He just held her.

  Twenty-three

  Night had fallen by the time Lucien was able to escape the discussions in the courtyard. It had been something of a revelation. He had not been aware of how much the marquess—and his wife, as well—knew about the servants here and the ones who had accompanied them from Constantinople, to say nothing of Irmak and the Ottoman troopers.

  Perhaps he should not be surprised that his own efforts for Varennes, taken from afar with no personal involvement, should be viewed as inadequate. He had prided himself on being unlike his grandfather, but perhaps he had been measuring himself against the wrong yardstick.

  But before any of that had happened, there had been the excruciating hysteria on the part of Carnac when he learned that the fleet of rafts had been attacked and most, if not all, of the shipment was at the bottom of the river. He had come racing to the house to demand that Lord Penworth take action immediately to deal with this tragedy. The boatmen who had been slaughtered he dismissed with a shrug. It took a while before he could be made to understand that when Lord Penworth spoke of what needed to be done, he was talking about providing for the families of the men who had been killed or injured.

  “But we must send an expedition at once to recover the shipment,” Carnac protested. “The stone, it is soft and will be damaged by the water, by the currents.”

  Mélisande, who had trailed along behind her father, seemed to find this amusing. Emily had taken one look at the smile on her face and departed.

  Eventually, the Carnacs departed, dismissed rather forcefully, and followed by Lord Penworth’s look of scorn.

  “What ought we to do about them?” asked Lady Penworth, tilting her head.

  Her husband shook his head. “The temptation is to simply leave them here to rot, but Julia and Oliphant are entitled to have a say. And Emily as well.” He looked around and frowned when he did not see his daughter.

  “She went upstairs,” said Lady Penworth in a reassuring tone. “She is quite safe.”

  “Yes, well…” Lord Penworth rubbed the back of his neck and managed a smile. “That’s all right, then. Chambertin, I wondered if I might impose on you for a bit. Since Oliphant isn’t here, I find myself in need of a translator.”

  “Of course, sir. I will do my best.” What else could he say? His future father-in-law was not enthusiastic about his suit—he had heard himself described as a “frivolous ne’er-do-well”—so he needed to provide some evidence of his seriousness. He could hardly say, “Please excuse me. I wish to go make love to your daughter.”

  Afternoon stretched into evening as recent events were pieced together. Servants were thanked individually with words and with coins for their efforts. For his courageous attempt to help Julia, the little door boy was rewarded with a gold ring from Lord Penworth and a kiss from Lady Penworth.

  Lucien was then enlisted to draft an account of the numerous ways in which Irmak and his men had displayed courage and gallantry, though the final letters to the vizier and the sultan would have to wait for Oliphant to put them in proper form, to say nothing of the correct Ottoman Turkish of the court. Lucien had had enough difficulty translating the spoken Arabic of the servants for Lord Penworth—the written language of the Ottoman court was beyond him.

  They were seated in the office—Lord and Lady Penworth and Lucien—with both the door and shutters open. The breeze entering the room felt pleasantly cool, and the sound of the fountain underlined the quiet of the courtyard. Lucien blotted the final sheet of his notes and carefully closed the ink bottle and wiped the pens, hoping he would now be free to seek out Emily.

  Lord Penworth leaned back, rolling his shoulders with a slight groan.

  Lady Penworth, still sitting perfectly erect and managing to look neat and unwrinkled in the dress she had put on the day before when she set out in search of her daughter, tilted her head thoughtfully. “I believe we have done all that we can at present.”

  “Yes,” agreed her husband. He looked over at Lucien with an expression best described as rueful approval. “I must thank you, Chambertin. You have been a great help.”

  Lucien shrugged. “What I have done today is nothing. I still cannot comprehend how Mélisande could have behaved so, that she could have thought… I swear to you that I never gave her reason.”

  Lady Penworth held up her hand. “Do not try to understand. You are a personable young man, possibly the only one she has ever met. Given her situation, one can see how she would have woven you into her fantasies.”

  Lord Penworth straightened up abruptly. “My dear, you cannot mean to excuse…”

  “Not at all. Whoever said ‘To understand all is to forgive all’ was talking nonsense. I can understand a great many things I consider unforgivable. I was simply telling M. de Chambertin that he need not feel responsible for the girl’s behavior.”

  The use of the de with his name brought a flush to Lucien’s cheeks, and he began to apologize once more for misleading them, but she waved his words away.

  “At least no real harm was done by your deception,” she said. “But there does remain a problem. You have been staying with the Carnacs, and I cannot think that you will find it comfortable to return to their roof. I think you must stay here. You can send someone to fetch clean clothes for you, and we have more than sufficient rooms in the men’s quarters.”

  “Good heavens, I hadn’t even thought about that,” said Lord Penworth. “Of course you must stay here. It would be far too awkward for you.”

  “You are most kind, and I am most appreciative of your invitation.” Lucien gave a bow of gratitude to Lady Penworth, but gratitude tinged with frustration. It was indeed most kind of Lady Penworth—and most inconvenient. Under her parents’ roof, he would be required to behave with great circumspection. Were he living elsewhere—well, obviously not in the Carnacs’ house—ah, it would make no difference. Emily would never be permitted to visit him, and even if she could, no rooms he could rent would provide any real privacy.

  He was mad, that was all, quite mad. Mad with desire for Emily. All he could hope for was that her parents would agree to a wedding soon. Would a few days be possible?

  He set out in search of Emily.

  He found her on the roof, bathed in moonlight and looking impossibly ethereal. No, not ethereal. But bewitching. Against the inky sky, she was frosted with starlight, as enchanting as the moonbeams that caressed her. A magical creature, not an afreet but a genie, and he was under her spell.

  When he came up behind her, she turned into his arms as if she had been waiting for him, as if she belonged there. No, she was not ethereal. She was real, all softness and smelling of jasmine. He rested his cheek on her hair, a silky cushion, and breathed in the sweetness of her. She was dressed in all her skirts and petticoats again. The fabric was silky soft, but there were layers and layers of it. Even so, his hand running down her back, pressing her to him, remembered the shape of her body, the curve of her buttocks.

 
He pressed a kiss on her temple, then on her cheek, and she turned her face to welcome his kiss, drawing him into her sweetness. The kiss began tenderly, but then heat flamed between them and hunger called forth more hunger.

  His lips explored her cheeks, the sensitive spot behind her ear, the lovely line of her neck. She made little noises of pleasure while her fingers threaded through his hair to hold him close. The row of buttons running down the front of her bodice had started to part, and his hand slid into the lace-lined passage toward her breast only to find itself tangled in the ribbons of her chemise.

  That was enough to make him pause and recall him to his sense of duty. He lifted his head and straightened his back, holding her face against his chest as he tried to ease his breathing. Her heart beat against him as rapidly as his own. “Forgive me,” he said hoarsely. “I want you so, I have been longing for you, but I must not…not here in your parents’ house.”

  For a moment, the only sound was the sound of their breathing, then she sighed. “That is one of those masculine rules, is it not?”

  He choked on a laugh. “Yes, I suppose it is. And I fear it is a rule that your papa would consider of the highest importance. Since I wish to persuade him to agree to our marriage, and to agree that it must take place as soon as possible, it would be a great foolishness to anger him.”

  “Not Papa. Mama.”

  “Mama?”

  “Yes. The great foolishness would be in angering Mama. She would probably like to arrange a grand wedding in London, and it could take a year for her to arrange that to her satisfaction. If we wish to marry soon—and I wish that too—we must persuade her to agree.”

  Lucien looked dubious. “I do not think she dislikes me, but I do not know how to persuade her.”

  “Of course not. That is my task. She will wish to make her approval uncertain to begin with, because she doesn’t think we appreciate things we get too easily, but I understand her.” She smiled ruefully. “And she understands me.”

  “I think perhaps your maman frightens me even more than your papa. They are a formidable pair, those two.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “But yes. You do not see it perhaps because you have always known them. Your father is a most powerful man.”

  “Well, I suppose he is. After all, he is a marquess.”

  Lucien shook his head. “That is not what I mean. It is part of it, perhaps. His title, his position—they set him above many. But it is more than that. For example, it is his word that will determine whether or not there is to be a railroad here, is it not? That is not because he is a marquess but because he is respected and trusted by those who sent him. They know that he will give them an honest answer, not colored by his own self-interest. And then, when we were in Constantinople, I could see that the sultan was pleased by his visit. His name was known. And even those who would not know his name—Irmak is pleased to serve him because he considers you father a man of honor.”

  “Goodness, you make him sound quite dreadfully pompous.” She was half laughing, half puzzled.

  Lucien stared down at the floor with a frown. “I am not sure how to make it so that you understand.” He looked up and faced her. “My grandfather is also a nobleman. He insists on every gesture, every word of respect that he considers owed to him. He is alive to every slight. He will punish any man who does not bow low enough before him, who does not remove his hat quickly enough. He once ordered the mayor of the village to have a man whipped for not removing his hat in my grandfather’s presence.”

  “But, but how utterly ridiculous in this day and age.”

  The side of his mouth quirked up in an ironic half smile. “Ridiculous, yes. And fortunately the mayor did not obey, much to my grandfather’s fury. But that is what my grandfather is like. That is how he deals with the world. Your father does not need to insist on the gestures because he already receives the respect they imply. Tell me, do many on your father’s estates go hungry?”

  “Oh no. Papa would never permit that. He is always informed of any problems, whenever anyone is injured or ill. The tenants, the people in the villages—they are our responsibility, after all.”

  “Responsibility, yes.” Lucien nodded thoughtfully. “That is why he thinks ill of me. He thinks I have failed to live up to my responsibilities, and he has reason. I have done some things for Varennes, but many problems I will not hear about, not when I am so far away. And I have not taken care to arrange things so that the problems will be addressed even in my absence.”

  “Well, that can be taken care of as soon as we reach Varennes.”

  Twenty-four

  Two days later, they gathered at the city gate to welcome David and Julia. The newly married pair were accompanied by a dozen men, presumably his cousins, since all of them resembled David to a remarkable degree. In addition to providing a protective circle around the bride and groom, they led a pair of magnificent horses, inky black, a stallion and a mare. Onlookers, who had gathered to see what was happening, smiled on the bride and groom, but viewed the horses with gasps of admiration.

  The cousins acknowledged the admiration with smiles of pride. They could not, however, match the happiness in David’s smile when he looked at his bride. Her smile was hidden by a veil but her eyes shone brilliantly and rested on her husband more often than not.

  In fact, Emily thought, they seemed to be contained in a sort of bubble of happiness. David smiled and joked with his cousins, but it was obvious that his thoughts were only for Julia. Even when they were not actually touching, they leaned toward each other, as if on the verge of an embrace.

  Emily was happy for her friends. Extremely happy. Really, she was. It was just that she could not prevent the twinge of jealousy twisting inside her. David and Julia did not have to stand six feet apart, as she and Lucien were standing, with her parents in between them. They were right beside each other, and after he lifted her from her horse, David kept his arm around her, a gesture both possessive and protective.

  When Julia reached her, the veil pushed aside as she threw her arms around Emily in an utterly uninhibited embrace, those twinges of jealousy vanished, washed away by the waves of Julia’s joy. Emily realized that for the first time since she had known her, there was no wall of reserve around Julia. For the first time, Julia’s face bore no trace of fear, and she did not carry herself tensed as if to ward off scorn and insult.

  Tears welled up in her eyes, mixed with the laughter of happiness, and Emily saw that her mother was sharing the same emotions. All the way back to the house, tucked away in the carriage, the women laughed and cried and hugged and communicated perfectly without a single coherent sentence.

  Once they had arrived at the house, Lady Penworth and Emily, with Nuran and Safiye fluttering behind, escorted Julia to the two rooms that were now to be hers and David’s. Her hands lifted to cover her mouth, Julia stood in the middle of the room and turned slowly, drinking it in.

  “Do you like it?” asked Lady Penworth, sounding unusually uncertain. “We had not much time, but Nuran and Safiye helped us decorate it.”

  Emily lifted the silk hangings around the bed and let them float back into place. “I love this golden shade. It always looks beautiful on you. And you have to walk barefoot on the rug. It feels marvelous underfoot.”

  “I do love you,” Julia half laughed, half sobbed as she flung her arms around Emily. “And you too, Lady Penworth. You are my real family.”

  “Of course we are, my dear.” Lady Penworth seemed to be having a bit of difficulty with her voice and was obliged to use her handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

  In this flurry of emotion, Julia’s outer robe had fallen to the floor.

  “Julia! Your dress!” exclaimed Emily. “Or robe. Whatever it is, it’s gorgeous!”

  Julia smiled shyly. “It is, isn’t it?” She held out her arms as she twirled around to better display the elaborate gold embroidery that covered the front, sleeves, and hem of the loose white robe in wide bands of arabesques
. “It was a gift from David’s grandmother and aunts.”

  “Your hands!” Lady Penworth gasped. “Surely you haven’t been tattooed?”

  Julia smiled and held her hands up. The backs were covered in more arabesques, in red this time. “No. It’s henna, and it will fade. The ladies did this for me, before the wedding. The designs are supposed to bring good luck.”

  “How lovely.” Emily held Julia’s hand to examine the design. “It looks like lace. Does it hurt?”

  “Goodness, no. It’s just painted on. And it was fun, really. I didn’t understand most of what was said, but all the women were laughing and joking while they painted my hands and we ate fruits and sweets and drank mint tea and…” Suddenly her eyes filled with tears. “And they made me feel welcomed. Part of a family. Just as you do.”

  The women dissolved into another wave of tears and laughter and embraces.

  *

  Lady Penworth had not known what to expect, but the servants had known. Altan had assured her that there was no need for her to worry. Everything would be done as it should be for the pride of the house. One could not have Mr. Oliphant’s cousins return to Sheik Rashad complaining of the poor hospitality of the bride’s family.

  An entire lamb had been roasted for the occasion. There were platters of fragrant rice and vegetables, bowls of dried fruit and nuts, sweets dripping with honey, and cups of cold sherbet and hot mint tea. The Arab guests were seated on carpets spread out in the courtyard, while the Europeans sat on chairs or benches, but they all shared laughter as well as food.

  Lucien sat down beside David on the bench in the courtyard. The cousins had stopped teasing him, and had subsided into joking among themselves. The teasing had obviously bothered David not at all, and he leaned back against the wall looking utterly relaxed and utterly happy. He was watching Julia, who was in turn stealing glances at him—and sharing smiles—as she sat with Emily and Lady Penworth.

  “Well then, my friend, you have your happy ending.” Lucien clapped David on the shoulder.

  “Indeed.” It took a while for David to tear his eyes from his wife and look at his friend. “And you too, you rescued Lady Emily and brought her safely home. All is well there?”