by Bobbi Smith
Rabi's demands left Serad confused and more than a little angry. He wanted Tori and he would not give her up, no matter what his aunt said. But guilt attacked him, too, feeding on the truth of her words. At his aunt's mention of his grandfather and their noble past, he grew even more troubled. Distant, vague memories of an old gentleman, a big house, and the green countryside stirred within him. He frowned, unable to think of anything to say that would soothe her. When he heard a soft, feminine voice speak his name from the far side of the garden, interrupting them, he was relieved.
"Serad! Welcome back." Talitha, Malik's daughter, greeted him happily as she hurried forth to join them.
"Talitha . . . I'd been wondering where you were." He turned to face her with a big smile.
"I've been right here with Rabi, waiting for you." Talitha knew it wasn't quite proper for her to visit so familiarly with him this way, but she'd been unable to resist when she'd heard the sound of his voice.
A small, dark-eyed, pretty young woman, she was adored by all who knew her for her gentle spirit and sweet ways. She had always worshipped Serad, and her feelings for him were definitely not those of a sibling. He, however, thought of her only as a little sister, and despite all Talitha's dreams and hopes to the contrary, she was slowly coming to accept that that would never change.
"I'm sure you're just flattering me. How many men offered for you while I was away?" He asked the same question of her every time he returned, and it had become a regular part of their banter.
"Only two this time," she confessed.
"And you convinced your father you wanted no part of either of them?" he ventured.
"Of course. How could I care for them, when they have to compete with you for my heart?"
"If only that were true."
Talitha heard the brotherly tone to his words and fought down the sadness that threatened over recognizing that he would never be hers. "Oh, it is, but you don't believe me, so I suppose I'll just have to wait until someone comes along who is as wonderful as you are."
"There are very few men around of Serad's caliber. He's an exceptional man, in all ways." Rabi had been momentarily silenced by the young woman's appearance, but she entered the conversation now, keeping her gaze trained on her nephew. She wanted him to understand that she expected only the most noble behavior from him.
"I know," Talitha agreed.
"It's good to know you both have such a high opinion of me," he spoke up, "and as much as I would like to stay longer, I must go. Hasim mentioned that he was planning a hunting trip for us, and there's much I must do before we go." Hasim had mentioned the possibility of a trip, but at the time he'd refused to give him an answer one way or the other. Now, after listening to his aunt, he was more confused than ever about Tori, and he knew he needed some time away.
Both women wished him success on the hunt They knew how much Hasim and Serad enjoyed their outings together. They had gone regularly as youths, and they were renowned for both the accuracy of their marksmanship and the excellence of their riding abilities.
Serad kissed Rabi on the cheek and bid them both good-bye, then made his escape from the harem. He sought out Hasim in the palace to tell him that he was agreeable to the trip.
"Hasim, my brother, I've made my decision. Let's go on the hunt."
"You surprise me, Serad. I had assumed your beautiful woman would hold you close to home."
"You were wrong." he countered, keeping his manner light so as to dismiss any further discussion about Tori. "How soon do you want to leave?"
"How soon can you be ready to go?"
"I have left Tariq in charge of the Scimitar. I need only send word to him that I will be gone for a few days and then get my things together."
"I will meet you here at the stables in an hour."
They parted, and Serad went to his own home for the first time since arriving in Algiers. Mallah was waiting there for him. After telling his crewman of his plans, he instructed him to return to the ship and notify Tariq. Serad then ordered his personal servants to tend to his needs. Though he really wanted to go to Tori and find out how she was adjusting to the harem, he did not. He made only a passing inquiry as to the state of the women's comfort along with directions for the servants to buy whatever clothing they needed.
Hasim was ready when Serad met him at Malik's stables. He had chosen to ride his favorite mare on their excursion. Well trained though the horse was, she had not been ridden by her master for many months and was a bit wild. Serad understood her excitement at being freed from the confinement of the stables, but he controlled her with a steady hand and knowing pressure from his guiding knees.
As Serad waited for his brother to mount up, he couldn't help but wonder if the comparison he and Tariq had made between the mare and Tori was really true. Had Tori accepted him as her master more easily than the horse or was she merely playing at the part, biding her time until she could make a break for freedom? The mare could be controlled, but she still had a streak of independence in her. He frowned at the possibility that Tori might be exactly the same way.
The mare, as if sensing the agitation in his mood, moved a little restlessly beneath Serad, and he brought her back under control, giving her his full attention. Determinedly pushing Tori out of his mind, he set about to enjoy his time with his brother.
The sun was low in the west as they left Algiers and rode out into the desert. Both men enjoyed the feeling of freedom that came during these times, and they left their attendants with the pack animals carrying the necessary items for their camp far behind as they gave their horses full rein. The desert landscape swept by in a blur as they charged across the sand. They did not stop until they reached the rock formation that had always been the designated winning marker for their races. It was tight, but Serad's mare proved the quickest this day.
Reining in, Serad turned to his brother and laughed at his frustrated expression. "You're slowing down, Hasim."
Hasim ignored his comment as he drew up beside him and complained, "Not only do you have the prettiest woman, you also have the fleetest mount."
"It's a good thing your wives aren't around to hear you say that," Serad countered. "It seems that not so long ago you were bragging that your newest wife, Alima, was the most beautiful woman in Algiers."
"Alima is lovely, and she dances like a goddess," Hasim agreed, thinking of her, "but this Englishwoman of yours is special. I was surprised when you agreed to come along with me. If she were mine, I wouldn't have been so quick to leave her."
"What makes you so sure she is mine?"
"You own her. She's your captive," he said carelessly.
"I don't think any man will ever 'own' Tori. She's as elusive as the wind. Try as you might to capture her completely, she always eludes you."
"But you have captured her," Hasim insisted, frowning as he tried to understand what his brother was saying.
"Physically, yes, but there's so much more to her. Haven't you learned that with any of your wives yet?"
Hasim looked troubled. "My wives are warm and willing. What more do I need from them?"
"My brother, you may own their bodies, but what of their minds? Tori challenges me in every way. She is as maddening as she is desirable. There is never a moment when I am completely sure of her. It is a challenge that is as invigorating as any contest of wills I have ever engaged in."
"You say women are interesting?" Hasim had never considered this. He'd always thought of his wives as necessities to satisfy his desires and bear his children. Otherwise, he'd never given them much thought. They were there when he needed them, and gone when he didn't want to be bothered.
"Very," Serad affirmed.
"Then why are you here with me?"
"There is a time to be with women and a time to be with men. Tonight, I feel the need to ride the wind, sleep under the desert stars, and in the morning, I want to see if my brother's aim is still good." Serad deliberately changed the subject.
"You thi
nk the quality of my marksmanship has suffered?"
Serad flashed him a confident grin. He remembered vividly the teasings he had suffered because of his young age when they'd first come to Algiers, and he took great pleasure in turning the tables now on Hasim. "They say the eyes lose their strength first. Since you are so much older than I am, it will be interesting to see if that is true. Until now, we have been evenly matched, but I've been at sea for quite a while. Perhaps you've aged more than you know."
"Your confidence in yourself is remarkable for one so callow and untried," Hasim returned good-naturedly, his dark eyes sparkling at the challenge. "At dawn we will find out who has the finest aim and who is the truest shot."
The challenge set, they rode on slowly to the prearranged campsite and settled in to await the arrival of their attendants.
It was much later, long after the sun had set and darkness had claimed the desert, that Serad lay in his tent alone, trying to sleep. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he got up and went outside. The sky was black velvet, spangled with a dusting of stars, and on the horizon hung just a sliver of a pale moon. A coolness at vast odds with the daytime temperatures pervaded the land, and Serad found solace in the sweet whisper of a night breeze.
Serad had thought getting away from Algiers would clear his mind; and it had, to some extent. He could see now that Hasim was right. He had been a fool to go off and leave Tori. She was everything he desired, and she belonged to him—by Barbary standards.
The trouble and confusion came when he held those standards up to the ones Aunt Rabi insisted he follow. How could he be something he was not? He was a corsair in service to the dey of Algiers. He was no English nobleman, no matter what she said . . . Or was he? The memories still hovered dimly in the back of his mind . . . of love and safety spent with that older man whose face he could no longer envision and of a small boat named the Scimitar. Was that the heritage his aunt insisted was truly his? Was he pirate or nobleman?
Scowling into the blackness of the night, Serad cast an agonized glance up at the heavens and then strode back toward his tent. One of the attendants stirred and became aware of his movements around the camp. He quickly arose.
"Serad . . . Do you need something?"
"No. Go back to sleep," he answered, and then disappeared into his tent once more. He was relieved when sleep finally came, but it was not to be a restful one. He was up and waiting for Hasim when his brother awoke just before dawn.
Tori and Jonesey sat in Tori's bedchamber, staring about themselves at its opulence.
"This is certainly as elegant as anything I've seen in England, but I wonder . . . if Serad's harem is like this, what does the dey's harem look like?" Jonesey asked conversationally. They had bathed in luxury and dined in splendor and were now relaxing together as the evening grew old.
Tori could not believe her companion's flights of fancy. "I certainly hope I never find out."
"Aren't you the least bit curious? Even after the stories I'd heard, I'd never dreamed that living in a harem would be like this. Why, our every wish is fulfilled. We have only to ask for it and those two servants rush off to get whatever it is we want."
"What I want is my freedom!" Tori said in agitation as she got up from the bed and stalked out onto the balcony, leaving Jonesey behind.
The night was beautiful, and the breeze was cool and fresh. The glory of the evening was lost on Tori, however. Serad had never returned as far as she knew, and she'd wanted to speak with him. She wondered where he was. Had he sent word back to England yet that they were here? Had he made the ransom demand? Tori leaned on the stone railing and stared with sightless eyes across the lovely courtyard below.
"You know, things could be much worse for us." Jonesey's voice came from right behind her as she came outside to be with her ward.
"I know," Tori agreed slowly, "but it doesn't make it any easier for me to accept that we are now considered to be Serad's property, just because he says it's so." And here Serad didn't even care enough about his possessions to inquire about them or come to see them. Tori wasn't quite sure why that bothered her, only that it did.
"What does it matter as long as we're safe? Word will be sent soon, if it hasn't been already. Our ransom will be paid by your grandfather, and soon we'll be on our way to London and your fiancé."
"If he'll still have me . . ."
"Of course he will!" Jonesey defended her honor. "Why, if anyone even suggests anything less than honorable about you, I'll . . ."
"You'll what?" Tori gave her a tender smile as she turned to face her.
Jonesey returned her smile. "I suppose I'm not quite so fearsome without my umbrella, but I'll make sure there are no doubts in their minds."
"Did I ever tell you that I love you, Jonesey?" the younger woman asked.
"Often, but I'd like to hear it again."
They hugged each other and then went back inside to find the two servants waiting for them.
"Is there anything else you would like before you retire for the night?"
"No. Nothing," Tori answered, then added on sudden impulse to cure her curiosity, "Where is Serad? Will he be coming to speak with us this evening? I have a few things I'd like to ask him."
"Serad?" Oma's eyes opened wide. It was not the custom of the women to ask about the men. The men saw the women only at their convenience. It was the woman's duty to wait quietly and happily to be summoned. "Why, Serad's left Algiers, and we do not expect him to be back for days."
"He's left? Just like that?" Tori was upset. She'd at least hoped to speak to him and ask him if he'd sent the ransom demand. Finding out that he was gone and without a word, infuriated her.
"Yes. It is not our place to question the movements of our master. He tells us only what he wants us to know. Nothing more. It is the way here."
"Well, your ways are wrong," Tori declared in annoyance.
Oma and Zena quietly left the room rather than get caught up in an argument that served no purpose. These Englishwomen would learn the ways of the Barbary States, but it appeared because of their stubbornness that they would learn slowly.
Later that night, when she lay alone courting sleep, Tori wondered why she'd reacted so angrily to the news that Serad had gone. Simple logic told her that she should have been happy to know he was not around. She didn't have to worry about him walking in on her in a state of undress or concern herself with any advances he might make on her. She was here, safe in the harem with Jonesey. She should be content for the time being. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself, but it didn't work. When at last Tori fell asleep, her dreams were a jumbled mixture of Serad and Alexander and her locket. In her mind's eye, they entwined together in a spinning vortex of confusion, and she could make no sense of the images that tormented her. A deep, abiding rest was not hers that night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"It can't be true!" Edward exclaimed in heartfelt misery as he shared a terrible, pained look with his friend, Alfred Lawrence. "When did you receive word?"
"They came to me late the night before last. I waited until I'd made sure everything he told me was the truth before coming to see you," the marquess explained morosely. "Edward, I don't know what to do. There's been no word . . . no ransom demand made . . . How am I ever going to tell my son and his wife that their precious child has been taken captive by those terrible Barbary pirates?"
The duke went to his friend and put a supportive arm around his shoulders. Alfred was a big, healthy man, but right now he seemed very old and frail. Edward could feel the defeat in him.
"I understand, Alfred," he sympathized completely, remembering clearly the time when he, too, had suffered such a horrible sense of loss. Even now, after the wonder and thrill of Alexander's return, there were still days when he longed for Catherine—longed to see her beautiful face . . . ached to hold her in a fatherly embrace and tell her that he loved her and that he'd tried everything to find her. He barely controlled the shudder that thr
eatened to escape him.
"I know you do," the marquess replied raggedly. Edward was the only one who could truly understand the depth of his loss. "I love Victoria so deeply . . . She's my only grandchild and she means the world to me . . ."
"I felt the same way when Alexander and Catherine disappeared all those years ago, but there is one spot of good news in the situation. You can take heart in the fact that the sailor saw them alive and well when they were taken aboard the pirate's vessel. I'm sure you'll receive a demand for money soon. Those pirates are bloodthirsty, but they're not stupid. Once they find out how much money she's worth, they'll hurry to sell her back."
"I hope you're right, Edward."
So do I, Edward thought to himself.
"What about young Alexander?" He raised an agonized gaze to his friend's.
"We'll have to tell him the truth," the duke said slowly. "There's no point in trying to hide any of this from him. Alexander needs to know. They may not be acquainted yet, but they are betrothed."
"And as far as the engagement goes . . .? Are you concerned about . . .?" Alfred feared that terrible rumors might start that would ruin Victoria's reputation and ultimately her future.
Edward held up a hand to silence him. "Say no more. We'll leave things the way they are. I feel certain that Victoria will return, and that she'll be fine. After all, Alfred, if Alexander could disappear for all those years and find his way back to be with me, your Victoria can do it, too. Besides, you know where she's been taken. Inquiries can be made, and . . ."
"I've already started checking to find the best way to send the payment, if and when the demand comes."
"Good. For right now that's all you can do. That and wait, but know that if you need anything, Alfred, anything at all, you only have to ask."
Alfred thanked his friend from the bottom of his soul. He paused as if gathering his thoughts, and then asked, "Shall we call Alexander in now? I think it's important he learns what's happening from me."
A short time later, David stood before the two men, his expression grave as he listened to their words.