Dangerous Weakness

by Warfield, Caroline

  Richard groped for words. What did the fool woman expect when she wouldn’t marry me? “Lily, we would have managed something.” He had no clue what.

  “All I wanted from you was my father home. Papa could have helped, but all you had for me was delay after delay.”

  Fair enough. I failed you in that. I let Castlereagh and Foreign Office come first. It can’t be helped now. None of it can. “Why did you lie about it?” he asked. “You told me no further action needed.”

  “I didn’t lie. No action was or is needed from you,” she said, her defiant little chin raised.

  “You led me to believe there was no baby.”

  “You needed to get on with your courtship,” she said, red color blossoming on her neck. “How could I let you continue your absurd little dance of worry over me when all London knew you were to offer for Lady Sarah, and I knew I had no intention of taking your help.”

  A pained look slid over her face.

  Idiot! “Are you well? Do you need to sit? Should I call for help?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Physically I’m fine,” she said, smiling ruefully, “besides, when I get down on those cushions I have the devil’s own time getting back up.”

  They shared a smile at the image she evoked, the first shared pleasure since she entered the room.

  I could get lost in those eyes. I could spend my life laughing with this woman.

  “Marry me, Lily.” Badly done. He realized it immediately. His grace and poise had fled.

  She pulled away immediately.

  “Aren’t you betrothed?”

  “No.” Thank goodness for that. “It never happened. The Duke of Lisle demanded my attendance. I sent him a polite refusal, and I left.”

  “Left?”

  “I came to find you.” A faint smile teased her lips. He loved to look at those lips.

  “Marry me. You know we should.” He touched the place where the baby lay briefly. “We must.”

  “I told you no. I will not be the ambitious little parvenu who trapped the great Marquess of Glenaire into marriage. I will not be shoved into some country backwater with my baby when you grow embarrassed by my ‘less than desirable background?’”

  Did I really say that? His own words hung in the air between them.

  “Is this better?” he shouted. The guard moved a fraction. “And Mountview is not some backwater,” he mumbled.

  “So you did plan to send me to the country!”

  “I didn’t say that. Don’t twist my words.”

  “To answer your question, yes. This is better. Don’t let the walls fool you. Here I have respect and care. Here I’m close to the center of power and politics. Here I have voice.”

  Lily could waltz through the highest circles in Europe, a magnificent diplomatic hostess.

  “Our baby deserves a father. He deserves to know me.” He caught her frantic glance around at the impassive eunuch; he thought for a moment she looked guilty. She leaned in close.

  “I am a widow,” she said. He looked startled. She dropped her voice very low. “Everyone here believes I am a widow.”

  “You lied to the Valide Sultan?” He whispered back. She bit her lip and shook her head. Her eyes pleaded with him to let it go. He looked up at the guard.

  “We ought to marry. You know that. You owe it to your child,” he said more loudly.

  “Your offer is very kind, my lord, but I respectfully decline,” she replied through clenched teeth. She signaled to the guard, said “I take my leave now,” and turned to go.

  The door opened on silent hinges, and a beaming Sahin Pasha entered. “All is well?” he asked.

  “Certainly, honored uncle. The marquess is ready to leave.”

  “We’ll talk again, Lily,” Richard said to her retreating back. “We are not finished.”

  “Ask your spy,” Richard roared. The two men faced each other in the same room Lily had just left. Robert Liston stood quiet but observant to one side.

  “Ahmet is Lily’s protector. He is no spy. His presence was to lend what you English call propriety.”

  “You could have warned me.”

  Sahin put on a mask of innocence. “About the guard?”

  “The baby, as you well know,” Richard replied through clenched teeth.

  “You did not know? I expected the English services to have better care for their citizens.” Sahin’s mocking smile lasted a few more moments.

  “This has nothing to do with the government.”

  Sahin relaxed, and a look of what might have been genuine concern took the place of mockery.

  I’m never sure what this damned man thinks.

  “Miss Thornton’s baby is yours then?”

  He jerked his head in a nod and flashed a guilty glance at Robert Liston. His majesty’s representative in Constantinople looked grim.

  “You will have wanted to do the honorable thing?”

  “Of course, damn you. I offered for her immediately and again in London and three times just now. She won’t have me.”

  “Foolish chit,” Liston declared.

  Sahin shook his head. “Who can fathom the minds of women? Lily Thornton should have more sense than to turn down a future duke.”

  “She doesn’t care about that. She claims she wants a life of politics and diplomacy. What does she think I do? I can give her all that.”

  “Which she knows very well.”

  “She may have gotten the impression I look down on her background,” Richard mumbled.

  “Ah. Do you?” Sahin looked over at Liston. To the man’s credit, his face had lost its mockery.

  “No! Some might.”

  “Your most elevated mother?”

  “And those who fawn on her. Lily’s family isn’t from the highest circles, but adequate.”

  “Adequate?” Sahin laughed. “How that must reassure her!”

  “She more than makes up for it in intelligence and talent needed in a diplomat’s wife.”

  Sahin nodded. “That she does. Here we value merit. It is possible to rise far in the Sublime Porte on talent alone.”

  “Then what does the woman want? She has to be made to see reason.”

  “It is my experience that women who are nesting rarely concern themselves with grand affairs. Reason, I fear, is not what she seeks.”

  “What else then? She isn’t a fool, but she has acted like one ever since—”

  “Since my men borrowed your horses and left you at a country inn? We returned them to the earl, by the way.”

  “Yes, then. What does she want?”

  “You will have to reason that out for yourself, my dear marquess. For now she wishes to stay here.”

  Richard glared at Sahin. Not if I can help it. I can bring the power of England to bear. I can—

  “Such a fierce look. I suggest you return to your embassy with your reasonable friend Sir Robert and allow our Zambak time to think.”

  “Zambak?”

  “Our word for Lily. One warning, my lord,” Sahin said. “Miss Thornton’s position here is at the will of my aunt. The Valide Sultan has conceded a deception that would reflect poorly on her if it were to be known.”

  Richard shrugged.

  “Take me seriously, please,” Sahin insisted. “Court the widow Thornton—as well you should—but do not demand the return of an unmarried Englishwoman. We will not allow it.” His implacable look gave teeth to what was without question a threat.

  Richard leaned into his face. “Make no mistake. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring Lily home. She belongs with me.”

  Chapter 26

  The bathhouse echoed with every move Lily took. The high ceilings and ornate tiled walls normally rang with the happy voice
s of women starting their day. Lily came late the day after her confrontation with Richard, late and without pleasure. She bathed alone with a single attendant seeing to her needs.

  “Does the lady wish rosemary oil?” the little bath attendant asked in an effort to elicit a response from Lily when she rose from the warm water.

  Lily shrugged. A sleepless night punctuated with bouts of tears left her wrung out. “Please, yes,” she murmured more out of concern for the girl than because she cared.

  I deserved his anger, she repeated to herself for the hundredth time.

  The attendant began helping her dress. This morning Lily didn’t notice the feeling of silk sliding on skin, the sensation she normally loved.

  He ought to have raged at me, but he didn’t. Cool, calm, and in control. That’s the Marble Marquess. Richards’s immovable self-control made her irrationally irritable. Just once I’d like to see him lose control. Just once. Lily hoped she wouldn’t be on the receiving end if that ever happened.

  She thought of the look on his face when he recognized her pregnancy, the wonder in his eyes when he felt the baby move. Just because he stays in control doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.

  The attendant bowed out. Lily, alone in the warm confines of the bathhouse, lingered. Memories of Richard’s friends and family ran circuits in her mind as they had all night: Richard teasing with Chadbourn and Catherine, Richard’s affection for the Mallets in defiance of his parents, Richard minimizing his mother’s sharp unkindness to wallflowers at the ball. Above all, she kept coming back to Richard in the foyer of Aunt Marianne’s house, discreetly helping his friend Baron Ross financially. He cares for them all, she realized. He takes care of those he loves; he—

  A stab of grief stabbed Lily to the heart. I’ve been an idiot. He takes care of those he loves. She fought the storm of tears that threatened to overcome her and rose to leave.

  She reached the anteroom by the outside door when a group of older women entered, the Valide Sultan and her closest attendants. Lily opened her mouth to give a proper greeting, but anguish froze it in her throat.

  The Valide Sultan gestured the other women on and put out her arms to Lily. The attendants passed by with curious glances and respectful silence. Lily sank into the older woman’s arms and began to sob.

  “One has worries for you, Zambak. Your tears in the night did not go unnoticed.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lily sniffed, struggling for control. “I didn’t know anyone heard.”

  “You should know by now most things come to my ears eventually.” The woman smiled down at her. “Better?”

  Lily nodded.

  “Most but not everything. Was that English lord unkind to you, Zambak? I would not have permitted the meeting if I thought you would be harmed.”

  “No! He had reason to be angry with me, but he was not.” Tears threatened again. “He had a shock, seeing me like this and—” Lily swallowed hard, twice.

  “I’ve been an idiot!” she exclaimed.

  “Hardly that, Zambak, but perhaps you’ve behaved foolishly, no?” The older woman gently touched Lily’s belly.

  “I told him I would not marry him. I rejected him in insulting terms.”

  “You rejected this wealthy, powerful man’s offer of marriage?”

  “Three times,” Lily mumbled.

  “Foolish behavior indeed, almost as foolish as conceiving this child in the first place. It is his child?”

  Lily nodded.

  “He is honor bound.”

  “He believes so.”

  “And you wish protestations of love. You are as silly as those girls you teach, Zambak. He honored you three times and you insulted him. I do not think he will ask again.”

  Tears leaked from Lily’s eyes in spite of her best efforts. “I must talk with him.”

  Valide Sultan’s shrewd eyes hardened. “You wish us to arrange another such meeting? It can be done, but to what purpose?”

  Lily clamped her jaw tight. What purpose indeed?

  “Men do not like to be commanded,” her companion said.

  “No.” Lily’s laugh held little amusement. “He would not want to be commanded.”

  “What then, Zambak? What is it you wish?”

  I could write. I could tell him I changed my mind. I could apologize. I could—

  “I think I must go to him,” Lily said. “Nothing less than an apology and surrender will do.”

  The Valide Sultan took Lily’s shoulders in her hands.

  “If you go, you cannot come back,” she said.

  Lily didn’t respond right away.

  “You’ve led your marquess in a complicated dance. You will not do the same to us.” The woman’s imperial power, firm and unyielding, radiated from her.

  “I understand, Highness. Your great kindness will rest in my heart forever. I will not abuse it,” Lily said.

  The old woman searched Lily’s face as if looking for any weakness. “Sahin has told you of dangers.”

  “Yes. I’ll be safe at the British embassy.”

  “I can see that you are guarded that far, but Zambak, you must be certain.”

  “I am.”

  As certain as I can be.

  The sun began its descent to the horizon behind the towers of Hagia Sophia when Lily, swathed in veils, stepped onto the boat that would take her across the Golden Horne. The fabled waterway that divided Stamboul, the Muslim quarter and seat of power, from Petra and the foreign quarter of Constantinople glowed orange in its light.

  Ahmet stepped in front of her, inspecting the quay and the crowd beyond. Satisfied, he helped her to shore.

  “Thank you,” Lily smiled, even though he could not see her face beneath its covering.

  “Are you sure of this, Zambak?” he asked without looking at her. His eyes, she noted, scanned the crowd continually. He had approved of her decision to meet Richard but not this trip to the embassy.

  “As sure as we can be.” She also scanned the quay. At another time, without Volkov’s threats, she might have found this place exhilarating. Not this time. She shivered. Sahin warned you. Even if Volkov were not loose, this place is not safe for a woman alone.

  Another bodyguard, a man she didn’t recognize, followed her to shore. He clambered up stone steps behind her. Both men were tall, towering above the crowds. Both looked strong. Both wore ornate swords in their belts. Lily suspected other less decorative and perhaps more deadly weapons were hidden on their person.

  Don’t be a ninny, Lily. These men will protect you. If you fear anything, it should be Richard’s reaction to your about-face. What if he sends you away? You can’t go back.

  The crowd alone would have been difficult to manage in her condition. In another time, without child, she might have enjoyed the flow of humanity and cacophony of languages. This time, she pulled her arms around herself protectively, fearing she might be jostled. In the face of her two companions, however, the crowd parted before them.

  They made their way past sellers of figs and silver, vendors of fruits and sandalwood. In that other time, without her concerns about Richard’s reaction hanging over her, she might have lingered. This time, she had to be careful not to get lost in thought.

  Ahmet reached a narrow passage paved in worn cobbles that opened next to a booth of rug sellers. Lily followed him into the shadows between two stone walls. The rear guard had just followed in behind her when it happened.

  Lily heard a grunt behind her and turned to see her keeper on the ground, blood spilling over cobblestones from the gaping incision across his neck. When she spun to run for Ahmet, unseen hands pulled at her veils. She twisted loose but found herself trapped between the unseen danger behind and shadowy figures swarming the man in front of her. He fought like a madman but looked about to f
all.

  Lily clutched her middle and began to pray.

  Chapter 27

  Liston’s secretary shot Richard a cautious glance and made himself scarce.

  When they had returned from Richard’s disastrous meeting with Lily the previous night, the ambassador had suggested, politely, that they avoid “disturbing” Sahin Pasha or other officials for a few days. He hinted that Richard might calm himself first. “Delicate diplomacy, Glenaire, delicate is called for.” Richard had raged; the ambassador had reasoned. This afternoon Liston merely disappeared.

  The first time Richard asked to see Liston, the man’s secretary cheerfully refused him. The second time he tugged at his elaborate cravat and fidgeted nervously in his chair. The third time the full wrath of a frustrated marquess came down on the man’s thinning hair. His swift departure prevented a fourth.

  You know better than to berate a servant. It isn’t his fault Liston made himself unavailable all morning. Damn Liston anyway.

  Liston wouldn’t dare forbid the Marquess of Glenaire, son and heir of the Duke of Sudbury and Castlereagh’s own protégé, from appearing at the palace unannounced and alone, but he had come damned close, and now he avoided Richard completely.

  The image of Lily pregnant with his child haunted his dreams and bedeviled his day. She’s locked in the damned Seraglio and won’t talk to me—not that talk has gotten me anywhere so far. His urge to act, frustrated at every turn, refused to die. It roiled in his gut and drove him to pace like a madman.