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Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 28

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By this time they had arrived at the Street of the Used Clothing Vendors, and Jinji, who seemed to have a great deal of knowledge for someone in Istanbul only one day, went directly to the stall of a Jew he appeared to know by reputation. There he successfully bargained for a total of six outfits for Aidan's slaves; baggy trousers, and blouses and boleros, as well as sashes, capes, and shoes. Everything was of good quality, and very clean. Having paid for his purchases they now began the return trip to the baths.

"How is it," Aidan's curiosity got the better of her, "that you seem to know this city so well?" she demanded of Jinji.

"My very first master lived here in Istanbul," the eunuch answered. "I know the city very well. It is my first memory, and is like home to me. I was made a eunuch, after all, when I was very young. I love this place, and I hope for nothing better than to end my days here."

Having reached the baths Jinji escorted his mistress into the reception room of the hamam for it would have been unthinkable for her to remain outside for any long period of time, and they could not be certain that Marta and her daughters were ready to return with them. The eunuch made inquiries, and was told it would be just a moment or two more before the three were ready. Jinji handed the bath attendant three sets of clothing with instructions that they were for his mistress' slavewomen.

"I told them to burn those vermin-ridden rags that they were wearing when we brought them into the baths," he said to Aidan.



She chuckled. "A very wise decision although I suspect that poor Marta will be most distressed to find the last remnant of her past life has been consigned to destruction."

"She will survive the tragedy," he said somewhat wryly. "What you have bought them will probably be the nicest things they have ever owned in their lives."

"She was no poor woman," said Aidan. "Her husband, she tells me, was a man of means."

"More than likely she was a fisherman's wife," Jinji sniffed, "but no matter. I only hope she is trainable. We should have no trouble with her daughters, but a woman of her years is most likely to be set in her ways, my lady Marjallah. I hope you were right in purchasing them. You have too kind a heart, I fear."

Then the bath attendants were leading before them three females, and both Aidan and Jinji gasped in surprise. Clean, Marta and her two daughters were handsome females with pretty brown eyes, and dark blond braids. Each was neatly dressed in light blue baggy trousers, rose-colored cotton blouses, and short boleros of a blue-and-rose-striped satin. They had pretty matching slippers upon their feet, blue-and-silver-patterned shawls tied about their hips, and little caps of cloth of silver upon their heads. They were a trio of most presentable handmaidens, and Aidan said so: "How lovely you all look, and don't you feel better now?"

"Well," said Marta, "I must admit that bathing is not so bad, but all that nudity! Still we're none the worse for wear, my lady, and I thank you for our new clothing."

Aidan smiled. "That is but the first of many new things you have to learn. You are going to have to learn to speak Turkish, Marta, but come now. We must return to the prince's palace before he begins to wonder what has happened to us."

They returned to Javid Khan's palace, and seeing it in the late-afternoon light for the first time Aidan was enchanted with it. It was called the Jewel Serai, and indeed it was placed precisely as a fine gem might be within a precious setting. Javid Khan had said it sat upon a point of land between the Bosporus and the Black Sea which was not precisely so. Actually the Jewel Serai had been built upon a spit of land very near the mouth of the Bosporus where it emptied into the Black Sea, but it was most definitely on the Bosporus. It was possible, however, to see the Black Sea easily from the palace itself, and the property belonging to it widened as one moved back from the point itself and curved into the sh.o.r.e of the larger body of water.

The Jewel Serai had been built of white marble, and Aidan imagined that with the sunset or sunrise tinting it golden it would be absolutely gorgeous. It sat directly on the water, its gardens to its right side and to the rear of the building. A graceful dome rose over the center portion of the building, and a pillared, open portico ran along its entire length. The private section of the palace was in the right wing of the building, the left section was open to those who might come to deal officially with the amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea.

The Great Khan had bought the palace for his son from the heirs of a wealthy merchant who did not want it. Its distance from the center of Istanbul made it undesirable to them, and to many others who preferred living nearer the city. In the years since the merchant's death the beautiful gardens had become overgrown, and neglected, wildflowers seeding themselves in the beds along with what had once been perfectly cultivated blooms. From the sea, however, the tangled growth was colorful and beautiful.

The eyes of Aidan's serving women widened as they gazed at the Jewel Serai. "Is that where we are to live, my lady?" asked Marta in a voice filled with awe. "Is the prince's harem a large one? Will there be many women?"

"The prince," said Aidan, "is but newly come to Istanbul, and I was only presented to him by the sultan yesterday. He has no other women although he a.s.sures me that he enjoys them." She blushed at that statement, and then continued on. "Jinji tells me that the prince mourns the loss of his wife which may account for his behavior."

The large caique had nosed itself into the sh.o.r.e, and its pa.s.sengers disembarked. Watching them from a window of the building Javid Khan saw that Marjallah had three other females with her. He smiled to himself. Here was his first fact about Marjallah. She was obviously not extravagant. His favorite wife, Zoe, had been like that, never wanting more than she needed. She had been a gentle girl, a quiet girl, a girl of peace to whom all other members of his harem had turned because they trusted Zoe to solve their disputes fairly. She had been a lovely woman, mother of two of his sons, and a daughter.

Yet he had been equally attracted to the woman he had made his second wife, the mercurial Ayesha. What a marvelous contradiction Ayesha had been. One moment she would be purring like a kitten, and the next minute she would be flaming like a volcano. Her moods had both fascinated and infuriated him, but her very differences when compared with Zoe had intrigued him, kept him always coming back to her couch. Her saving grace had been that Ayesha had never held a grudge in her entire life. Her anger might flare quickly, but it was over and done with just as quickly. She also had given him two sons.

His sons. He felt a pang of anguish ripping through him as it did each time he remembered his children. He had fathered six sons and two daughters. His eldest, Devle.t, named for his own father, would have been fourteen this year. The youngest of his sons had been a chubby toddler of only two. As for his daughters, and now he felt tears p.r.i.c.king at the back of his eyelids, the eldest of all his children had been the daughter that he and Zoe had first created. Her name had been Oma, and she had been her mother's image. This would have been her sixteenth year, and she had been betrothed to the heir of a neighboring khan. His youngest daughter was seven, and had been a mischievous imp called Leila.

Gone. They were all gone now. His strong, healthy sons; his beautiful daughters, his women. It was as if they had never existed. Not a trace of them remained except in his memory, but the memories were too painful right now. He didn't want to remember. Even a strong man could bear only so much. He focused his eyes again toward the quay, but Marjallah and her attendants had already entered the building.

He would go to the harem, and see them, and if she pleased him today he would allow her to eat the evening meal with him. He was sad, and he was lonely. He had not been happy when the sultan had so jovially presented him with Marjallah last night, but now he was beginning to have second thoughts. All the mourning in the world would not bring back his women and his children. His father had sent him to Istanbul to make a new start. To remove him from his sorrow, and although he could not entirely forget, nor should he ever, at least he could try to live again. He had never been a man for self-pity.

He strode purposefully from his apartment, and down the hall into the women's quarters. Her eunuch-what was the creature's name?-hurried forward to welcome him effusively. He was hard put not to smile for the eunuch was so d.a.m.nably anxious to please.

"Welcome, my lord prince! Welcome!"

Aidan turned, and took her first really good look at the man who was called her master. She bowed prettily. "Welcome, my lord prince," and remembering both the hospitality of Safiye and Nur-U-Banu said, "Bring refreshments, Jinji." She then seated the prince where he might have a view of the sea. He was every bit as handsome as Conn, she thought, but in an entirely different way. Conn's good looks were almost pretty in their perfection, but Javid Khan's face was a stern one upon first glance although now as he smiled at her the severeness eased. His face was long rather than round, his chin gave the appearance of having been carved from stone so hard and determined was it. His cheekbones were very high and sculpted, and his eyes, although not narrowed as his pure Tartar ancestors had been, were almond-shaped although they were a startling sky blue in color. Bareheaded within the privacy of his own home, Javid Khan proved to have tawny gold hair.

"My lord, I am not certain if what I do is the correct thing," Aidan said quietly. "I fear my ignorance of customs in this land will shock and repel you, and so I pray you tell me if what I do is right, and when I am wrong."

"Are women not the same everywhere, Marjallah?" he asked her.

"From what I have seen here in Istanbul I do not believe so, my lord."

"Elucidate to me then," he replied.

"In my land we are ruled by a queen."

"And her husband?"

"She has none. She is a virgin queen, but if she took a spouse, he would not automatically become king. Only she could make him so. He would be her husband only."

Javid Khan was interested, and his face showed it. "Say on, Marjallah. Tell me more."

"Do your women ride upon horses?"

"Once they did," he said, "but no more. It is a woman's role to bear her children, sons preferably, and to care for her home, her children, and her lord. That is why there is a harem. It is a safe place where a woman may live without distractions."

"How dull for your women," Aidan said before she realized the words, but seeing his mouth quirk at the corners in a small smile she knew she had not offended him, and continued. "Our women are not cloistered. They ride upon horses, they eat with their husbands and families, they study, they even dance with men. You cannot tell me that women here do all of those things, my lord."

"Yet even in your land a man's word is supreme. That much I am certain of despite what you have told me."

"A man in my country, indeed in all the civilized lands of Europe, does certainly have more rights than a woman, but we are not powerless."

"Can women in your land own property and goods?"

"We can!"

"But a man manages those properties and goods."

"Not always," she said quickly. "My sister-in-law is one of the wealthiest women in Europe. She has made her own wealth, and she manages that wealth, too!"

"But," he said with a small smile, "did she not begin with a man's portion?"

Aidan laughed. "You are absolutely correct, my lord, she did; but she increased that portion!"

"And you, Marjallah, did you manage your own lands and wealth?"

"Since I was my father's only heir he thought it wise I know such things, but until he grew too ill to do things himself I only oversaw his work. I freely admit that he did it himself." She nodded to Marta who was holding a decanter of fruit sherbet, and anxiously wondering where to place it. "Here, Marta, upon the table. You may pour the prince a gobletful."

"Yes, my lady." Marta never raised her eyes to them as she set her tray down. Little Fern hurried up with a plate of almond cakes, and scampered away as quickly, but not before she had flashed a shy smile at the prince and Aidan.

"She is a pretty child," remarked the prince.

"I bought Marta and her two daughters this morning. You said I might have women to serve me." Aidan pa.s.sed him a cake.

"I expected you to come back with a dozen giggling maidens, Marjallah. Are this woman and her daughters really enough to serve you?"

"To serve me personally? Of course, my lord. Why would more than three be necessary? If, however, you wanted me to obtain servants of a lower order to serve you, and to keep the palace in order you should have told me. I do not know what my duties are here yet."

He smiled a slow smile at her, and said, "Your duties are to please me in any way that I should so desire, Marjallah," and then he sat back to enjoy the slow blush that suffused her cheeks. He reached out, and gently touched her burning face. "I believe that you were given to me to be a houri, and not a prim little housekeeper." She was temporarily rendered speechless, and it amused him to have done so, not that he was angry at what she had said for he was enjoying her openness and her blunt speech, but he had not felt in command of the situation before, and now he did. A wife she might have been, but not, he suspected, an experienced one. He was going to enjoy finding out everything about her. "I came to ask you to have supper with me tonight, Marjallah. We will dine at seven." He drained his goblet, and popped the almond cake whole into his mouth. Then standing he left the room without another word.

She was stunned. Had she angered him? What was a houri? She looked to Jinji, her only guide in this strange new world of which she had become a part.

The young eunuch's features were filled with delight. "You have pleased him, my lady Marjallah! I did not think he would take you to his couch so quickly for his servants say that he mourned his family deeply."

"What happened to them?" she asked.

"I do not know," he said. "I do not feel it is important. What is of import is that the prince favors you, and now is your time, my lady Marjallah. You have no rivals, and it is possible to bind him to you before his attention wanders. You must have a son! If you bear his son, you will never lack for anything no matter how many women he may take to his couch."

A son, she thought. I wonder if Conn's baby was a son? She turned her head away from Jinji a moment so he might not see her tears. The reality was beginning to really seep into mind. Unless Conn walked through the door of the harem this minute, believed that she had been untouched so far in this adventure, and carried her off back home to Pearroc Royal, it was going to be indeed as Safiye had said. She would be dead to her husband. She sighed. She was dead to him. She simply had to face it. How could she escape? There was no way at all, and her common sense told her so. She had to make peace with herself, and this situation. If she displeased Javid Khan he could dispose of her. She did not think he would sell her for she had been a sultan's gift, but what use would she have in this house if she could not please him? She would be at the mercy of any other woman, or women who attracted him. Jealous, spiteful women who knew better than she did the ways of the harem. Suddenly she understood the not-so-subtle battle between Nur-U-Banu and Safiye for supremacy with Sultan Murad, and she was a little afraid.

"We have not much time," Jinji was chattering. "We must bathe and perfume you so that you will be a delight to the senses! Aiiii! I have so little with which to work. Why did I not think to buy musk and ambergris when we were in the city this morning? I must go back tomorrow. If we did not live at this distance from Istanbul then the bazaar women would come to us, but here!" He looked greatly aggrieved. "Here I must do everything myself."

"I like it better," said Aidan frankly. "It means that I can sometimes visit the city which I could not do if we lived there. I wouldn't like being cooped up all the time."

Jinji was not listening too attentively to her, however, for he was far too busy rumaging through her things, seeking bath oil, and soaps, and lotions with which to soften her already soft skin.

"What a way for a woman to have to live," said Marta expressing Aidan's own thoughts.

"But we are here," she answered, "and there is no help for it, Marta. I do not think I can change the prince's ways, do you?"

"No, my lady, I do not. It is easy to see that he is a strong man, and," she added, "a handsome one, too. Having seen some of the creatures who lurked about the slave markets I can tell you honestly that you are very well off. My daughters and I, too, for that matter."

Aidan submitted herself to the ritual of the bath although Jinji complained that without trained attendants, and the proper soaps and oils he wondered why he was lavishing his time and skills. He made Aidan laugh, and even Marta smiled at the eunuch's fussiness, while Fern and Iris giggled behind their hands, half-afraid that Jinji would see them for the two little sisters were very much in awe of the eunuch even if they did not understand him. Jinji took their teasing good-naturedly for he actually did have a good disposition, and he was, Aidan suspected, only imitating older and more experienced creatures of his kind for their inexperience in harem matters really made him their superiors.

"Never has a woman been so fortunate as you, my lady Marjallah! Do you know how rare it is for a woman to have such a chance as you do with a man of experience? Usually this opportunity only comes to some silly chit first chosen by a sultan, or a sultan's heir."

"You are telling me that I must go out of my way to both please and attract the prince tonight, Jinji, is that not it? But what if a companion at his supper is all he really wants of me? Will you then be disappointed?"

Jinji handed her a pair of beautiful midnight-blue trousers that had small metallic gold thread moths woven into them. "I do not believe at this moment in time that even the prince is aware of how he desires the evening to proceed. That, I suspect, will be up to you, my lady."

"Am I to seduce the prince then, Jinji?" Aidan drew the silk pantaloons on.

"Gracious, no!" the eunuch cried, his dark eyes rolling so far back in his head that only the whites showed for a moment. "That would be considered much too forward. The prince will lead you along the path that he wishes to, my lady. You have but to follow." He helped her into a sleeveless bolero of the same deep blue silk as her trousers. It was edged with delicate gold fringe. Kneeling he fastened about her hips a wide belt of gilt kid that was lavishly sewn with small pearls. Then while Marta knelt to fit Aidan's feet into matching kid slippers, Jinji sat his mistress upon a stool, and personally brushed out her long, soft hair. Carefully he braided her tresses, weaving into the one thick braid a small strand of fine seed pearls which were affixed to a ribbon of gold. "Please stand, my lady Marjallah," he said. Then hurrying to a chest he drew forth from it a leather case, and opening it displayed to her two ropes of pale pink pearls, and a pair of wonderful earbobs to match. "They are a gift from the valideh to you," said Jinji pridefully, and he bedecked her with the jewelry, adding some gold and silver bangles that were also in the case.

"The sultan's mother gave me these?" she was astounded. "Why?"

"Because she would be your friend. She is jealous of the lady Safiye's attempt to befriend you, and so she attempts to woo you away from her son's favorite."

"I think," said Aidan, "that I must tread a fine line between these two warring ladies. Both must be my friends. Is that not so, Jinji?"

The eunuch nodded. "Exactly! The favorite is likely to outlive the valideh, but one can never be too certain of these things. Life's path has a funny way of turning when you least expect it. You can gain another benefit by this tact. Stand between both of these great ladies, showing no favoritism, and causing no difficulty, and you will gain the sultan's favor, too. That would not be a bad thing, my lady Marjallah, and it would be of great advantage to the prince. Who knows what his needs will be with regard to his amba.s.sadorship. That, too, can endear you to him."

Iris stood before her holding up a round polished silver mirror. She looked into it, and Aidan was quite surprised by her own appearance. For the first time in her entire life she felt beautiful. Perhaps she was not, but the lavishness and at the same time the simplicity of her Oriental garb, seemed to flatter her.

"You are pleased with what you see," said Jinji, "but wait for there is one last thing I must do. Sit down again." He turned to little Fern. "Bring the kohl and the brushes that I showed you earlier," he ordered her gently using the words as Aidan told him so the child would understand, and she ran to do his bidding. When she returned she held the small alabaster pot of kohl for the eunuch while he carefully made up Aidan's eyes. When he had finished he said, "Now, my lady, look!"

The transformation was amazing. She was exotic-looking, and she could barely believe it. Oh, she thought, if only Conn and those silly girls I served with at court could see me!

"Now," said Jinji proudly, "you are fit and ready to go to our master. Come! I will escort you."

To her surprise Marta gave her a quick hug before she left her apartments, saying, "G.o.d go with you, my lady!"

Jinji walked her the short distance from the harem quarters to the prince's apartments, and opening the door into those rooms ushered her inside while pulling the door closed back behind her.

"How formal your Jinji is," the prince said coming forward to greet her. "He might have simply brought you across the garden," and he gestured with a hand through the wide gla.s.s windows.

Aidan realized that the overgrown garden she saw from the harem was also shared with the master of the house which she thought made a great deal of sense. "I think Jinji feared we should get lost in the undergrowth," she said with a smile. "Do you think it would be possible to hire gardeners from the countryside to clear that tangle? I should very much like to see what is actually there."

"Do you like gardens?" He was seated at a low table wearing a comfortable, white robe that was embroidered about the deeply cut open neckline in gold threads, and Persian lapis that matched his eyes.

"I like gardens," she answered him softly.

He waved her forward. "Come and sit by me, Marjallah," and his eyes approved her dress. When she had seated herself next to him he reached out and touched her hair. "I almost expect it to be hot," he said with a half-smile. "It is a most wonderful color. My mother was a Frenchwoman, and she had hair like silvered gold. I always believed that no other color could match it, but now I see I was wrong."

"I know nothing about your land or your people," she said. "Where is the Crimea? What kind of people live there?"

"My land is north of here on the Black Sea, and its peoples migrated long ago out of Asia. We are called Tartars, and yet we are today as different from our brothers to the east as a black man is from a white man. Although our customs have not changed, the appearance of the Crimean Tartars was due to our intermarriage with the women of the region, and of course other women slaves, like my mother, who have come into our possession. Our people are proud, fierce, and loyal. We are herdsmen by both instinct and by our nature. When we settled in the Crimea, however, we began to become men of the cities, too." He slipped an arm about her slender waist. "Do you really want a lesson in the history of my people tonight, Marjallah? Perhaps one thing that you should know about them is that Tartar men are pa.s.sionate and vigorous lovers." He dropped a kiss upon her shoulder.

Her first instinct was to pull away. She was a married woman, but then she forced herself to remain still for her old life was over, and this man was the key to her future. So far he had done nothing to incur either her distrust or dislike. "I have never had any lovers," she said softly.

"Was your husband not your lover?" His mouth lingered warm and teasing upon her skin.

"Yes," she said upon reflection, "he was, wasn't he?"

The prince turned her so that they were facing each other, and then he took her face between his two big hands. "Did he tell you that your eyes reminded him of storm clouds, and the flecks of black and gold within them are like leaves caught in the wind of that storm?"

For a very long moment Aidan thought that she would suffocate for it seemed that she was unable to draw a breath. He had the most incredible bright blue eyes she had ever seen, and he was gazing at her with those eyes. Gazing? No! It was the wrong word. He had caught her with his eyes, and she felt as if she was drowning in his look.

Releasing her face from his grasp he smoothed his hands beneath her bolero, brushing his palms across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as he did so. "And," he continued, "you have skin that is the softest I have ever felt. It is like the finest Bursa silk, Marjallah, smooth, and cool, and flawless to the touch."

Aidan felt her nipples harden beneath the palms of his hands, and her cheeks grew pink and warm. She swallowed, and then was finally able to draw a breath which to her embarra.s.sment only had the effect of rubbing the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his hands. She bit her lip in confusion. G.o.d! She wasn't a maid, and yet he was making her feel like one. Her heart hammered in her ears, and for the briefest moment she thought she might faint. She could not escape his eyes which were now warm with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I think," he said quietly, "that I am going to have to kiss you, my jewel," and then his mouth took complete and total possession of hers.

His lips were firm and warm, and to her great surprise she found her own lips responding to his masterful skill. Gently, but firmly he made his first penetration of her, running his tongue softly across her mouth, coaxing it open to plunge within. The touch of his tongue as it met hers caused a churning of tumultuous sensations to burst within her that reminded her of the strange and wonderful fireworks that she had seen at a court gala. She clung to him to keep from fainting for she felt even closer to it now.

His hands ran through the tangle of her hair, and releasing her head he looked down upon her. The bright blue eyes silently searched her face, asking, to her surprise, not demanding. There was a tenderness about this man, Aidan thought, which startled her. She had not expected it in him for Jinji had done nothing else but babble on about the fierceness of the Tartar men, and the prince himself had just teased her about his race being pa.s.sionate and vigorous lovers. She wanted to please him for unless she did her future was very much in doubt. But then suddenly the image of Conn O'Malley rose up between them, and to her immense horror Aidan burst into tears.

Javid Khan responded instinctively, reaching out to draw her into his arms. Holding her close he allowed her to release the grief that had been pent up within her. Aidan clung to him, sobbing wildly while at the same time the thought drifted through her head that this was not the way to his heart, yet she could not help herself. When at last her misery had run its natural course, and her weeping quieted, she was too embarra.s.sed to raise her head, and huddled against his chest despondently.

Sensing that her sorrow had finally abated Javid Khan said quietly, "I want the truth, Marjallah. For whom do you grieve?"

What difference did it make now? Aidan thought sadly. With a sigh she raised her head to meet his serious glance, and said, "I cry for my husband, my lord."

To her surprise he nodded. "Yes," he said softly to her. "I understand that, my jewel. You loved him, and so now that he is lost to you, you weep for what was. So do I, my jewel, so do I."

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Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 28 summary

You're reading Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Bertrice Small. Already has 1253 views.

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