Page 72 of Marry in Secret
“I only saw a small part of the palace. My men and I were kept in one section—the simplest and plainest. I was held separately from them, and treated better, not just because I was an officer but because I’d stressed that my uncle was a great English lord who’d be happy to pay our ransom. They’re very class-conscious, it turned out, even though it’s not their system. Or maybe it was just the promise of the money.”
“Whichever it was, it was good strategy on your part to claim kinship to a great English lord,” she murmured.
“Strategy, yes.” He glanced down at her. “Isn’t it time for you to go home?”
“No, everyone else is out at a concert. We have plenty of time. Go on.”
“The palace is set high, a magnificent white building overlooking the island and the sea. I detected some European influences. There were big European-style windows, for instance, and some European furniture, though it was just for show, a sign of affluence—chairs that nobody sat in, for instance. They do everything on the floor: sitting, eating, sleeping.”
“It sounds quite primitive.”
“It’s not, not at all, it’s just a different way of living. The interior is like Aladdin’s cave in its riches and beauty. Marvelously colored tile work and extraordinary mosaics, floors and columns of polished marble and other beautiful stone. Both floors and walls were scattered with gorgeous thick carpets and hangings, all in the richest colors, some made of silk.” He’d forgotten about the beauty of the place. His last years had been so ugly, they’d blotted out the marvels he’d seen. And the kindness he’d experienced. Thecaliph had been good to Thomas, insofar as his job allowed.
His voice warmed as he remembered. “There were intricately carved screens over the windows, even the interior ones and some doorways—the most remarkably detailed craftsmanship in both wood and stone. And whole rooms for bathing, with deep tiled pools and carved ceilings.” Even he and his men were given access to a small stone room just for bathing. “I wouldn’t mind something like that here.”
“It all sounds very beautiful and exotic.”
“It was—but don’t forget, it was the sultan’s palace. The ordinary people don’t live like that.”
She circled one of his nipples with her fingernail. “And the ladies of the palace. Were they very beautiful and exotic, too?”
The faintmeowin her voice surprised a chuckle out of him. He rather liked that she could be jealous of unknown foreign ladies. “I didn’t see any.”
“What, none at all?” She didn’t believe him.
“They keep their women hidden from the sight of infidels and strangers. The women lived in one of the other sections of the palace and I didn’t ever see one—not even the caliph’s wife, or wives. I suppose some might have been watching us from behind those screens, women there presumably being as curious as women here,” he added teasingly. She nipped him lightly on the chest in punishment.
“So you saw no women at all in the whole country?”
Just one woman and he preferred not to think about her. “Women in the streets are heavily veiled. All you can see is a pair of dark eyes, and sometimes not even that.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I’d like to be hidden away like that.”
“No, you’re too independent. But”—he shrugged—“different lands, different customs.” He’d been to places where the women went bare-breasted and were thought quite modest by local standards.
The room was dark now, the quiet stillness broken onlyby their voices. It was peculiarly conducive to intimacies, but they were starting to venture into uncomfortable territory. “Isn’t it time to go home now? Aren’t you hungry?”
“No, Emm brought over some delicious food for luncheon and I ate like a pig. What about the food there? You said you were finding it hard to adjust to English food. Was it so very dreadful?”
“Not at all. I ate with the caliph several times and the food was wonderful—very sophisticated and exotic. Most of the time though, my men and I ate very simply—rice, lentils or beans with vegetables, though prepared differently from the way we would have them.”
“Better or worse?”
He thought for a minute. “Better. They use spices, even for the simplest meals.”
“Then why are you having trouble with English food?”
“I’m not. I just find some things a bit rich and fatty, that’s all. Now I really think it’s time we left.”
And he slipped out of bed and groped around for his clothes, cursing under his breath. Either he was going to have to get better at using a blasted tinderbox to light a candle, or he’d need to be tidier with his clothes.
The real solution, he knew, was not to lie in bed so long, talking. Especially about things that... stirred up memories. It was just that Rose was so damned irresistible.
***
They walked back to Ashendon House, enjoying the warm evening. “I hope the weather is like this for the ball,” Rose said. “I’m looking forward to it, aren’t you?”
Thomas didn’t answer. She turned to him with a sudden unwelcome thought. “You can dance, can’t you?”
