refusing to give into the wicked urgings of her sinful body. He
would bend her to his wil and then discard her.
‘No! You shal not bewitch me, sir! I do not know what arts
you would employ, but I shal not succumb to them.’
Suleiman’s mouth twitched at the corners, releasing her as if
her defiance amused him—and his amusement made her temper
flare. Did he think himself too powerful to be resisted? She leapt
to her feet, facing him defiantly.
‘Please send me back to the harem—or to the kitchens.
Since I am not to be returned to my family, I would prefer to
work in the kitchens as Morna does.’
Suleiman’s gaze narrowed. ‘You do not know of what you
speak, foolish woman. Is it that you would prefer to bed with
one of the Janissaries? You would not long remain untouched in
the kitchens—ask Morna if you do not believe me.’
‘I wish only to be free!’
‘My patience wears thin,’ he replied. ‘I have told you that
you are to be honoured in a very special way—and yet you stil
refuse to be pacified. I could have you punished, woman. Shal I
summon Abu?’
‘Is that the eunuch who brought me here?’ Eleanor shivered.
‘I do not like him—he is evil.’
‘I do not like him—he is evil.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her words echoed a feeling long held
by Suleiman without truly knowing why. ‘Explain yourself.’
‘I—I do not know,’ she confessed. ‘It is only an intuition—
but I sense that he likes to punish others. I think him cruel and
sly…’
‘Yes, he is sly,’ Suleiman agreed. ‘I have known it before
now. I confess I do not like the creature—but I shal not have
him frighten you. He shal be given other duties.’
‘Thank you…you are kind, my lord.’
‘I would be much kinder to you if you would be as kind to
me.’
The husky tone of Suleiman’s voice made Eleanor tremble
inside. She drew a deep breath, knowing that he had already
indulged her beyond what was normal for a man in such a
position as his. Even in her own land very few men would show
as much patience as this one had.
‘I would be your friend if you wished it,’ she said after a
moment’s thought. ‘If you wished for someone to help you
decipher your manuscripts, I would copy them in a fair hand.
And I often helped my father when he was researching some
legend he wished to authenticate.’
‘You can write a legible hand—one that others can read?’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘My own writing is very smal,’ he replied. ‘Kasim told me
anyone else would need spectacles to read it—he could not read
it himself. Are you able to decipher smal lettering?’
‘Yes, my lord. I can read Latin and Arabic, but I fear I have
‘Yes, my lord. I can read Latin and Arabic, but I fear I have
not yet mastered Greek. It was my hope to learn when we were
settled in Cyprus.’
‘I might teach you,’ Suleiman said. ‘If it pleased me—but you
would have to please me, my lady.’
Eleanor raised her head, her face proud and haughty. ‘I do
not bargain for my honour, sir.’
‘You are too proud and wilful,’ he cried, a flash of temper in
his eyes because she stil defied him after al the concessions he
had made her. ‘Go back where you came from before I change
my mind and send for Abu to punish you after al!’
Eleanor knew that she had angered him as he turned and
went into the adjoining chamber, leaving her alone. She hesitated
for a moment, then she too turned and walked back the way she
had come.
What would he do next? He had said that he would never
ransom her to her family, but perhaps if she could do him some
service—but he was angry with her now. He had caled her
proud and wilful, and she knew that was true—it had ever been
her way. Her father had indulged her, and she had always shown
him her obedient face, for she’d had no reason to defy him.
Perhaps she ought to have spoken more diplomaticaly to
Suleiman Bakhar. He was clearly a reasonable man—though she
had caught a glimpse of the other side of his nature just for a
moment.
He was capable of anger, that she knew. How close had she
come to being punished? She could not be sure. He had walked
away from her after his threat, but supposing he changed his
mind—supposing he had her beaten with the whips he had
spoken of?
A shiver ran through Eleanor and she knew a moment of fear.
Would she be as brave if her master had her beaten? Would she
be able to face him so proudly in the future?
And yet there was a little voice in her head that told her
Suleiman admired her spirit. She had seen his eyes gleam with
inner amusement when she defied him. Why was that? He had
absolute power over his harem. Why should he have tried to
persuade her?
He could simply have had her prepared for his bed and then
he could have forced her to become his concubine. Why had he
not done so?
Eleanor sensed that he was a complicated man, that perhaps
there was a battle going on inside him. He was, after al, the son
of an English gentlewoman. Could it be that he was not
completely at ease in the world in which he lived?
Was it possible that he saw the evil of slavery, but could not
deny his heritage?
Suleiman was the Caliph’s favourite son and his heir. To deny
the very foundations of his life would be to throw al the benefits
of rank and privilege away—to deny his very being. And yet she
had sensed restlessness in him, a desire for something more than
he had…yet what was there that a man like Suleiman Bakhar
could not have with a snap of his fingers?
It was clear that the Caliph was extremely wealthy, and that
It was clear that the Caliph was extremely wealthy, and that
his son was equaly so—and yet she had sensed a need in him.
Perhaps if he sent for her again she would try to reach that inner
being…through talking of things that must interest him.
Eleanor knew much that might catch the attention of a man
who wished to learn more of the world outside his own—but
would he listen to a woman?
Women were considered so much less than men in this world
to which she had been brought against her wil. Even in her own
world there were few men who were interested in a woman’s
thoughts—it was beauty that was prized and a sweet temper.
Her own father had been an exception, and she should not
look to find his like again, especialy here. It was foolish to
imagine that Suleiman Bakhar might respect her for her
inteligence—might choose her company simply to study and
talk.
Eleanor’s heart was heavy as she recaled the times she had
ridden and played with her brother when they were both much
younger. In later years she had studied with Richard…where
was he now? She felt tears sting h
er eyes. She had been lucky to
be brought here and she could only pray that Richard had also
found a master who would be kind to him.
She blinked back her tears, knowing she must not dwel on
her brother’s plight or the happiness they had known as children.
She might never see Richard again, but perhaps she might find
companionship with Suleiman. No, that was only a dream. She
would be a fool to let herself be swayed by it.
If Suleiman sent for her again…it would be to force her to his
If Suleiman sent for her again…it would be to force her to his
bed.
And what would she do then?
Chapter Five
Eleanor was sitting in the gardens with three of the other women that evening when she saw Karin coming towards them. The
older woman smiled and nodded approvingly.
‘You are beginning to make friends,’ she said as she reached
them. ‘That is good, Eleanor.’
‘Yes, it is,’ Eleanor said and smiled at the three women who
had been brave enough to ignore Fatima’s orders and approach
her. ‘Anastasia has been teling me of her life in Russia, and
Elizabetta is from the north of Spain—and Rosamunde is
Venetian. We have much in common, and since we al speak a
little French and a little Italian there is no barrier.’
‘That is fortunate,’ Karin replied. ‘I am glad you have taken
my advice, Eleanor. You wil need friends if you are to be happy
living here—but I am pleased to tel you that your request has
been granted.’
‘My request?’ Eleanor looked puzzled for a moment, then
nodded as a feeling of excitement gripped her. ‘I asked for pen
and paper—have I permission for these items?’
‘It is much better than that,’ Karin replied with an indulgent
look. ‘Come with me and I shal show you. You may return to
your friends later if you wish.’
Eleanor folowed her obediently. Karin was in charge of the
harem ladies, but she did not try to assert her authority in an
unkind way, and Anastasia had told her that the older woman
was very kind when any of the women were il or distressed.
‘She is our comforter,’ Anastasia had told her. ‘When I was
brought here I wanted to die, but Karin showed me that life in
this place can be good and now I am content. My lord has only
sent for me once, and since then I have been left to live a life of
ease. If I had remained in Russia I would have been servant to a
lady of the nobility, and here I have a much better life.’
‘But do you not miss your family?’
‘They were al kiled in the raid on our vilage,’ Anastasia
replied simply, with no sign of emotion. ‘Only the young women
and boys were spared to be taken as slaves.’
‘Did that not make you hate the people who took you
prisoner?’
‘Yes—but they were pirates and thieves. Our master is a
good man and we are treated fairly.’ Anastasia sighed. ‘I was a
gift from a merchant to the Caliph, who gave me to his son—but
I did not please Suleiman and he has no use for me. I content
myself with helping the others—and Karin sends for me when
anyone is il, because I have a little skil in nursing. My life is ful, for though I have no children of my own I sometimes see the
children of others playing. I should have liked to give the lord
Suleiman a son—he has two daughters, but no woman has yet
given him a son.’
It was obvious that Anastasia was saddened that her master
did not summon her to his bed, and Eleanor wondered at it. Why
did not summon her to his bed, and Eleanor wondered at it. Why
was it that most of the ladies seemed eager to please Suleiman
Bakhar? They had told her that he often watched them from a
window above their garden, and that they al paraded back and
forth along that particular path in the hope that he would notice
them and send for them that night.
For a moment Eleanor recaled the treachery of her own
body as he had kissed her softly on the lips. The sweetness of
that kiss had surprised her, and aroused a longing for something
that she did not understand, robbing her of the wil to resist him.
She had felt as though he cast a magic spel over her by some
sorcery—was it this that made so many of the harem women
eager for his notice? It was certain that every woman in the
harem would have felt honoured to be sent for by her master.
Yet did they not feel the shame of being his concubine—did they
not fret at being bound to him by slavery?
Eleanor’s ponderings were brought to an abrupt end as she
saw what had happened in her absence. An exquisite desk and
chair of French design had been placed in her sitting room, and
upon it lay a leather-bound journal with pristine pages of cream
velum, writing quils, ink in a pewter pot, and a large pile of
papers with close writing upon them.
‘What are these?’ Eleanor cried, pouncing on them with glee.
‘They are in Latin, I think—and the writing is very smal.’
‘Our master has sent these scripts for you to decipher and
copy into a fair hand,’ Karin told her. ‘They are his own work,
done some years ago when he was a student, and he can no
longer make out the lettering. He asks that you transcribe them
for him—into English or Latin, whichever pleases you.’
‘Oh, what treasure,’ Eleanor exclaimed joyfuly clutching the
papers. ‘I wish to thank Suleiman Bakhar—how may I do so?’
‘By doing what he has asked,’ Karin replied, an odd smile on
her lips. It had seemed a strange request to her, and even
stranger that Suleiman should choose to answer it in this way—
but now she saw that perhaps he had found a way to soften
Eleanor’s heart. ‘I have been told by our new chief eunuch that it
was not an order but a request.’
She sounded a little puzzled and Eleanor looked at her
curiously. ‘Is it usual for our lord to request such things?’
‘He always asks respectfuly when he wishes to speak to
me,’ Karin replied. ‘But I am not of his own harem. It is more
usual for Suleiman to order than ask…and there is another
strange thing. Abu has been transferred from his duties in the
harem to the Caliph’s storehouses, where he is to be in charge of
ordering supplies for the palace.’
‘Is that a demotion to a less important position?’ Eleanor
asked, remembering the odd expression on Suleiman’s face
when she had said she did not like the eunuch.
‘No—for it involves much responsibility, and a chance for
Abu to better his standing. He might even become wealthy if he
chooses to trade with the merchants on his own behalf.’ Karin’s
eyes narrowed as she looked at Eleanor. ‘I have long distrusted
Abu and I would have had him removed from his duties here
before this had I dared—but he is a dangerous enemy, Eleanor.
If he believes that this change was due to interference from one
If he believes t
hat this change was due to interference from one
of the women…she might have to watch her back very carefuly
in future. Especialy if she should lose the favour of our lord, for
then no one would care or notice if she disappeared.’
‘I only said that I did not like him,’ Eleanor replied. ‘Our lord
asked me what I meant, but I could not tel him—it was just a
feeling that Abu liked to hurt others.’
‘Yes, that is very true,’ Karin replied. ‘I have suspected him
of inflicting punishment for his own pleasure in the past, but the
victims were always too afraid to speak. If I had had proof I
could have gone to Suleiman—but it seems you have achieved
more in one hour than I in six years…’
‘Oh, no…’ Eleanor blushed and looked down. ‘I am sure it
was not a chance remark of mine that made Suleiman Bakhar
change Abu’s duties—he must have had it in mind to do so.’
‘Yes, perhaps you are right,’ Karin said. She knew that
Suleiman had sent for Fatima that night, and that surely meant
that Eleanor had not appealed to his sensual nature. He would
not have moved his chief eunuch from the harem simply because
a woman had voiced a dislike of him—or would he? The gift of
writing materials was a very generous one, and Karin had never
known it to happen before. ‘I dare say it was as you say—and it
would be best to mention nothing of what has passed between us
here. I shal tel others that you have been ordered to do this
work, because Suleiman has no other scribe fit to do it since his
teacher left.’
‘The lord Suleiman’s teacher…was his name Kasim?’
‘The lord Suleiman’s teacher…was his name Kasim?’
‘Yes. What do you know of him?’
‘Suleiman mentioned his name, that is al,’ Eleanor replied. ‘I
had the feeling that something had happened…something that
made him sad.’
‘Saidi Kasim is dying of an incurable disease,’ Karin told her.
‘He was in great pain and asked permission to go home. The
lord Suleiman granted it to him—but he misses him, for they
were great friends.’
‘Was Saidi Kasim a slave?’
‘In the beginning,’ Karin replied. ‘But he was a wise man and
had much learning. Suleiman valued him and gave him great
honours. Kasim was a humble man who did not wish for the
riches of life, but he could have had whatever he wanted had he