“It’s beyond terrible, I know. But consider it: She was a beautiful girl and reminded him not only of his childhood playmate, but also his mother. He saw her out, somewhere in town, and was instantly captivated.”
“Do continue,” Colin said. “You know how I enjoy your forays into fiction.”
“He could have bribed someone—one of the guards—to tell him her name. And then to deliver messages. What more revered way is there to fall in love than by being seduced by beautifully written letters?”
“I’ve always been a great supporter of intelligent conversation, but far be it from me to question the value of a well-written missive.”
“And then they began to plot their escape.” I breathed in the most delicious scents—bergamot, ginger, vanilla—as we walked in front of a display of olive oil soaps. “An escape that would never happen because it was discovered, and Ceyden, rather than being allowed to stay alive and shame the sultan with her deviant thoughts, was silenced, to be forever forgotten. Benjamin’s Byzantine cross, which he’d given her as a token of his affection, was torn from her neck as she struggled against her executioners.”
“Deviant is a bit strong, don’t you think?” he asked.
“But you agree that, in theory, it’s possible?”
“We’re not in a position to dismiss any reasonable hypothesis,” he said.
“So you admit it’s reasonable?”
“I may not be ready to own it as reasonable, but will admit to possible. It would explain the strange reaction we’ve had from both the sultan and the government. On the one hand, they want to cooperate with the British, but on the other, they’d very much prefer that this all go away.”
“So they let us into the harem, assuming we’ll find nothing.”
“But you stumble upon the jewelry—”
I cleared my throat. “I did not stumble, my dear. I analyzed the situation and determined the best course of action.”
“
“
“There are times, Emily, when you so capture my imagination that I can only speak in French.”
I reached for his hand, brought it to my lips, and kissed his thumb. “Once Perestu saw that I was close to discovering too much, she notified the sultan and we were summarily denied all further access to the harem.”
“This is the part, my dear, where things begin to fall apart. Perestu’s countenance changed when she realized a piece of her own jewelry was in Ceyden’s cache. If your speculations are correct, shouldn’t that reaction have come the instant you found anything sewn into the gown?”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “There must be something about that particular piece. Perhaps it’s a clue of even more significance than we’d previously thought.”
“How so?”
“It may be the object that links Perestu directly to the murder.”
“Or to Murat’s discontented vizier,” he said. “Perhaps she’s the link between his discontented associates and the harem.”
“So you believe there is a link?” I asked.
“I cannot deny it. Where did Benjamin tell you he was the night of the murder?” I recounted for him our conversation, and Colin shook his head. “I’d hoped he’d have a firm alibi.”
“Do you think he needs it?”
“Let’s hope not.”
A distinguished-looking man stepped out of the shop in front of us. He bowed.
“Mr. Hargreaves, the ambassador told me to expect you. I am Hasan. Welcome. Please, come in. You will have tea?”
Six hours later, we emerged. Colin was wrong about my finding ten carpets. I was not able to narrow my selections below thirteen.
Chapter 13
“I wish we weren’t so far from her,” I said, pacing in front of Colin, waving Ivy’s letter as I walked the terrace where we’d been having breakfast, having to force myself to breathe, fear creeping through my skin. “She needs me.”
“I will contact Robert,” Colin said. “Find out what he knows. If things are serious enough, we can, of course, return home at once.”
I pressed my hands to my temples. “But what of Ceyden?”
“The dead can wait,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “We can come back after the child is born.” He rested his cheek against mine. “I’ve never seen you upset like this. You’re trembling. Try to put your mind at ease. The most likely scenario is that Robert’s response shall relieve all your worries.”
“I want more than anything to believe that,” I said, having little faith it would happen. Ivy was the least alarmist person I’d ever known. Writing such a letter—one that so directly addressed both her condition and her fears—would have mortified her. If anything, she would let me believe things were not so dire as they truly were. “I don’t think I could survive if anything happened to her. She’s been beside me my whole life.”
“You would. I’d make you.”
“I’m not sure I’d thank you for it.”
“You forget how persuasive I can be.” He put his arms around me, but I stiffened instead of relaxing against him. “We must distract you. Worry accomplishes nothing.”
