My companion made no move to stay on the subject. She dropped her voice. “And have you been to the
“I have.”
She nodded. “I am most impressed.”
“Have you visited one in your time here?”
“Never. But I have read Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s
“I read it on the train. She’s absolutely right about the baths.”
“Hundreds of women?”
“Not nearly so many when I was there, but all, as she said, ‘as exactly proportioned as ever any goddess was drawn.’ ”
“I quite liked the bit when she said the women thought her husband had locked her into her stays.”
“Yes, that was amusing,” I said. “You should go see for yourself. It’s an extraordinary experience, and I’m told the Caalou Hamam is the finest public bath in the city. It’s not far from the Blue Mosque—I’d be happy to accompany you if you’d like.”
“To be honest, Lady Emily, I think I’d be more comfortable were I safely anonymous. Don’t think I could begin to relax if anyone I knew might see me.”
“I understand completely. I must say it astonishes me that Ottoman society, which in so many ways is more oppressive than our own, is dotted with pockets of enlightenment.”
“The Ottoman culture is more liberated than ours in many ways,” she said.
“But the women are veiled.”
“That they are. Yet I’ve never seen an instrument of oppression that gives such freedom—it hides their identities and enables them to move about the city visiting whomever they wish—if you understand my meaning.” She glanced to both sides before continuing. “They can meet their lovers wherever they like.”
“Is that so?” My face was hot with embarrassment. I was not yet quite so enlightened as I longed to be.
“I was at least as horrified as you when I first heard the stories. But now I’m rather used to it.” She leaned in, close. “Makes me feel almost French. The Ottoman women keep control of their money after they’re married, you know. And should they find themselves divorced, the husbands must continue to support them.”
“Not at all what I would have expected,” I said. I was about to inquire whether she’d befriended many Ottoman women during her time in the city when we were interrupted by the sound of an ugly altercation at the entrance to the room.
“I will not be accused!” Sir Richard, his hair wild, pushed his way towards the ambassador.
Sir William stepped forward. “No one is making charges. I merely wanted to know—”
“I will not have it!” He lunged as if to shove the other man but lost his footing and tripped. Colin, who had been standing several feet away from me, conversing with a group of gentlemen, reached him in a few swift strides and stopped his fall.
“What’s going on here?” he asked as the partygoers all stood, silence spilling through the room.
“I think it would be best to take this conversation somewhere more private,” Sir William said as Mr. Sutcliffe stepped from the onlookers and made his way to Sir Richard.
“Surely public mortification is unnecessary,” he said. “I will not see my friend humiliated.”
Colin and Sir William stepped aside, speaking quietly before turning back to Sir Richard. “Come with me... ,” Sir William began, but Sir Richard shoved him away and stormed through the crowd, his eyes bulging.
“This is unconscionable,” he said. Mr. Sutcliffe, a beat behind, called after him. With a quick look at the ambassador, Colin caught up, took Sir Richard by the arms, and steered him to an antechamber off the hall. I excused myself to my companion and followed at once.
“What is going on?” I asked.
“We’ve had a rather strange incident,” Mr. Sutcliffe said. “A young man from the hinterlands appeared here this morning asking to see Richard and demanding money.”
“It’s outrageous!” Sir Richard looked on the verge of apoplexy, veins pulsing, sweat building, his color darkening. “I’ve never seen that person before in my life.”
“He claimed he was the one causing trouble at the archaeological site where Benjamin was employed,” the ambassador said. “Wanted us to believe Richard had hired him to scare his son off the job.”
I paused a moment too long before I spoke. “But—”
“I’ve lost even your confidence,” Sir Richard said, looking at me through glazed eyes. Colin put a hand on the older man’s shoulder, steadying him, and led him to a chair.
“I think we need a doctor,” he said.
“No,” Sir Richard said. “My health is of no concern.”
“Your health ought to be of concern. Who will take care of your son if you become infirm?” Mr. Sutcliffe’s face was smooth as marble. “No one can do for him the things his father would.”
“You hear what they accuse me of,” Sir Richard said.
“It might be a good idea to see a doctor—” Sir William was not allowed to finish.
“I said no.” Sir Richard’s voice, full of venom, shook as he spoke. “I’m not ill, I’m upset.”
“Of course you are,” I said. “Will someone get him a drink?”
“Do you understand the implications of this?” He leaned forward, speaking low. “That they would suggest, even for a second, that I would threaten the life of my own son?”
“Where is this man now? My husband can speak to him. I’ve no doubt there’s some other explanation.”
“He’s disappeared,” Mr. Sutcliffe said, coming close. “Made his accusations, and when it became clear he would get no money, he left. I doubt we’ll see him again.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Richard,” the ambassador said. “But you see, don’t you, that I had to ask you questions?”
“I don’t see anything decent in it,” Sir Richard said.
I stepped to my husband’s side and pulled him away from the group. “What do you think of this?” I asked.
“It proves nothing. If Richard had hired the man, he wouldn’t have been so careless about paying him.”
“You think it’s someone else?”
“If it is, we’re unlikely to find the man again. He’s sure to have been paid off for doing this.” He touched my arm. “I should think you’d be relieved at the possibility that Richard isn’t responsible.”
“I’d like to believe that. But he’s so scattered of late, so upset. What if he did forget to pay the man?”
“Then it’s best we forget it all,” Colin said. “The man has enough troubles, and no one was hurt in this scheme.”
“But what if he tries again?”
Chapter 15
“Do you think,” Colin asked, “there has ever been a more badly interrupted wedding trip in the history of matrimony than ours?” We were sitting on our terrace after a late breakfast, watching the water turn steel gray as clouds careened across the sky.
“It seems unlikely,” I said, turning my attention to the chessboard in front of my husband. “How many moves to mate?”
“Two,” he said, staring at me instead of his pieces. “I’d wager we’ve the worst luck ever.”
“Try your bishop to b3,” I said. “I’m of the opinion that you should refrain from entering into any more bets at present. You’re already going to be swimming the Bosphorus.”
“Funny you bring that up. I was just speaking to a seamstress yesterday about diaphanous robes for you.”
“What a shame I won’t get to wear them.”
He knocked over black’s king. “At least you’re good at chess.”
