hamam. All that steam loosens their tongues.” When I did not reply, he narrowed his snapping dark eyes and gave me a droll look of scrutiny. “Don’t tell me your father hasn’t let you visit a bathhouse,” he said. “It’s an essential part of being in Istanbul to submit to the steaming and scrubbing and pummeling. You won’t know yourself, Mistress Paula. It would give me immense pleasure to introduce you to the delights of the hamam personally, but unfortunately I am too much of a man for that.”
I felt my blush flame still brighter. “This is most unseemly,” I spluttered. “
“Master Teodor? I am not ready to speak to him yet. I came here to offer you an apology.”
I gaped at him. “For what?”
His hand went up, long-fingered, elegant, to touch the red scarf. “For this,” he murmured.
“It wasn’t a gift,” I said. “If you feel sorry for taking it, all you need to do is give it back.”
“I suppose I could do that. I find myself disinclined to part with it. It has become something of a good-luck charm, Mistress Paula. I think I will retain this little part of you for myself, to hold close.”
That sent a shiver through me, mostly unease but, I was forced to recognize, partly pleasure as well. I could not help feeling just a little flattered. “I want you to leave,” I made myself say. “Please.”
“Am I embarrassing you?”
“Of course not,” I lied. “But you must know how wrong it is for me to receive you up here on my own. It’s not as if we’re talking business.”
“Ah!” He came down off the railing in a graceful movement and stood before me, perfectly relaxed in his good, plain clothes and his highly polished leather boots. The red scarf did set off his manly beauty rather well. “So business is allowed? Then let us speak of that. Your father has brought a cargo of hides, furs, grain, yes? I’m not dealing in those. I want to know what he’s come to buy.”
My heart gave a lurch. “You have goods for sale?” I asked, squashing the response that sprang to my lips—
“None at all,” Duarte said, spreading his hands with a shrug. “But I think Master Teodor and I may be in competition for a certain item. I understand he is making a series of visits. As his assistant—that is what I have heard you are—you might perhaps be able to provide me with further details. If I ask nicely.” He smiled again, a look I suspected had been practiced on young women for years and years with devastating results. I wished I had listened all those times when my sister Iulia had tried to give me tips on dealing with men; her advice would have come in handy right now.
“There’s a way these things are done, Senhor Aguiar,” I told him, surreptitiously wiping my clammy hands on my skirt. “And this is not the way. Have you never heard of confidentiality? I thought you were a trader—that is, when you are not pursuing your other activities.”
His gaze altered; it became suddenly dangerous. “And what activities might those be?” The tone was like silk wrapped around a blade.
Piracy. Stealing. Murder. “I’ve heard certain things. Enough to know I cannot do business with you, senhor. I’ll wish you good day. I will tell my father you called.” I made to walk away along the gallery, but suddenly he was there, not blocking my path exactly, for if this man was anything, he was subtle, but somehow making it too awkward for me to get past.
“Not so fast,” the pirate said. “I can’t have wild rumors spread about, especially not if they reach the ears of lovely young women such as yourself. What exactly did you hear about me, and—”
“Senhor Aguiar!” The confident female voice cut Duarte’s speech short. We turned to see the woman from the courtyard walking along the gallery toward us, her pace unhurried, her eyes fixed on my companion. There was an expression in them that could only be described as withering. “At your age, have you not grown weary of playing silly games with vulnerable young women? We’ll bid you good day. Mistress Paula has an appointment with me.”
The pirate surprised me by sketching a mocking half bow, then obeying without a word. At the top of the steps, he turned his head and gave me a wave and a crooked smile. A moment later he was gone.
“Thank you,” I said uncertainly. “Do we have an appointment?” I tried to recall whether Father had expected any more visitors today.
“Officially, no, though I did obtain Maria’s opinion that you would be prepared to receive me. It appeared to me that Senhor Aguiar might be embarrassing you; I know the man well enough to read his moves. I hope you didn’t mind being rescued.”
“No, I welcomed it. Are you a friend of Maria’s?”
“How remiss of me. I am so sorry! My name is Irene of Volos. Maria told me you were here in Istanbul with your father, of whom I have heard many good things. She tells me you are something of a scholar.”
Irene of Volos. That explained a lot. No wonder Duarte had obeyed her without question, though he had ignored my requests for him to leave. “I’m honored to meet you,” I murmured. “May I offer you some tea?”
At closer quarters, her Greek descent was more evident. It was in the patrician nose with its slight downturn and the confident carriage. Her sloe-dark eyes were rimmed in artful black. Her brows had been expertly shaped. Behind her, the eunuch had come silently up to the gallery and stationed himself near the steps.
“Tea?” She gave a rueful smile. “To tell you the truth, I am awash with it after a morning’s visiting. Let us sit down here and talk a little, Paula. Maria says you have been very busy helping your father with his business. I like that. Most men would not be prepared to allow a young woman to take such responsibility, however much aptitude she showed. You speak excellent Greek.”
“Thank you.” I was assessing her earrings, which hung to striking effect down her long, graceful neck. Those were not pieces of faceted glass but real emeralds. The pearls were the size of quail’s eggs. “I do love reading and study. I’m more of a scholar than a merchant.”
Irene smiled. “Don’t underrate yourself, Paula. Wasn’t that Alonso di Parma I saw leaving not long ago with a self-satisfied look on his face?”