A Secret in Her Kiss (25 page)

Selim stepped in front of Bennett and caught the guard’s next blow. “Capture the ambassador.”

Bennett ducked around the fighting men. “Don’t think this absolves you for your part in this.”

Selim grunted as he clumsily blocked an attack. “Your punishment will be nothing compared to what Achilla will do.”

Bennett had no time to ponder that comment. Leaving Talat to Esad’s nonexistent mercy, he pursued Daller into the corridor.

Crimson drops of blood made it easy for Bennett to trace him. The spots stopped at a closed door.

Bennett opened it. A flash to his right provided a split-second warning as a large piece of pottery crashed toward his head. He turned away and blocked at the last second, the jolt hammering through his shoulder and numbing his sword arm. But he’d dealt with far worse on the battlefield. Besides, he would enjoy killing Daller with his bare hands. With a quick adjustment, he dropped his sword, caught Daller with his working arm, and threw him to the ground.

The thud of his fist connecting with Daller’s face filled him with grim satisfaction. It felt just as good as last time. The bastard had tried to kill Mari. He raised his fist again.

“Don’t kill me!” Daller writhed on the floor, holding his cut shoulder. Blood poured down his face from a broken nose.

Bennett reluctantly lowered his arm. As much as the idea appealed to him, he wouldn’t murder the man. He scanned the room and then ripped a sash from the drapes. Flipping the cowering Daller over, Bennett tied his hands and feet. “If you’re lucky, I’ll turn you over to the British justice system rather than the pasha.”

Daller struggled against his bonds. “Your father arranged my appointment. Think of the scandal this will bring on him and your family.”

“My father’s a strong enough man to weather any consequences resulting from this.” Bennett smiled grimly. “Unlike you, he’s spent years building bonds based on trust and honor.”

“But what of your family name? You have a duty to keep it untarnished!”

Bennett checked his knots, then retrieved his sword. “I’ve learned my first duty is to the people I love.” And now he had to find her.

Chapter Thirty-four

T
ilting her head to the side, Mari set down the small sandalwood sapling she was tending and rubbed at the dirt on her fingers.

“What was that?” Achilla asked.

Mari frowned. The commotion sounded like it originated from the far side of the house.

Crack
.

One of the slave girls screamed at the sound of the gunshot.

Unease marred Fatima’s brow as she rose from her embroidery. She waved to the eunuch guarding the door. “Go see what that’s about.”

Mari met Achilla’s gaze. Any distraction worked in their favor. With the eunuch gone—

He raced back in, slamming the door behind him. “Esad Pasha has attacked with an army and he’s brought the English.”

Mari jumped to her feet, despite the sudden weakness in her knees.

Achilla’s eyes widened. “Bennett?”

“It has to be.” She had to get to him. A frantic restlessness threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to let it. If there was fighting, the other servants would be involved or at least distracted. Only the eunuch blocked their freedom. And if he was the only thing standing between her and Bennett, he didn’t stand a chance. “We’ll rush the guard.”

Achilla nodded.

“Just make sure he doesn’t have a chance to—”

“Don’t move.”

Mari turned slowly. Fatima held a dagger clutched with two hands. Her knuckles shone white with the tightness of her grip.

“I need to kill you now.” Her hands trembled but she advanced steadily.

“Fatima—”

“My uncle cannot find you here. I’ll be ruined.” A wild light entered into her eyes. “I have to show him he was mistaken and you’re not here.” But she seemed frozen in place.

Mari seized on her hesitance. “Do you think it’s easy to kill someone?”

Fatima blinked rapidly. “I can do it.”

“Really? Imagine having to force the dagger through all the layers of skin and muscle. And if you hit bone, you will have to stab again.

Fatima swayed slightly. “I’ll do what needs to be done. I refuse to be disgraced.”

“How will you hide the blood?”

Fatima flinched. “Blood?”

“Stabbing is a messy way to kill someone. Blood will be all over you, your caftan, even your carpets. How will you explain that?”

“I— My slaves will clean it up.” She glanced at them, but they’d edged to the corners of the room. The knife in her hands quivered.

“There are two of us and only one of you. We’re not going to stand here while you murder us one at a time,” Mari warned her.

Fatima swallowed. “Well, there are two of us, too.” Her voice quavered. “Eunuch, kill her.”

As the eunuch fumbled for his sword, Mari grabbed the potted sandalwood at her feet and swung it at his head. It connected with a sickening thump. The man fell to the floor in a shower of dirt and pottery shards.

Fatima shrieked and jabbed at Mari. Mari easily deflected the halfhearted attack. She wrenched Fatima’s arm back, and the dagger tumbled to the floor.

“Help me!” Fatima yelled to her slaves, but none of them moved from their safe haven against the wall.

“Now you have two choices.” Mari kept her voice steady, although she throbbed with impatience. “You can go stand with your slaves and let us leave this room unhindered—you did save our lives and I’m prepared to repay that debt, or—”

Achilla snatched up the dagger. “Or
I’ll
stab you through the heart.” She lifted her eyebrow at Fatima’s scoff. “Don’t worry. The blood won’t deter me. Guess I’m nothing but a filthy slave, after all.”

Fatima whimpered. “Don’t forget that I allowed you to escape.”

Mari stared, and Achilla’s mouth dropped open at the woman’s audacity. Fatima yanked her hand free and sauntered to her embroidery, smoothing her skirts around her. A frown puckered her brow as she threaded a needle with ebony silk. Mari didn’t doubt she was already scheming a way to turn this to her advantage.

Mari drew the fallen guard’s sword and dashed over his prone form. On the other side of the door, she crashed into a man’s chest. A wall that smelled of sandalwood.

Bennett.

The sword clanged to the floor as she threw her arms around him. His chest pumped rapidly under her fingers. She resisted as he tried to pry her away. He felt so good, so solid, and so real. She needed to be in his arms so she could be sure she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Looking up at him, she relearned the hard line on his jaw and the faint creases by his eyes.

The ecstatic disbelief in his eyes mirrored her own. His fingers traced slowly over her face. “Mari.” His lips crashed down on hers with a force that might have been painful if it hadn’t matched the desperation churning within her.

Threading her fingers though his hair, she arched against him, desperate for what she’d dreamed of these past months.

“Yes,” Mari whispered against his lips.

Bennett pulled back. “Yes?”

“Yes. I will marry you.”

Bennett grinned and kissed her again. His eyes still crinkled when they paused to breathe. “I don’t recall asking you again.”

She glared at him. “You’re lucky I charged out of the room with the sword at my side rather than in front of me.”

He caressed her cheek. “I am feeling remarkably lucky at the moment. You’ll marry me then? If you don’t want to return to England, we don’t have to. In fact— ”

Achilla’s throat cleared. “You know I favor all things amorous, but it sounds as if there’s a war proceeding in the other room.”

The lightheartedness disappeared from Bennett’s face. “Stay here.”

Mari retrieved her sword. The kiss must have deprived his brain of oxygen. There was no way she’d be left behind. “Is it true? Did Esad truly come with you to free me?”

He eyed her sword and sighed. “Yes, he came to free you, but Selim brought him, not I.”

“Selim?” Achilla darted down the corridor in the direction of the chaos. “The stodgy man will get himself killed. What is he thinking?”

They followed Achilla down the hall. The noise quieted as they approached. Mari’s heart hammered in her chest as they turned the corner.

Esad stood over Talat’s limp form. The fighting around them had stopped. Esad’s soldiers held what remained of Talat’s men at sword point.

Esad sheathed his sword when he saw her. “Mari?”

She started to run to him but stopped short, not daring to throw her arms around him as she longed to do. She awaited his reaction, her hands clenched so tightly at her sides the crescents of her nails bit into her flesh.

Esad closed the distance and gripped her in a hearty hug. “I never wanted you dead. Never.” He released her. “But I still cannot allow you to stay.”

She looked at Bennett. It didn’t matter where she went as long as it was with him. Well, as long it wasn’t England. Yet even that prospect no longer seemed horrendous.

Perhaps she could be convinced to visit.

Behind them Achilla screeched. “
You
betrayed us? How could you give information to Talat?” She stood beside Selim.

Selim bowed his head. “I was still angry at Sir Reginald for having me thrown into prison when they first approached me. At first it was simple information, just the daily occurrences in the household. By the time I realized they were using the information to hurt Mari, it was too late. I tried to free myself, but they said they’d hurt you if I stopped.”

“I can obviously take care of myself. Why were you fool enough to keep helping them?”

Selim hung his head. “They also said they’d tell you about my past.”

“Then you are doubly a fool. I don’t care about your past.”

“I was a slave trader.”

Achilla paled. “You— No.”

Mari’s heart ached for her maid. Selim’s sin might be the one thing a former slave could never forgive.

Behind the anguished couple, Talat moved slowly on the ground. He aimed a pistol at Esad with an unsteady hand.

Mari gasped.

Everyone’s attention jerked in the direction of her gaze.

As Talat’s finger tightened on the trigger, Mari threw herself in front of Esad. Her body slammed into the wall. Blinking at the blackness that fogged her vision, she tried to gasp at the pain in her chest but couldn’t draw a breath.

Bennett crouched beside her. “Mari?” His fingers caressed her cheek.

“What were you thinking?” Esad roared.

Mari finally managed to breathe. She inhaled again, but this time it wasn’t exceptionally painful. Bennett helped her sit. Her hands searched her chest. She hadn’t been shot.

“Did you have to throw her against the wall?” Bennett asked.

“She didn’t exactly give me time to plan a softer landing,” Esad said.

Bennett ran his hands over her body, checking for injuries. She contemplated inventing a few just to keep his hands there.

But what had happened? Talat had fired. No matter how fast Esad had reacted, he couldn’t have moved faster than the bullet.

She stared at Talat. The man lay still, Bennett’s sword protruding from his chest. But not even Bennett could have reached the bey fast enough.

Achilla’s pained cry drew everyone’s attention. She crouched over Selim’s prone form. Tears streamed down the maid’s cheeks.

He would have been the only one close enough to stop the bullet. When Mari tried to rise, Bennett rested a hand on her shoulder. “Leave them.”

Selim reached for Achilla. “I’ve loved you since that day I bought you in the market. I’m sorry I wasn’t worthy to accept your love when you offered it.” His eyes closed.

“Selim, curse you. Why must everyone try to fling themselves in front of bullets?” Her question ended in a sob. “I loved you, too. I would have forgiven you.” She buried her head on his chest.

Esad cleared his throat. “He’s all right.”

“No, it’s not all right. Nothing will ever be right again,” Achilla wailed.

“No,” Bennett clarified. “He’s all right, as in not dead.”

“What?” Achilla lifted her head.

“In case you didn’t notice, the bullet caught him in the arm. I expect he passed out from the pain.”

“Did you mean what you said, Achilla?” Selim’s voice was thready, but definitely alive.

Horror dawned on Achilla’s face. “Not anymore, you despicable son of a three-legged camel.”

But Selim smiled as he again closed his eyes.

Esad ordered several of his men to carry the butler back to the pasha’s house. Achilla followed along behind them, her hands planted on her hips.

Bennett pulled Mari onto his lap and clasped her in a crushing embrace. “Perhaps you should try feeling less loyalty to your friends from now on.”

“Sorry,” she whispered. “But I remain by the ones I love.” She drew a deep breath. “Even if it’s in England.”

Bennett frowned. “You wouldn’t mind visiting?”

She shook her head. “No, we can live there.”

He kissed her slowly and deeply. Desire hummed through her body.

“Thank you for that but—”

Esad cleared his throat, interrupting Bennett. Mari would have leaped out of Bennett’s arms if he’d let her, but he kept his arms snugly around her waist. Heat rushed her cheeks as Esad studied them with interest.

“So you’ll marry her?” Esad asked.

Bennett nodded. “Yes.” He turned to her. “I want you to be my wife not because I have orders or feel obligated, but because I love you.”

Mari’s heart skipped at the simple admission. “I love you, too.”

Bennett caught her chin. “You believe me then? Because I refuse to marry you until you do. My first and only duty is to you.”

She stroked the worried lines from his forehead, grateful she didn’t fear the words she was about to speak. “Yes, I trust you.

Esad sighed. “You know I won’t be able to give you the dowry, Mari. I cannot allow it.”

She leaned into Bennett. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. I never wanted your money.”

A slight curve lit Esad’s mouth. “But giving it to my first grandchild . . . that becomes more of a gray area.” The smile faded and Esad grimaced as he looked around. “You two must leave. I need to justify this mess and it’ll be much easier if I don’t have a live dead woman and a British major to explain. The ambassador?”

“Alive.” Bennett answered.

Esad frowned. “Pity.” He ordered two of his men to take the ambassador back to his house and stand watch over him. “Shall I handle him?”

Bennett shook his head. “No, unfortunately, I think the man must stand trial in England.”

“And my niece, I suppose she was involved with this?”

Mari bit her lip, debating what to tell Esad. “She saved my life.”

Esad grunted. “For her own selfish reasons, no doubt. That girl’s run wild long enough. I’ve long thought she’d do well as a border captain’s wife.” He hugged Mari. “You are not welcome back here, but perhaps one day we can come to you.”

Bennett led Mari out of the house to the ambassador’s coach and gave orders to the driver.

“You said these are too slow,” Mari said.

Bennett grinned and tossed her inside. “Yes, but so much more private.”

He climbed in behind her and laid her back on the bench. He kissed her lips, eyes, and neck as if each feature were infinitely precious. She sighed, savoring the sincerity in each caress. When he kissed her like this, it was impossible to doubt that she was the most important thing in his life. She moaned and pulled him more tightly against her.

He shuddered. “I thought I’d lost you, sprite.”

She bucked as his fingers found her breast. “Do you really see me like the sprite in the poem?”

She felt his smile against her cheek. “You’re the one who pointed out I can’t write unless I’m inspired.”

She loosened his shirt from his trousers and ran her hands over his smooth, hot skin. Oh, she’d longed for this. “
Passionate
is the word I think I used.”

Bennett groaned when her lips found the spot on the base of his throat. She intended to find many more such spots over the next few days.

“I won’t let you out of my sight again. You’ll grow quite sick of me in fifty years, I imagine,” Bennett warned.

“Only fifty? That’s not nearly enough.” She smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you’ll have even convinced me to like England by then.” She unfastened the smooth brass buttons on his jacket to gain better access to his body.