Dangerous Weakness (20 page)

Chapter 32

Berber women chattered like women anywhere, sharing hot sweet tea and nibbling figs and dates. The latter, Lily surmised were a treat, having come from off-island with Rais Hamidou.

When Richard had been led away, two other women had crowded into the little hut, bringing treats. Their generosity touched Lily. The eyes of all three were avid with curiosity. Lily’s grasp of the language had not progressed enough to understand all of the rapid talk, but they appeared to bear her little ill will.
At least not immediately
.

If the fabric of her gown and shawls interested them, her red hair fascinated. All four touched and smoothed both hair and gown while Lily forced herself to be still.

Generosity doesn’t mean they wouldn’t sell me to the slavers in a heartbeat. If Richard fails—
She couldn’t bring herself to finish that thought. As if disturbed by her mother’s emotions, the baby began to kick.

The women smiled at that and burst into chatter again. One word dominated talk that followed.
Baby
, Lily suspected. With simple words in Berber, a smattering of Turkish and gestures, the women made it clear they wanted to know how far along she was. She held up seven fingers and said “month” in Turkish, then “moon,” in case they didn’t understand.

The oldest one clucked and shook her head. She said something to the woman who brought food, the youngest of them, who seemed to have the best command of Turkish.

“It will be soon, then,” the young woman said.

Tears sprung to Lily’s eyes.
Soon
. Even if Richard’s negotiations went well, she doubted rescue would come soon. Regret flooded into her. She regretted the foolish notion to leave the Seraglio. She regretted leaving England. She regretted resisting Richard’s proposal in the first place.
I’ve put you in danger, little one. I am sorry.

The older woman reached out and took Lily’s hand. She spoke in soothing tones.

“She says you must miss your sisters and aunts,” the younger woman said, and Lily realized with a pang she had none. She thought of Georgiana Mallet and her friend the Countess of Chadbourn.
I should have gone to them. More regret.

The young woman didn’t notice her deepening sadness. “Not to worry, English lady, we will help. This woman”—she indicated the older woman patting Lily’s hand—“my grandmother, has helped with many babies. Many.”

A midwife?
Lily looked at her more closely.

Before Lily could reply, another woman barged in. Of indeterminate age and fierce expression, she wore a red headdress with a chain of coins looped across it as a sign of wealth. She must have held some position of importance because the others quickly moved aside, deferring to her. She barked some harsh words, only one of which Lily understood—infidel again. Clearly, she did not approve of kindness to a captive.

The old woman glowered at the intruder and then smiled sadly at Lily. Lily found herself smiling back. She took Lily’s smile for permission and put both hands on Lily’s belly. She began to probe. She had Lily stand and pull her gown taut so she could see how the baby lay. She helped Lily onto her back on the bed platform and probed again. Finally satisfied, the old grandmother sat back on her heels and nodded cheerfully.

The woman in the red headdress snarled at the grandmother. The grandmother answered in a gentler tone. The only word Lily recognized was the word for baby.

The youngest woman glanced nervously at the angry woman, leaned closer to Lily, and whispered, “Grandmother says all is well, but baby is not ready yet. Soon.”

“What did the other one say?” Lily asked. The girl merely shook her head.

The coins on the woman’s red headdress jangled when she turned and left as abruptly as she came, apparently satisfied with what she came to find out. The other women visibly relaxed.

Soon. At least it isn’t early.
She found this strange grandmother’s attention as reassuring as the woman in red had been unnerving. She untied one of the silk shawls from around her shoulder and handed it to the older woman.

The grandmother beamed. She nodded repeatedly. Her thanks needed no translation.

Thank God for the kindness of these women. I’m going to need them.

A ripple of excitement among the women, a subtle shift in the emotional pool around her, alerted Lily to Richard’s return. She longed to turn and demand a report on his discussion with Rais Hamidou, but her new young friend held her still.

She saw the girl glance briefly toward the door, but the girl’s hands held her still while she tugged on the headdress she had arranged on Lily’s head. She gave the two curls on either side of Lily’s face a swift pat and smiled at her handiwork.

“Your man has returned, Lady,” she whispered in Lily’s ear. Lily smiled back. “I had better make myself agreeable, no?” The girl translated to the older women who cackled knowingly. They rose with no further delay and fluttered to the door with sly smiles and Lily’s silk shawls.

Lily stood to face Richard. His fierce expression made her look away and make a show of smoothing the bright Berber sash she had gotten in exchange for her finery.

“If they stole from you, I—”

“No one stole from me. Communicating with those women helps our cause. The great Marquess of Glenaire does not need to fix my part in it. What happened with Hamidou?”

“You gave them your shawls? Why would you do that?

“Under the circumstances, all that silk felt perfectly useless. It snagged every time I moved. Besides, they admired it.”

Richard’s brows rose.
The poor man looks confused, and that irritates him.

“I got this practical sash in exchange. See how it holds up my skirts from the dust.” She swirled to show him.

“I can see your ankles,” he complained.

“You don’t like my ankles?” She could see from his face that he liked the sight very much.

“I don’t like every man in this village ogling your ankles.”

“Silly. I’m too big to attract any man’s eyes.”

The look he gave her caused heat to run from between her breasts and up her neck to her cheeks. “I beg to differ,” he rasped.

Lily put her hands on her face to cool her cheeks. “Besides, I’m locked in here.”

“No longer. We’re to have the run of the island.”

“What on earth has changed? What happened with Rais Hamidou? Did you convince him to let us go?”

“No. I can’t work wonders, Lily.” His bleak expression struck her in the heart. “I can only negotiate. At least I know how to do that much.” He avoided her eyes.

Lily sucked in the breath she didn’t know she held.
The man is doing his best to fix things, Lily. He’ll hate himself if his best isn’t good enough. He’ll hate himself if harm comes to you.
The realization roiled her emotions ever further, comfort warring with fear for him. She swallowed hard and forced herself to stand straight, chin high.

“If you could negotiate, then all is well. No one does it better,” she said.

Richard looked at her then, gratitude clear in his expression.

“We did negotiate,” he said. “There is to be ransom.” He outlined Hamidou’s terms.

“Sixty days?” She asked breathlessly. “Do you think it will take that long?” She didn’t dare ask, “
Do you think it will come in time?”

“We have to pray it doesn’t take longer,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

“The baby won’t wait that long,” she told him.

Anguish twisted his face. “I can’t help it. It may be faster if response comes from Gibraltar directly and word does not have to get to England. If the government responds quickly maybe, but there are no guarantees—” He looked as if he meant to say more.

No guarantees they would respond at all.
Lily didn’t need to have him spell it out.

Lily put a hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, Richard. You can’t fix everything. Our daughter will be born when she is ready, here or on our way to England. We can’t possibly make it to London in time.”

His arms went around her, and he pulled her close. “I’m sorry I can’t do better. I have no idea about childbirth, but I’ll do my best to see to you.”

That statement and the image it conveyed made her chuckle, laughter bubbling up from deep inside. “Foolish man. I don’t believe childbirth is your expertise either. I will manage the thing.”

“So you like to say.” His worried frown didn’t lighten.

“In this case I’m right. I have to be. The women will help. That young woman’s grandmother is a midwife. You will remember my efforts to build a bridge to them.”

He jerked his head up. “I won’t have some village peasant assisting in the birth of my son!”

“What do you propose? You can’t transport some Mayfair accoucheur here on time, even if you could convince one to come.”

He opened his mouth to argue, and she shut it with a kiss. She snuggled her head against his shoulder. The words he spoke at Chadbourn Park came back to her. “
There is nothing I can't manage if I have all the facts.” This must be killing him.
“No one expects you to do the impossible,” she murmured.

“I do,” he growled.

She listened while his heart slowed.

“You kissed me,” he said moments later.

“I did.” Lily smiled against his shirt.

He took her face in his hands, sliding long fingers under her side curls. She waited for his kiss. When he paused, uncertain, she said, “I won’t break, Richard, as you discovered on the ship. Kiss me.”

He covered her lips with his and kissed her gently until she opened to allow his tongue to explore more deeply. When he tried to pull away, she held him close.

“There’s one thing I know you do very well. You did say we’re as good as married.”

His eyes widened.
I’ve shocked him.

“You’re inviting me? What about the baby?”

“I learned many useful things in the Seraglio. One is that there is no reason to forego all lovemaking.” She looked at her expanded girth. “You just have to be careful.”

The poor man looks poleaxed.
She watched emotion play across his face: desire, hope, and then caution.

“No reason except a village full of curious people, bright sunshine, and an ever-open door.”

He took a step away, but held tight to her hand. “Walk with me, wife. It appears we’re to have the freedom of the island as long as we don’t attempt to escape.”

“Should we? Escape, that is.”

“Ask me after I’ve had a look at the island. I suspect not, or he wouldn’t allow the freedom.” He led her toward the flimsy cloth that served as a door. “Besides, we need to continue the conversation tonight. After dark. When the village sleeps.”

His look, full of passion and promise, made her knees week.

“See, little one,” she murmured, “your father is a clever man.”

He took her hand and led her outside. No guard stood at the door.

“What else did they say while you negotiated?”

“A lot I didn’t understand. The one word I do understand is becoming too familiar—
kafir
. Scarface uses it as his favorite insult.”

Lily looked around the village.
How many of these faces hold kindness? How many hate?

Chapter 33

It took little time to walk a circuit of the island and less time to be certain they could not escape it. They began with the rise above the cove.

Hamidou’s frigate still lay at anchorage, but preparations to bear his message to Gibraltar were underway. The few small boats kept for fishing, transport to the frigate when it anchored further out, or the mainland lay in a shallow cove under guard. Richard’s heart sank. Lily clung to his hand.

“Could we overcome the guard?” she whispered.

Don’t be daft!
He sucked in breath. “Alone, I might try it.

“But not with me,” she sighed. “I’m a burden.”

“Never that. We have a baby to protect, Lily.”

She didn’t argue; she leaned her head against his arm without letting go of his hand. He needed to comfort her; he almost took her in his arms in full view of the village in broad daylight.
What would Her Grace make of that? She would whip me with her outrage if she hadn’t already fainted at my appearance.
That thought brought a smile to his face. He squeezed Lily’s hand and led her on.

Their route took them around the outer perimeter of the houses. The sea, the great churning blue wall to their prison, stretched in every direction they looked. They had circled back past the little square and Hamidou’s uncle’s house when Richard noticed a path leading up the rocky outcrop behind the village, one that must lead to the top of the cliff above the cove.

“Let’s explore that rise.” He nodded toward it.

He followed the path upward with his eyes when they walked toward the back of the uncle’s house. He heard Lily cry, “Dear God!” She grabbed his arm with both hands and turned her head into his shoulder. He looked down at what she saw, and bile burned hot in is chest.

Volkov sat in front of them. Ropes circled his chest and ran under his armpits, holding him upright. His hands were bound in front, the bindings brown with dried blood. His state of undress had not changed; bits of rotten food, mud, and excrement clung to him, thrown, Richard guessed, by children who had been given full rein to torment the man. A crude paper sign with Arabic writing hung around his neck.

Compassion, natural and unbidden, tore at Richard’s heart. He brushed it aside, swiftly calculating what it meant to Lily and his own situation. “Can you read the sign?” he asked Lily.

She lifted her head and forced her gaze back to Volkov. “Infidel,” she whispered.

“Thus anyone who cheats Rais Hamidou,” Richard murmured.
And England damn well better make good on my deal with him.

“No one deserves to be treated this way.”

“Perhaps not,” Richard said, “but some poor souls in Newgate for debts don’t fare much better.” He turned her toward the path, guiding her away from the man.

“Shouldn’t we do something? We can’t just leave him like that.”

“No.”

“Richard!”

“No. I won’t jeopardize your safety by approaching this man who hired his very captors to kidnap you. It would get back to Hamidou in a heartbeat. He brought it on himself. Let it go.”

A rough path zigzagged upward over jagged boulders. Richard held her hand and helped her up. They reached the top after several minutes. Richard forced Volkov from his mind. He hoped Lily did the same.

One bronze-skinned teenager hunkered down by a rock where he could scan the horizon in every direction.
Hamidou’s lookout
. The boy grunted and turned away, ignoring them.

A brisk Mediterranean wind roiled Lily’s skirts and put her hair to flight. She held on to her Berber headdress. Around them lay rocky coast. The village occupied one small flat area.

“Look—the mainland.” She pointed across the water. They could see the coast of North Africa, bright brown and gray in the sunlight with thin lines of green here and there.

They stood shoulder to shoulder for long moments. Lily confirmed Richard’s suspicion that they shared one thought when she murmured. “A person could swim it.”

“Do you swim, Lily?” He’d never known a lady who could swim.

“Not in women’s skirts,” she replied, “And certainly not in this condition.” She looked down ruefully.

But she can,
he thought, astounded. “I’ll have to see how well you swim some other time.”

He stared at the shore, lost in thought.
I could swim it, but could I bring help for Lily quickly enough? Unlikely.
Whatever lay in that land didn’t include the British Navy. The thought of Volkov sickened him.
Thus those who cheat Hamidou.

“You could,” she said, as giving voice to his thoughts.

“I wouldn’t leave you.”

“I know. I’m sorry to be a burden.”

He did take her in his arms at that.
Let watching eyes and London strictures be damned.

“Never that,” he said. He pulled her head against his shoulder while the wind howled around them. “Never that.”

They lingered until the sun began to dip; he led her back down. With every step, his heart sank deeper.
No escape. None. I can only rely on my friends.
He squeezed Lily’s hand tighter.

“You’re hurting me,” she complained. “Do you want to break my fingers?”

He loosened his grip with an apology but did not let go. At the bottom of the rise, he turned her toward the far shore, away from the luckless Volkov, and back to the hut where Lily’s nameless young friend waited with food and drink. She smiled at their joined hands and bowed out, dropping the door covering as she went. Quiet and privacy descended.

In the fading light, Richard took Lily’s face in his hands, long fingers cupping both sides of her chin. He meant to kiss her, but when she smiled wanly, he pulled back. Purple patches lay beneath both eyes, and her mouth looked pinched.

“You look exhausted,” he said frowning. She didn’t deny it.

He lowered her to the rough bed that also served as their settee and brought her tea. She took a cautious sip.

“Mint!” she said, and tried another sip. “Good.”

He pushed food on her, but she took little. He held bread dipped in a sort of meat sauce to her mouth but suspected the nibble she took wouldn’t keep a mouse satisfied.

“You should eat.”

“I did,” she said pulling off her headdress.

“Not enough for even one grown woman, much less for the two of you.”

“The women gave me goat’s milk this morning.”

Is that good for a pregnant woman?
He had no idea. He had no idea how to care for her on his own.

“I’m sorry to be a—”

“Don’t say ‘burden.’ Don’t ever say it,” he growled. “When we get back to England, I’ll hire an army of servants to care for both of you.”

“And so you will fix everything.” Her scowl took him aback.
Now what? She looks like she would tear the skin off my back if she weren’t exhausted.

He took the dish away. He went down on his heels to loosen her sash and lay her down. She attempted to smile, failed, and let her eyes drift shut.

He began to finish the food, dipping bread into the savory meat sauce and devouring the bits quickly while he watched Lily’s breathing become even. His eyes fixated on the gentle rise and fall of the swell where his son lay.
Lily says daughter.
He smiled at the sleeping woman and tucked the thin blanket under her chin.
That’s the least of our problems now.

Light faded away, and in the darkening, he remembered their brief intimacy in the afternoon. Lily’s words resounded in his mind.
There is no reason to forego lovemaking
. Sitting alone in the dark, the logistics of the thing seemed awkward any way he imaged it. Clearly some parts of his anatomy stood eager to try, if only Lily didn’t need sleep so badly.

He shed his robe and climbed gently over the sleeping woman to lie against the wall. Lily lay on her side facing the door; Richard snuggled up behind her, his chest against her back. He embraced her swelling belly with one arm, kissed her neck, and tried to convince his overly eager manhood to settle down. To distract himself he began to devise ways to escape their predicament and reject them one by one, until he finally nodded off.

Lily jerked awake deep into the night. He pulled her back against him and kissed the spot where her neck met the slope of her shoulder.

“Go back to sleep.”

She reached for his arm and pulled it tight around herself. “Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me.”

“Bad dream?”

She nodded. “You tried to swim.”

Tried. And failed.
She didn’t need to say it out loud.

“I won’t leave you, Lily. You can be sure of that, if nothing else. I won’t leave you.”

Her warm bottom moved across his groin, causing an immediate swell of desire. He groaned with pleasure; Lily repeated the action.
Minx!

“Please,” she said, rolling over, seeking his kiss. He obliged her. One of his arms circled her head, and his other hand roamed over her growing middle. Astonishment greeted the unexpected discovery that a breeding woman responds quickly to a man’s touch, if he is gentle and knows exactly which places need a caress. Such a touch to her nipples elicited a moan, the invasion of a finger, moisture. She threaded fingers into his hair and held his mouth on hers. “Please,” she repeated, attempting to pull him closer.

“Easy, Lily. We must have a care. Let me.” He rolled her back to her side and nestled behind her, pleasuring her with his hands until she squirmed restlessly. When she leaned her head back onto his shoulder and whimpered softly, a smile spread across his face. Her pleasure delighted him—delighted and inflamed.

He slid into her moist heat from behind. His last coherent thought was
You’re a treasure, Lily, never a burden. Never that.

The grubby toddler in Lily’s lap pointed to her eyes. Most of the children obsessed on her hair until Grandmother finally told them to quit touching it. The boy in her lap was the first to notice her green eyes. She smiled at him. The smile he returned made her heart flutter.

“Green,” she said pointing to her eyes. She looked around but found little on the rocky island in the same color. She spied a wide stripe on her young friend’s sash and pointed. “Green.”

The toddler followed her gesture. His little eyes squinted. He looked back at her face. One tiny hand came up to the side of her eye. “Green,” he repeated.

Whispers of the word went around the little circle of women around Lily. She looked at their eyes, curious and eager.
Of course! These women are as anxious to learn as I am. They are no different than the intelligent women in the Seraglio or in London. The more they know, the richer their lives become.
The teacher in Lily emerged from its sleep.

“Let’s begin, then,” she said in English to baffled expressions. “I am Lily.” She put a hand over her heart. “Lily. Zambak.”

When she pointed to the girl, the young woman didn’t disappoint. She put her hand on her heart and said, “Izza.” She pointed to Lily and said, “Zambak.” She giggled then and added, “Lily.”

Introductions passed amid much laughter. Only one refused, the woman with the most heavily decorated headpiece who invaded Lily’s peace the first day. She rose in a huff and retreated to her own home.

“She is Wasila, wife of headman,” Izza explained. Lily decided to ignore the rebuff and forge ahead. She learned as much as she taught when they moved on to exchange simple words: house, sash, tea, tree, boat, man.
Man or guard? Hard to tell.

The sun had risen high above before the women began to drift away reluctantly. Lily looked up and saw Richard watching her from the door of their hut.

“How long have you been there?” she asked.

“Long enough. You’re teaching them English.” His expression looked grim.

Lily’s mouth tightened. “Do you find harm in that?” she demanded.

“No.” Still his expression didn’t soften. “English and did I hear Berber?”

“Some Turkish, a word or two of French. We’re exchanging.” Richard stared down at his feet deep in thought.

“They learn quickly. Most people do when given an opportunity,” Lily said into his silence.
What bothers the man now?

“Could I?” he asked. Her eyes flew open wide. “Could you teach me Berber—or Turkish at least?” he said at last.

“I don’t know.”

His scowl in response would have frightened children.

“I mean I can try,” she rushed on. “You realize I don’t know much Berber, don’t you? I’ve just been picking it up.”

“You started ‘picking it up’ the moment Hamidou’s men burst into that filthy cell in Constantinople. You absorb it like a sponge. How do you do it?”

“I don’t know. It has always been so. I watch and listen. I observe how people act upon their words and their expressions. I listen to tone and inflection. People, in the end, aren’t all that different from one another.”
He doesn’t look like he believes me.

“Are you saying you can’t teach me?” he snapped.

Heaven help me, the Marble Marquess found something he can’t do easily, and he hates it. Is he resentful or just afraid to fail?

She pulled on his arm and put her hand over it as if they were about to enter a ballroom; she led him toward the rocky rise, this time approaching from the other direction, avoiding Volkov.

“That isn’t what I mean, Richard,” she told him. “I can teach you what little I know, but when you meet with Hamidou, I suspect you will hear words I don’t.”

His scowl softened. “If you stood at my side, the problem would disappear, but I won’t have you around those men if I can help it.”

Lily felt her mouth curve up.
He would take my help if he could.

“You have to look past the surface, Richard. You care for your country. Hamidou cares for his people. Are you so very different? Watch how he talks to his men. Watch their expressions. Make educated guesses.”

“If I bring words back, you can help me ferret out the meaning.”

“That might work.” They began to climb. “What words concern you now, in English I mean. What should I watch for?”

He flicked a glance at the boy hunkered at the top of the hill. “Lookout,” he said. The corner of his mouth twitched, and Lily grinned broadly.