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Bought for the Harem
Anne Herries
STOLEN FROM THE CALIPHThrown into a frightening and unfamiliar world after her capture by corsairs, Lady Harriet Sefton-Jones thinks help has arrived in the form of dashing Lord Kasim. But it’s out of the frying pan and into the fire…Kasim may once have been an English nobleman, but there is nothing noble about his intentions to purchase Harriet for his master the Caliph’s pleasure. Harriet must resign herself to a life of enslavement… But Kasim has a plan of his own: he wants her for himself!




‘You are nothing but a barbarian and you have no honour …’
‘Be careful, lady. I have only so much patience, and you walk a fine line. If I wished I could punish you.’
Harriet was silenced. She knew that she had risked punishment several times already. She had made the slave master fear her, but curses and insults would not sway this man. There was something harsh and commanding about him, something that made chills run down her spine—and yet when she looked into his eyes she almost believed that she could see compassion in their depths.
No, she must not allow herself to weaken. There was nothing soft or decent about this man. Kasim was a savage, a barbarian, and she despised him.

About the Author
ANNE HERRIES lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife, and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books, although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. She is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize. She invites readers to contact her on her website: www.lindasole.co.uk
Previous novels by the same author:
MARRYING CAPTAIN JACK
THE UNKNOWN HEIR
THE HOMELESS HEIRESS
THE RAKE’S REBELLIOUS LADY
A COUNTRY MISS IN HANOVER SQUARE* (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
AN INNOCENT DEBUTANTE IN HANOVER SQUARE* (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
THE MISTRESS OF HANOVER SQUARE* (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
FORBIDDEN LADY† (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
THE LORD’S FORCED BRIDE† (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
THE PIRATE’S WILLING CAPTIVE† (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
HER DARK AND DANGEROUS LORD† (#ulink_5f572c0c-1a28-5e3e-b323-ab8b2e929af2)
* (#ulink_9d6f838f-cf1b-5da3-9af3-1dc04ac14b41)A Season in Town trilogy † (#ulink_1e30537a-fde5-587a-bfdc-75a1caa360a0)The Melford Dynasty
and in the Regency series The Steepwood Scandal:
LORD RAVENSDEN’S MARRIAGE
COUNTERFEIT EARL
and in The Hellfire Mysteries:
AN IMPROPER COMPANION
A WEALTHY WIDOW
A WORTHY GENTLEMAN
BOUGHT
FOR THE HAREM
Anne Herries








www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Prologue
‘You know that you are as a son to me, Kasim?’
‘Yes, my lord.’ Kasim, councillor and adopted son of Caliph Kahlid bin Ossaman, inclined his head in assent. ‘I am honoured by your confidence in me.’
‘This is an assignment I would trust to no other, Kasim. Prince Hassan is very precious to me. He will soon be of the age to marry and I must find the right wife for him. He already has many beautiful women in his harem, but none of them are what is needed. Hassan will take my place when I die …’ The Caliph waved his hand as Kasim would have protested. ‘It is as Allah wills, my son. All men must die to take their place in Paradise. I shall not shrink from death when my time comes—but I would have my son secure. He needs a woman of both exceptional beauty and intelligence, but also spirit. She will produce his heir. His mother was such a woman and this is what I want for my son.’
Kasim looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Is there no one within the ranks of your fellow lords with a daughter that would fill your requirements? She at least would be a Muslim and trained in all the things she should know to fit her for her duties as the prince’s chief wife.’
The Caliph was silent for a moment. His eyes held a cold glitter as he looked at Kasim and his mouth formed a thin hard line. ‘If I chose a wife from one important family I should make an enemy of another. You know the jealousy of the tribal chiefs, Kasim. We constantly have to suppress uprisings and small rebellions amongst the chieftains of the north. My own wife came from the country that gave you birth and I wish for an English wife for my son.’
‘You wish me to buy a woman from the slave markets of Algiers?’ Kasim repeated the request to make certain he had heard correctly.
‘Yes, that is my wish. Choose wisely, my son. The price is immaterial. I want a jewel beyond price for Prince Hassan.’
For a moment, Kasim hesitated, then, ‘It shall be as you command.’
He bowed to his royal master and took five steps backward, before turning to leave the presence chamber. He was frowning as he made his way towards his own apartments in the palace. The Caliph treated him with respect and even affection. Kasim was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and deep blue eyes; he owed his position here to a man he knew to be ruthless and yet compassionate, wise and yet sometimes ruled by his ruthless nature. Kahlid was a just ruler of his province, which he held in subservience to the Sultan, but he gave no quarter to his enemies. To raise your hand against him and fail was to die. Kasim had recently returned from an expedition to crush a rebellious tribe to the north of the Caliph’s territory. He had done so efficiently and with as little wanton bloodshed as possible, but he knew that the prisoners the Janissaries had brought back would receive harsh punishment. There was nothing he could do to change that fact, and any interference would be frowned on. It was a part of the life he had chosen here and he must accept it.
However, he would not be around to see the punishments for he must leave as soon as he could to provision his ship. A request from the Caliph was an order. Kasim must find a bride for the young prince—and an English girl of exceptional beauty and intelligence.
It would not be easy to find the right woman. Kasim knew that he might need to spend many months searching for such a woman—if indeed it could be done.
Kasim understood the thinking behind his ruler’s request. To favour the daughter of one tribal chieftain would certainly cause jealousy and unrest. Yet something about this mission did not sit well with him. If it were possible he would have refused, but he had no choice—unless he wished to leave the palace and seek a new life.
He had risen high in the service of the Caliph and was already in possession of a considerable fortune. Kasim was aware of a restless need inside himself, a desire for something he could not name. A wry smile touched his mouth. He had left England under a shadow many years before. Fortune or Fate had brought him here after a period of hardship and suffering, and he would be a fool to question the life he had found as an honoured member of the Caliph’s household.

Chapter One
‘What is happening to us? Where are they taking us now?’
Lady Harriet Sefton-Jones looked at the young woman who clutched her arm so desperately, feeling a deep shaft of sympathy. Corsairs had captured their ship some weeks earlier and they had been kept in the hold for days, shivering and terrified. When the ship docked they were taken to a house somewhere in the busy port of Algiers. The men captured with them that terrible night were shackled with chains about their ankles, but at least she and her cousin, Marguerite, had been spared that fate. Once at the house she and her cousin had been cared for by an old woman, taken to bathe and given the apparel they were wearing now. The clothes were clean, but felt strange; they consisted of long narrow pantaloons that clung to the ankle and dark tunics that covered them from head to toe.
‘I am not sure, dearest,’ Harriet said in a low voice. They had been forbidden to talk by the man who accompanied them. ‘I think the corsair captain sold us to Ali Bin Ahmed, at least that is what I gathered from Miriam—but I do not know where we are going now.’
‘I couldn’t understand a word she said,’ Marguerite said tearfully. ‘If only we had stayed with the ship, Harriet. Father and Captain Richardson put us into the rowing boat with others in the hope of saving us, but …’ A shiver took her and she could not continue. ‘Do you think they were killed?’
Harriet did not answer immediately. Her uncle, Sir Harold Henley, and the brave young captain had last been seen fighting the horde of pirates who had boarded the ship during the night. The vessel had been becalmed for lack of wind and the lookout must have neglected his duty for they had been woken by Marguerite’s father and told they were being boarded by pirates. He had hurried the ladies from their cabin and sent them up on deck, where they were put into the boats with other passengers and crew. They had hoped to reach the shore while the corsairs were fighting for the ship, but the fierce pirates had come after the boat, perhaps because of the women.
Marguerite was beautiful and would be prized in the slave markets, which was in all probability where they were headed now. Harriet was older than her cousin, attractive in her own way with dark hair and soft eyes. She had studied languages with her father before his death just over a year previously and could speak French and Spanish fluently. She could also read in Arabic and Greek, and it was because she could recognise a smattering of various other languages that she had managed to communicate with the elderly woman who’d helped hold them captive, Miriam.
As yet Harriet had not told her cousin what she feared, because she had hoped she might be allowed to ransom both Marguerite and herself. She had tried to tell Miriam that she was willing to pay, but the woman just shook her head. Although she was apprehensive herself, Harriet had no intention of giving up. Sooner or later she was bound to come in contact with someone who would listen to her and not pretend they did not understand, as the corsair captain had when she pleaded with him and received a blow for her pains. The bruise on her cheek still hurt her, but it had not daunted her spirit.
She reached for her cousin’s hand. ‘Whatever happens, we must not be separated,’ she said. ‘Just do as I do and hold on to me even if they threaten us.’
‘Oh, Harriet …’ Marguerite’s eyes filled with tears. ‘If you had not accompanied Father and me to Spain, I should have been alone and I just could not bear it.’
‘I will not let them part us,’ Harriet vowed, holding tightly to the younger woman. ‘I promise that as long as I live I will do my best to protect you.’
‘I am so afraid …’
Harriet comforted her as best she could, knowing that amongst people who seemed ruthless and capable of any violence anything could happen. She saw the high metal fencing that surrounded the building to which they were being taken, her worst fears confirmed.
They were about to be sold in the slave market, as if they were beasts or chattels—and anyone could buy them.
Kasim wandered round the busy marketplace. It teamed with people of many nationalities; voices, harsh and shrill, assaulted his ears with perhaps a dozen different languages and dialects. He had visited the market every day for nearly two months looking for the special woman that the Caliph had requested him to find, but as yet he had seen none that would please his exacting master. There were many beautiful women to be found in the auctions that were held most days, but only one had been English in the past few weeks. She was already bearing a child and was neither as beautiful nor as clever as the Caliph required.
‘Will your highness attend the auction of Ali bin Ahmed this day, honourable lord?’
Kasim looked down into the impish face of the young slave boy, who was tugging at his sleeve. The lad was thin, dressed in filthy rags and smelled none too sweet, yet his heart was touched by something in the boy’s eyes. His life as Ali bin Ahmed’s whipping boy could not be easy.
‘Did your master send you to me, Yuri?’
‘Yes, gracious lord, master of the Caliph’s household and exalted one. Ali bin Ahmed told me he has heard that you are looking for a special woman.’
‘There is no need to call me by such titles,’ Kasim said with a wry twist of his lips. There was something about the lad that touched a chord in his memory, but he could not place it. No doubt it would come to him in time. ‘I am merely Kasim, servant to the Caliph. Tell me, does your master have a special woman in his compound?’
‘There is a woman of great beauty but she weeps all the time and clings to the other woman who I’ve named the hellcat,’ Yuri told him with a grimace. ‘I do not think they would interest you, lord.’
Kasim hid his smile for the lad amused him. His spirit and courage was remarkable and his eyes told of a wicked humour. ‘Tell me what is this woman like—the one of great beauty?’
‘She has hair like sunbeams, fine and silky, and it falls to the small of her back. Her eyes are blue as a summer sky and her mouth is pink and soft … but she clings to the hellcat and will not be parted from her. Even though my master threatened them with the whip, the hellcat would not let go of her. She faced him down and he grunted and left them together.’
‘Indeed?’ Now the smile tugged at the corner’s of Kasim’s mouth. ‘I am surprised that Ali has not had them separated before this.’
‘The hellcat told Ali that his privates would dry up and fall off if he dared to separate them and she said it in our own tongue, though she and the beautiful one are both from the land called England. My master is scared of her, lord. I think he believes that she has put a curse on him.’
‘Is she a witch then?’ Kasim was intrigued. What kind of an English woman could curse the slave master in his own language? Certainly none that he had ever known in another life—a life he had no wish to remember. ‘You may tell your master that I shall attend his auction this afternoon.’
‘Yes, honourable lord …’ Yuri was about to run off when Kasim caught his arm. The lad looked up at him inquiringly, but made no attempt to pull away.
‘How old are you, boy? Ten … eleven?’
‘I do not know, my lord. No one has ever told me.’
‘Where did you come from?’
Yuri looked puzzled. ‘I was always here, lord. My mother was the slave of a merchant who purchased her from the corsairs. When she was sold to a new master, she tried to escape and no one saw her again. My master’s wife took me in and cared for me and I grew up in his household. That is all I know for no one speaks of her.’ A slightly wistful expression came to his eyes, as if he wished he might have known his mother.
‘Are you happy in Ali’s service?’
‘My master does not beat me unless he is angry. If I see that things do not go well, I hide until he is in a better temper.’
Kasim nodded. The boy’s life was no worse than a thousand others in this place; however, over the last few weeks he had developed a soft spot for the young lad and he would mention the possibility of buying him when he visited the auction later. The boy could serve him until he was older and then choose his own destiny. He would not be the first slave Kasim had set free.
His thoughts turned to the women the slave master had in his compound. If the blonde woman was truly English and as beautiful as Yuri claimed, his search might be at an end, though the other woman must somehow be persuaded to part with her friend.
‘What will become of us?’ Marguerite asked, as they were herded into a pen with other prisoners. ‘Will they ransom us, as you asked?’
Harriet reached for her hand. Marguerite had lived in a permanent state of terror since the day they were captured. The first few hours had truly been terrifying, but since then they had not been harshly treated and Harriet believed that if they behaved sensibly they would not be harmed. She suspected they were too valuable, though once they were sold it might be different. However, she refused to give into fear. She had tried to speak to the slave master when they arrived at the market, but though she sensed that he understood her, he merely shook his head and refused to answer her questions. Harriet had tried in vain to get news of her uncle and maid, who had become separated from them, also her uncle’s servant and Captain Richardson. She had told Ali bin Ahmed that her family would ransom them for money, but he glared at her and made a negative sound.
She spoke to one of the other prisoners in the compound. The woman told Harriet that she was French, taken captive some days earlier from another ship. There had been no sign of Marguerite’s father, Captain Richardson or Harriet’s maid. She could only hope that the others were still alive and safe.
‘I shall be worth little for I shall be sold as a body slave,’ the woman, who was called Francine, told Harriet. ‘But your friend will be bought by a rich man for his harem, and you may be, too, for you are both young and unmarried.’
‘Surely they will allow us to be ransomed?’ Harriet said, her heart sinking. ‘My brother is wealthy and he will pay for our release.’
‘Sometimes a ransom may be arranged,’ Francine agreed. ‘Some slave masters are wary of such an agreement. It is far easier to sell captives in the slave market than to trade with the foreign devils, as they call us.’
‘Perhaps the buyer will listen,’ Harriet said, but saw only pity in the older woman’s eyes. ‘Surely there must be someone who can help us?’
‘If your brother uses his influence with the French ambassador, it might be possible to trace and rescue you, but by that time … it may be best if you are never found. If you still live, you will be a shame upon your family’s name, but you may choose to end your life before—’ The woman broke off, clearly too distressed to continue. She did not need to: Harriet was well aware of her meaning. Both she and Marguerite might be taken to a harem and used to pleasure whoever bought them.
Marguerite had asked her what the Frenchwoman had said to her, but Harriet shook her head. She had allowed Marguerite to believe they would be ransomed, but since they had been transferred to the compound behind the slave market it was difficult to keep her cousin’s spirits up.
‘I do not know what will happen,’ she told Marguerite now. ‘We must stay together for as long as possible. If we refuse to be parted, they may have to sell us together; while we are together there is hope for us both.’
‘Oh, Harriet,’ Marguerite sobbed and clung to her. ‘If you had not come with me I should have been lost for ever. I would have died in the sea rather than let these beasts take me.’
‘You must not give way to despair, my love,’ Harriet said. ‘If I can find a way to have us both ransomed, I shall. I have a fortune and I will use it to see us both safely home again.’
‘What of Papa and … Captain Richardson?’ Marguerite asked. ‘Do you think they were killed on the ship? I have wondered if it would have been better to have stayed with them. If he is dead.’ She choked back her grief. ‘I would truly rather be dead than live as the concubine of one of those terrible men.’ She shuddered. ‘They frighten me, Harriet. I do not like their voices or their smell.’
‘The corsairs are brutes and there is an unpleasant smell about them, but I believe it will be very different in the har … household of a wealthy man. I understand that the Turks and Saracens can be highly educated men and that they like to bathe frequently. They are more likely to smell of perfume than sweat.’
‘Harriet!’ Marguerite stared at her in horror. ‘How can you say they are intelligent when they treat women as slaves? It is wicked and inhuman! I would rather die than be forced to. I should die of shame.’
‘Yes, I know that we should be ruined as far as the chance of a good marriage is concerned, but there are other pleasures in life. Besides, if a man of honour buys us, he may allow us to be ransomed in time.’
Marguerite gave her an accusing look. ‘You are saying that just to comfort me. You know it won’t happen, don’t you?’
Harriet cast down her gaze. She had begun to think that the hope of being ransomed was fading fast, but, seeing the fear and distress in her cousin’s eyes, knew she must not give up.
‘I can only promise to try, Marguerite. As yet I have found no one who will listen—’
Harriet broke off as she saw that something was happening. The slave master was choosing men and women and they were being taken from the compound. She grabbed hold of Marguerite, her heart beating wildly.
‘I think we are being taken to the auction. Hang on to me, Marguerite, and don’t let go whatever they say to us.’
Marguerite nodded, her face ashen. She took hold of Harriet’s arm, determined that she would not let go even if they were threatened, as they had already been several times.
‘Let go of her,’ the slave master commanded. ‘I want the fair one, not you.’
‘We go together.’ Harriet faced him down. In a tone of utter loathing she muttered an insult that he would understand, which she had once found in a rather risqué book in her father’s library. The stories had been about Arabia, but told as amorous adventures, and something she ought never to have touched, let alone read. Yet it had opened her eyes and perhaps she was more prepared for what was happening, because she had read of things most women might not have heard of and would think horrifying.
The slave master’s face was a picture of surprise and shock, yet a gleam of appreciation showed in his eyes and Harriet realised that he had a reluctant admiration for her vocabulary.
‘Go on, then, but you are to be sold separately.’
‘Quickly,’ Harriet hissed as they followed the other slaves through a dark tunnel. ‘Help me tie your wrist to mine. If they want to separate us they will have to cut us, apart.’
‘Oh, Harry …’ Marguerite trembled, her eyes dark with fear. ‘What will happen to us? Supposing someone horrible buys us?’
‘I shall protect you,’ Harriet said, though she could not help wondering who would protect her. Her own fear was like a hard knot inside her chest and she wished herself safe at home with her dogs and horses, but she lifted her head proudly, refusing to show her feelings. If only she had never agreed to accompany her uncle to Spain, she might have been out riding now with the wind in her hair. Yet that was selfish. Marguerite could not have survived her ordeal alone. ‘Whatever happens to us, I shall try to keep you from harm.’
Kasim watched the procession of slaves brought on to the block to be sold one by one. There were some strong men by the look of it, some of whom would make excellent Janissaries. However, he was not here to purchase male slaves, only a bride for the Caliph’s son. A few women had been brought out, but none of them would be looked on with favour even for the Caliph’s harem. He frowned, wondering if he had been lured here on a false pretence; then, as he heard a small disturbance and two women were pushed on to the auction block together, he sat forward with renewed interest.
Kasim saw instantly that one of the women was exceptionally beautiful. Her hair was long and fell down her back in silken waves just as Yuri had described. She looked pale and frightened, which was not surprising in the circumstances. Having experienced what it was like to be captured by Corsairs as a young man, Kasim could understand the fear. He looked at the beauty’s companion and frowned. She was older, attractive, but not beautiful by any means. Her hair was a rich dark brown with a hint of red, her face pale, but she did not seem as frightened as the beauty. She held herself proudly, her hand holding on to her companion tightly. A grim smile touched his lips as he saw the two women had tied themselves together. Yuri had named the older of the two the hellcat and perhaps it was an apt name.
There was an argument going on. Several men were interested in buying the beauty, it seemed, but they were not prepared to take both women. One of the slave owner’s servants tried to pull the older woman away, but she spoke to him fiercely and he dropped back, clearly stunned by what she had to say. Kasim was not close enough to hear what was said, but he had seen enough. He got to his feet and called out. ‘I bid one thousand gold pieces for the two women.’
For a moment hushed silence fell, then a voice in the crowd called out that he would pay twelve hundred for the women. Kasim waited to see if there were any more offers, then raised his arm.
‘I will pay fifteen hundred gold pieces.’
A hushed silence fell on the crowd as they waited to see what would happen next.
‘Sixteen hundred.’
‘Two thousand,’ Kasim said. This time there was no rival bid. It was a huge sum to pay for a slave, because no one counted the second woman. It seemed she refused to be parted from her companion, but she would learn to obey her master once she was taken to the harem, most likely as a body slave.
‘Sold to Kasim, master of the Caliph’s personal household,’ the slave owner said swiftly. He genuflected with reverence towards the man who had bid such a fabulous price. ‘May Allah bless your union and make you many sons, honourable lord.’
‘I will take them with me now.’
Kasim left his seat and walked down the steps leading to the block, then mounted it, moving closer to look his purchase over. Close to, the beauty was even more lovely than he had imagined. All she needed was some more becoming clothes. Kahlid would be pleased with what he had found. He frowned as he looked at her companion. The older woman met his gaze unflinchingly, her eyes intelligent and inquiring; they reminded him of a smoky haze in an English sky and he felt a little jolt low in his stomach. Suddenly, he was remembering his home and his childhood, when he had run free in the fields about his home. He banished the thought instantly. That life had gone for ever.
‘You are both English?’ he asked in their own tongue. ‘You have nothing to fear, ladies. I am Kasim, controller of the Caliph’s household and you are in my care. You have suffered a terrible ordeal, but from now on you will be cared for and pampered as ladies of the Caliph’s household.’
‘You speak English.’ The beauty looked at him in relief. ‘Please, will you ransom us? The price you paid will be repaid and you will be well rewarded for your trouble—won’t he, Harriet?’
‘My brother is Viscount Sefton-Jones of London, England,’ the older one said. ‘My cousin speaks truly, sir. We should be so grateful if you would ransom us to our families. I promise you would not lose by it for I have my own fortune. I would make certain your price was met.’
Kasim’s gaze narrowed as he looked at the one the beauty had named Harriet. He saw that she realised they had been bought for a fabulous price, though her companion seemed less aware of it.
‘Forgive me, ladies,’ Kasim said without a flicker of emotion in his face. Her voice had made a strong appeal and for a moment he was tempted to listen to her plea, but he crushed the weakness swiftly. To find another woman who was both English and beautiful might take many months, if it were even possible. ‘I am merely the Caliph’s servant. The money I must now pay to Ali bin Ahmed belongs to my royal master. I am not at liberty to ransom you, but my master may listen to your request for he is a just man. Come, there is nothing to fear. If you behave with dignity you will not be harmed.’
The beauty looked at him, then turned to her companion, tears trickling down her cheeks. ‘Don’t let him take us, Harry. Please, don’t let him take us.’
‘He will not listen to us any more than the others.’ The older woman looked at Kasim with scorn. ‘We must do as he says for the moment, Marguerite. Try not to be frightened, my love. Perhaps the Caliph will be a reasonable man and show some compassion.’
Kasim inclined his head. There was something about her that commanded respect, and he wondered what she had said to the slave master. Few women managed to keep such men in check, but he thought he understood why the man had been in awe of her. As a youth he had met women like her, women who could command with a look or a softly spoken word. Her scorn made him feel a little uncomfortable for he knew that he did have a choice. He could turn his back on the life he had made for himself in the Caliph’s palace, and yet he was not truly free, for he had given his word when he was released from the slave quarters and made a trusted member of the household. He was free to come and go as he pleased, but it was a matter of honour to remain loyal to the man who had given him so much. His royal master treated him as another son, giving him honours, position and money. He was not going to break his word to the Caliph for a woman he did not know. Even so, he was vaguely uneasy as he steered the women away from the slave market towards the harbour where his ship awaited them.
He tried not to remember that he had once come from the same world as these two young women. Had it not been for an unfortunate quarrel with his father, he might still be living in England, leading the life of an idle wastrel with nothing to fill his days but gambling and fighting over the women he shared with his so-called friends.
It was one of those friends who had been the cause of Kasim’s downfall, and his subsequent lies that had led to the quarrel. Kasim had left England as a privateer looking for riches and adventure, but he had been shipwrecked and taken on board a corsair ship more dead than alive. He knew all about being sold and beaten, but fortune had led him to the Caliph’s palace, and his own bravery in saving the Caliph’s son from an assassin had made him what he was today.
Kahlid bin Ossaman had treated him with respect and fairness from that day to this. He would be failing in his duty if he did what the beauty asked, but he could not quite rid himself of a niggling feeling of guilt as he escorted the women to the harbour.
His ship was waiting to take them to Constantinople—or Istanbul as it was known throughout the Ottoman Empire. Once the women were safely locked in his cabin he would return and pay the slave master—and he would purchase the young boy Yuri for himself if it were permitted. He would do his duty and forget his personal doubts.
He had been given a commission, which he had fulfilled to the best of his ability. If the Caliph’s son did not find the beauty desirable the Caliph might indeed listen to the women’s pleas to be ransomed. He eased his conscience by reflecting that if they had been bought by the tribal chief who had tried to bid against him, their fate would be much worse than it was at present. The older one would have been beaten and, if she continued to resist, might have died a cruel death; the beauty might have preferred death to her likely fate at that devil’s hands. They were fortunate that he had been at the auction that day, though as yet they might not realise how close to disaster they had come.
Harriet looked about her as they were escorted through the port. It was teaming with people, dogs, donkeys and carts. All kinds of merchandise was being sold or loaded on to ships, and there was much confusion. She considered whether or not it would be possible to break away from the man who had bought them and disappear into the crowds. If he should be distracted for a moment, she might take the chance—surely anything would be better than simply allowing this man to make them slaves?
‘Do not even think of escape.’ A hand of iron gripped Harriet’s wrist. She jumped, feeling as if something seared her skin, and lifted her eyes to his. The look he gave her was angry, terrifying, because she felt he read her mind. ‘You are the Caliph’s property. He may have little use for you, lady, but I should pursue you both and take her back. You, I might leave to your fate. Think carefully what that means—you would not last long if I were not here to guard you in this place.’
‘What do you mean?’ She felt chilled as she saw the warning in his eyes.
‘There are men here who would think nothing of abusing you. They would fight over you like a pack of dogs, snarling and quarrelling to decide who had you next. You would be used until your spirit was broken and you died of some foul disease if you did not starve to death. Is that what you want—for yourself or your companion?’
‘No …’ Harriet shivered—there was something about him that reminded her of a dream that had frightened her the night before she left England. In the dream she looked into the face of a man and been very afraid, but she had not been able to recall the rest of the dream when she woke. ‘I want both of us to be free. We are English gentlewomen from good families. How could you think it right to buy us as if we were beasts of burden? You had no right to offer all that money. It was ridiculous.’
‘I was making a statement. I hoped none would bid against me. You were fortunate that my purse is deep.’
‘Fortunate?’ Harriet glared at him. ‘I do not consider myself fortunate to be sold as a slave.’
‘Had I not been there you would still have been sold, probably separately—and to a man who would have slit your throat if you defied him.’
‘No …’ Harriet felt chilled. ‘Can you not see that it is wrong to make a free woman a slave?’
‘I am not prepared to debate these things with you.’ His expression was forbidding. ‘You are not in England now. You must adapt to a different culture.’
‘Why? You can buy another woman for your harem. Why will you not let us be ransomed? I promise I will pay twice what you paid.’
‘It is not possible. I was commissioned to buy an English woman of beauty and intelligence. The fair one is a rare beauty. I am not at liberty to free you.’
‘No one would know.’
‘I should know. It is a matter of honour with me.’
‘What honour is there in making slaves of two women?’
A little pulse flicked in his throat, as if she had touched a nerve deep within him. ‘You will have comfort and a measure of freedom in the palace if you behave. Do not ask for more. You belong to the Caliph and I shall never let you escape. Yet in the harem you will be treated kindly enough if you behave in a sensible manner.’
Harriet raised her head proudly. ‘You could have let us be ransomed. If you had compassion or decency, you would sell us to our families and make a profit for yourself. You are nothing but a barbarian and have no honour—’
‘Be careful, lady. I have only so much patience, and you walk a fine line. If I wished, I could punish you.’
Harriet was silenced. She knew that she had risked punishment several times already. She had made the slave master fear her, but curses and insults would not sway this man. There was something harsh and commanding about him, something that made chills run down her spine—and yet when she looked into his eyes she almost believed that she could see compassion in their depths.
No, she must not allow herself to weaken. There was nothing soft or decent about this man. He was a savage, a barbarian, and she despised him and all his kind.
The cabin in which they had been housed was not uncomfortable. Harriet thought it might belong to the master of the ship. She was not sure, but by the way they had been greeted when they came on board ship she believed that the man with the blue eyes might own the vessel.
The suspicion made her feel angry and frustrated. Why could he not have taken them to England? If he was his own master, he could have set her and Marguerite free on payment of a generous ransom. She would willingly have repaid him what he had spent and more from her own fortune, though it would have meant she had none left for travelling.
A shiver went through her. After what had happened, she would never want to leave her home again. She wished that neither she nor Harriet had left the shores of England.
‘Harry …’ Hearing a wail of despair, Harriet turned to look at her cousin. Marguerite was vomiting, her gown stained with brownish liquid. ‘I feel so ill. My stomach hurts.’
‘Sit down, dearest. Is it the same as you felt when we had the storm?’
‘No, it is worse. I think the food they gave us in that terrible place was bad.’
‘Lie down on the bed and I will get help.’
Harriet went to the door of the cabin. She had expected that it might be locked, but found it opened at her touch. She went out into the narrow passage and looked to left and right, hoping that she might see someone.
‘Help … please help …’
‘There is no use in calling for help. No one will help you to escape.’
Harriet glared at the man with the blue eyes, raising her head proudly. ‘I am not foolish enough to imagine I could escape from a ship. Had I wanted to try I should have done so while we were in port. My cousin is ill.’
He stared at her, considering. ‘What ails her?’
‘She has been sick and she has pain in her stomach. I think the food we were given at the slave master’s compound was bad. I ate nothing but a piece of bread, but Marguerite was hungry and ate some meat.’
‘What kind of meat?’
‘I do not know. She said it tasted horrible.’
‘It was probably too well spiced. You would not have been given bad food. Your companion is too valuable to risk giving her bad meat.’
‘She is my cousin and I love her. Can you give her something to ease her?’
‘I may have something in my belongings that will ease her. Look in the sea chest in your cabin and you will find a small blue bottle. Three drops of the liquid inside mixed with water should ease her sickness, and the pain will go.’
‘You seem very sure?’
‘The remedy was given to me when I experienced similar sickness many years ago. I have kept it with me in case it was needed, though I have become accustomed to spiced food, as you will in time.’
‘I do not intend that we should stay in your country for long enough to become accustomed to anything. When I see your master I shall demand our freedom.’
For a moment a smile flickered in his eyes, as if he laughed despite himself, but then it vanished and his expression became hard once more. ‘I doubt that you will be noticed by the Caliph, lady—but even if you were, you would do well not to make any demands. Otherwise, you would soon find yourself in a place you would not wish to be.’
Harriet gave him a haughty look, turned and went back into the cabin. She opened the sea chest, found the small blue bottle and tasted one drop on her mouth. It was bitter, making her pull a face, but she knew it could not be poison, for the man with the blue eyes would not be so careless with the Caliph’s money.
Making up the medicine as she had been told, Harriet gave the cup to her cousin. Marguerite made a face as she swallowed it, but soon after she seemed easier and in a little while she had fallen asleep.
She was worn out with weeping. Looking at her with compassion, Harriet understood that her cousin was terrified of the future and with good cause. Her beauty would ensure that she would find favour in the eyes of the man for whom she had been bought. Harriet might spend her days as a servant if she were fortunate, but Marguerite would become a concubine.
Sinking to her knees, Harriet bent her head in prayer.
‘Please keep her safe,’ she whispered. ‘I can bear whatever happens to me … but please keep my cousin safe.’
Kasim was frowning as he went back on deck. The hellcat was living up to her name and he did not doubt that she would cause trouble in the harem. He felt a pang of conscience for he knew that it was within his power to set them both free. He could have found another woman for the Caliph’s son—or simply returned to the palace and reported his failure to find the right woman.
For a few moments he toyed with the idea of sailing for England, but then the bitter memories crowded in and he knew that he could never return to the life that had been his. He was settled in the palace and his life was not unpleasant. He would be a fool to throw away all that he had worked for, for the sake of a woman he did not know.
‘My lord Kasim …’ a voice called to him and he pushed the women from his mind.
Climbing to the bridge, he turned his mind to the voyage ahead. There were reasons why he needed to return to the palace. He must put away his vague feelings of guilt and concentrate on his duty.

Chapter Two
Harriet was bending over her cousin, bathing her forehead with cool water when the cabin door opened behind her. She swung round, feeling a little shock when she saw the man who had purchased them.
‘What do you want?’ she asked sharply, her heart racing. He had told her they were purchased for the Caliph, but the sight of him made her nervous—supposing he had decided to keep Marguerite for himself?
‘I came to see how your cousin was faring,’ he said and frowned as he sensed her apprehension. ‘You have nothing to fear from me, mistress.’
‘She is still unwell. Her skin is hot and she is sweating.’
‘Did you give her the medicine?’
‘Yes. It eased her for a while, but then she was sick again.’
He walked to the bed and placed a hand on Marguerite’s forehead. ‘She is warm. Perhaps you should sponge her down with cool water. I have heard it helps with a fever. She may have taken a fever rather than eaten something unpleasant. I imagine you were kept in a hold before you reached Algiers?’
‘Yes. It smelled foul and the air was dreadful. Your people have much to answer for, sir!’
‘The corsairs are not my people,’ Kasim replied, his eyes dark with thought. ‘You are not the only ones who have suffered at their hands. You will find life very different where you are going, for you will have the best of everything.’
‘We shall not be free.’
‘Were you truly free at home, Lady Harriet? If so, you are a remarkable woman. Most English ladies I knew were constrained by the rules of society and their families.’
‘You have been to England?’ Her eyes narrowed. His skin had a deep tan, but there was something about his features that made her wonder. ‘Are you English? Why are you here?’
‘You ask too many questions,’ he replied as Marguerite moaned. ‘I will mix another preparation for you—and then I shall leave you so that you can bathe her.’
‘Thank you.’ Harriet bent over her cousin, smoothing a damp cloth over her brow. She put an arm under Marguerite’s head as he returned with the cup, lifting her. ‘Drink this, dearest. It may ease you.’
Marguerite swallowed and lay back against the pillows, her eyes closed.
‘It will be a day or two before we reach port,’ Kasim said. ‘On board this ship you are free to come on deck if you wish. If you jumped overboard my men would fetch you back. I would ask you not to waste their time by trying to escape.’
‘Marguerite cannot swim,’ Harriet replied. ‘I would have tried to swim for the shore when the pirates took us, but she would have been left behind. I cannot desert her.’
For a moment his eyes met hers and she saw an odd expression in their depths. ‘You may not always be able to protect her. She is a grown woman and one day must choose for herself.’
‘She was going to Spain to meet a man who had asked for her hand in marriage, but she begged me to go with her. I think she was afraid that she might be compelled to marry against her will, but her father loves her. He would have let her choose—but she was anxious and I thought I might travel, see something of the world.’
‘Perhaps you have seen more than you would have wished. This is the world as it is, whether you and I like it or not,’ Kasim said, walked to the door and went out.
Harriet bent over her cousin once more. She pulled back the covers, bathing her limbs one by one, then, turning her on to her stomach, she lifted the tunic and bathed Marguerite’s back. She pushed back the loose sleeves of the kaftan and bathed her arms, then her face and neck. After that it seemed that Marguerite was easier.
Harriet watched her for a while, then went to look out of the porthole. The sky was dark, lit only by a few stars. She sighed and felt the sting of tears, but brushed them away impatiently as she went to lie down beside her cousin. Marguerite was sleeping and she was tired … so very tired.
You are mine. You shall always belong to me. There is no escape for you other than death. I have claimed you and you shall be mine.
Harriet woke shivering and damp with sweat. She had never experienced quite such a terrible dream before and it left her feeling very much afraid, and aware of a sense of terrible loss.
For a moment she lay in the darkness, wondering where she was, then everything came flooding back and she realised that she was on a ship being taken to the Caliph’s palace somewhere in the Ottoman Empire.
No wonder her dream had been so terrifying, because it was all happening, just as she had dreamed that night before they left England. This time she could recall that she had been a prisoner of the man who had said those terrifying words—and that man was the one who had bought them from the slave market. What had he called himself—Kasim? Yes, that was his name. He was a high official in the Caliph’s household and he had bought them for the harem.
The lantern had gone out while she slept and she had no means of lighting it again. Leaving the bed, she went round to the other side, bending over Marguerite to touch her forehead. Thankfully, she was cooler and seemed to be sleeping well.
Taking the lantern from its hook near the door, Harriet opened the cabin door and went out. She could see a faint light near the steps that led up to the deck and walked towards it, intending to see if there was sufficient candle left in the lantern to re-kindle it.
‘What are you doing? There will be a watchman on deck if you were thinking of escape.’
Harriet swung round. A shiver went through her as she saw that he was wearing a long loose white kaftan, his feet bare. Now he looked exactly as he had in her dream!
‘I told you that I would never leave Marguerite. The lantern went out as I slept. I was going to try to light it.’
‘Let me see …’ He took the lantern and opened the glass panel, then frowned. ‘It has burned down. Take this one instead and I will replace this.’ He handed her the lantern that had been hanging near the steps. ‘How is your cousin now? Has the medicine worked for her?’
‘Yes, I believe it has. She is sleeping peacefully.’ Harriet’s moment of fear had passed. In her dream he had been fierce and passionate, but standing close to her like this in what resembled a nightgown to her English eyes, he seemed no more frightening than her brother. ‘You were thoughtful to come and enquire, sir. I thank you for your kindness.’
‘It would be foolish to lose my investment, would it not?’
His words were like a slap in the face. For a moment Harriet had felt a closeness, almost a kinship with him. She looked into his face and, seeing that he was determined to go ahead with his plans for her and Marguerite, her heart sank.
She suspected that he had once been English and a gentleman, but it seemed he had forgotten his past and owed allegiance only to the Caliph. She had been foolish to imagine that he might change his mind and take them back to England.
Kasim frowned as he returned to his own cabin. He was not sure what had woken him earlier, but he thought he must have been dreaming of something he had long ago driven from his mind. Waking with a start, he had thought immediately of the two English women and gone in search of them. For a moment as he saw the dark-haired woman he had thought she was trying to escape and for some reason his stomach spasmed with sudden fear. Surely she would not throw her life away by jumping overboard? In the dark she could be lost. He felt a curious ache inside for a moment, but it faded swiftly as she explained about the lantern.
Usually, Kasim slept well, but this night he had been unable to rest. He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with the women he had purchased. They were not the only ones to experience the distress of being bought and sold as slaves. Here in this part of the world it was an accepted custom and worked to advantage in many cases. It was true that some masters were cruel and treated their slaves worse than beasts of burden, but others were no worse than the men who owned great estates in England and Europe. The workers might not be called slaves, but were often treated no better. Justice was often summary and brutal. Men languished and died in the Queen’s dungeons, and many were put to the torture of hot irons and the rack.
In the Caliph’s household the slaves were treated fairly and some might earn their freedom in time; indeed, many men and women sold themselves into slavery rather than die of starvation on the streets. Kasim himself had learned how fair the system could be. He was now a wealthy man in his own right, most of his fortune earned from trading and importing goods from other lands. He trusted his captain to obey his orders, and thus far his trust had been repaid. Perhaps one day he might leave the Northern Territories and push the boundaries of his empire, but for the moment he was content to live at the palace and give his loyalty to the Caliph. He owed everything to the man who called him his son—and indeed, he loved Kahlid as a benevolent friend. His son, Prince Hassan was his brother in all but blood.
Kasim thrust thoughts of giving in to Lady Harriet’s demands to return her to her family away. To go against the wishes of his friend and master would be to betray all the promises he had given … the trust that had built up between them would be destroyed. He would be a fool to throw away all he had worked for these several years.
Yet even as he changed into the clothes he found more comfortable than the dress of an English gentleman, lacing the leggings beneath his white tunic and tying the red sash about his waist, he could not quite banish the pleading look he had seen in those eyes.
‘How are you this morning, dearest?’ Harriet asked when her cousin woke and stared up at her from the tumbled sheets. ‘I think the second medicine that he gave you helped the sickness. You seemed to sleep peacefully after you drank it.’
‘I thought it was all a nightmare, but it is real, isn’t it?’ Marguerite pushed herself up against the pillows. ‘We are slaves, aren’t we? He said we belong to the Caliph …’ She gave a little sob of despair. ‘What are we going to do, Harry?’
‘We must bear it as best we can,’ Harriet told her. She saw tears well in Marguerite’s eyes and moved towards the bed, reaching for her hand. ‘Perhaps it will not be as bad as we fear, love. Kasim said the Caliph was a better man than the one who tried to buy us. He said we were lucky he was there.’
‘Lucky to be slaves?’ Marguerite brushed a hand over her eyes. ‘I would rather be dead.’
‘You should think carefully, dearest,’ Harriet said. ‘Would you rather be dead, truly? If we live, we may be rescued one day—I may manage to find someone who will let us be ransomed. If we die, that is the finish. We shall never see our homes or the people we love.’
Marguerite looked at her in silence. ‘I think …’ She shook her head. ‘You will think me foolish—but I believe I was falling in love with Captain Richardson and he with me.’
‘I do not think you foolish. He is young and handsome and he clearly liked you. Had you been given time to get to know him you might have loved him, Marguerite.’
‘Do you think he is still alive? Would the pirates have killed him—and my father? I do not think they would have surrendered easily.’
‘No, I am perfectly certain they would not, for they were trying to give us time to get away. It is a pity that the pirates saw what was happening and sent men after us.’ Harriet shivered. ‘Had we reached the shore, Don Sebastien Gonzales would have helped us I am certain.’
‘I wish he had never asked for me,’ Marguerite said suddenly angry. ‘If Papa had not been flattered by the proposal, we should still be in England.’
‘Yes, though I was thinking of travelling …’
‘I should never have left my home if I had guessed what could happen.’
Harriet sat on the bed beside her, reaching for her hand. ‘There is no point in wishing that we had not left home, dearest. We are here and must make the best of it.’
‘I do not know how you can be so cheerful.’
‘Weeping will not help. I am going on deck for some fresh air. Why don’t you wash your face and join me? There are some clean clothes for you to put on. Captain Kasim has been thoughtful enough to send water and these garments, also some fruit. The grapes are delicious.’
‘I want my own clothes …’ Marguerite pulled a face.
‘Some of these are quite pretty,’ Harriet said. ‘I chose white again, because I thought you might like the pink. If you do not wish to come, I shall go on deck for a little air.’
‘Are we not prisoners, then?’
‘We are free to go on deck. There is no escape, Marguerite. Even if you jumped into the sea they would come after you. Be sensible and wait until we are at the palace. I shall ask to speak to the Caliph and perhaps he will listen.’
Harriet left her cousin to decide whether she would get up or stay in bed. She climbed the small iron ladder to the deck above and hesitated as she stood looking about her. She had seen very little of the corsairs’ ship, because it had been dark when they were taken on board and she saw little shut away in the hold. This ship was very like an English ship, though most of the crew were Arab or perhaps Turkish. They glanced her way, but turned back to their work as the captain spoke to them in a language she did not understand.
He came to her then, looking at her oddly. ‘You should have used the veil to cover your hair, my lady.
It makes the men curious when they see you without a covering.’
‘Forgive me. I did not realise.’ Harriet’s cheeks were pink—she had known what the fine shawl was for, but had deliberately ignored it. ‘I was just admiring the ship—is it yours?’
‘What makes you think it is mine?’
‘Because it is unlike the corsairs’ vessel. I thought perhaps it was an English ship and I thought you might …’
Kasim did not smile as his eyes met hers. ‘Even if it were my ship I could not change course and take you home, Lady Harriet.’
‘May I ask why you owe such loyalty to the Caliph?’
‘He has been like a second father to me and his son is a younger brother.’ ‘I see.’
‘Clearly you do not,’ he said. ‘But we shall not argue. Will it content you if I promise to tell the Caliph of your request to be ransomed?’
‘Would you do that for us?’
‘For you, yes,’ Kasim said. ‘I fear it would not be possible to do the same for your cousin.’
‘Then I cannot leave her.’
For a moment hope had flared bright in her, but it was dashed as she saw this was his final word on the matter.
‘Then you have made your choice. Please feel free to enjoy the air on deck whenever you wish.’
He tipped his head to her and walked away to speak to his crew. Harriet bit her lip, watching from a distance as he gave orders the men jumped to obey. He was clearly in his element, a powerful man.
Why must he be so stubborn? Why could he not accept her offer of a ransom and set them both free? He had offered to ask the Caliph if she could be ransomed, she supposed because she was not beautiful enough to attract the Caliph’s attention—but Marguerite would have been left behind.
Harriet would not leave her. If they wanted to part them, she would hold on until they tore them apart.
Marguerite was better the next morning, but nothing could raise her spirits. However, she had ceased to weep at last. They had been treated well, given food and wine to drink and water to wash, also more clean clothes from which she had picked something to suit her colouring.
Since Harriet’s brief visit to the deck, they had seen little of the man who had bought them, though he had sent a young boy to ask if they were comfortable and had all they needed. She had recognised him as the slave master’s boy and asked if he too had been purchased for the Caliph.
‘The lord Kasim bought me for his own servant,’ Yuri told her with a grin. ‘I could have had my freedom had I wished, but where would I go? I shall be happy enough to serve my lord. He is an honest man and there are not many as generous as the lord Kasim.’
Harriet wondered why the lord Kasim did not come to the cabin himself, for it was surely his. He must be sleeping somewhere else for the time being. She had discovered things in the sea chest that must belong to him, and could not help wondering if he had deliberately been avoiding their company. Was he afraid she would ask again if he would ransom them?
Late in the afternoon on the second day, they reached what she believed must be the port of Istanbul. The buildings were strange and beautiful and Harriet stood entranced when she went up on deck to look.
‘It is a magnificent sight, is it not?’
Harriet turned to look at the man who had spoken. Unbidden, a smile came to her lips; her fear had somehow fled and she felt that she was on the verge of a great adventure.
‘I should have thought so had I come here as a visitor.’
‘Very few English ladies have come here as visitors, I imagine,’ he said. ‘I have heard of one or two bold spirits who adopted the life of their own free will. One woman in particular converted to the Muslim religion and was allowed to live here without being married or being a slave. I think she visited the court of the Sultan and talked to him of many things.’
‘She must have been an intrepid explorer. I should have enjoyed her life, I think.’
‘Indeed?’
‘My father and I travelled in Europe before he was taken ill some years ago. I always intended to see Constantinople one day …’
‘I am sorry it should be in this way, Lady Harriet.’
‘Are you?’ She arched her brows at him. ‘I am not impressed by words, sir. Actions would have spoken louder in your case.’
‘You asked too much. Please go below now. You will be sent for when we are ready to go ashore.’
‘Do you imagine I might dive into the sea? I see no point when I should be brought out and made to look foolish. I have told you before that I will not leave my cousin—until she is restored to her family. I shall not give up, sir. You and your master may do as you will, but I shall protect my cousin with my last breath.’
‘She is more fortunate than she knows.’
Kasim inclined his head to her, but not before she had seen a flash of doubt in those blue eyes. She was seething inside as she went below to wait for the order, but she said nothing to Marguerite. Her cousin was pale and wan, but she had stopped crying. Harriet thought that she must have accepted there was nothing to be done, at least for the moment.
Somehow, she must manage to speak to the Caliph. She must make him understand that it was wrong to enslave women who had been accustomed to freedom.
Kasim watched as Harriet went below. He was surprised at the feeling of unease he was experiencing. According to the culture in which he lived he had done nothing wrong in buying the women. He had, in fact, saved them from a far worse fate. Yet the look in Harriet’s eyes was accusing and made him feel vaguely guilty. He had tried to stay away from her as much as possible during the voyage, because although he had made his decision, when she was near he was aware of mixed emotions. Had she agreed to accept his terms he would have spoken to Kahlid and was almost certain a ransom could have been arranged for her—but the beauty was exactly what Hassan needed for his first wife.
However, when they were went ashore a little later, he dismissed his doubts as he made all the arrangements for their journey. The women were taken up in litters with silken curtains to hide them from the public gaze, each carried by four strong men.
‘You will travel in privacy,’ he told Harriet. ‘The casacche you are wearing will protect you from prying eyes, but you must keep your face covered at all times.’
‘My cousin is weary. Must we travel on at once? Could we not rest here for a while?’
‘You will be able to rest once we reach the Caliph’s palace. If we stayed here your cousin might be noticed—and you would discover that there are worse fates than the one you fear. Even the Caliph must bow if the Sultan requests a woman be sent to him. You would have no place in his harem, while your cousin would become a houri to a man much older than herself—at least this way you will be together for a while longer.’
She threw him a look of dislike and he knew that the thin thread of trust that had begun to form between them had snapped. It was obvious that she had continued to hope he would relent and take them home. She was angry with him. He thought perhaps she hated him.
Kasim set his expression in grim lines. He did not like the way this English woman affected his sense of honour, reaching a part of him he had thought long dead. He was no longer an English gentleman and could never return to the life he had once known even if he wished. His life was here, but more than once he had been tempted to give way to her and do as she asked, but that would be weakness. He had given his word to the man who had been almost a second father to him and he would not break it for a woman he hardly knew—even if she was a rather special woman with the power to keep him awake at night.
Harriet bit her bottom lip. She had known that escape would be difficult even if it were feasible, but he was giving them no chances, making threats to deter them from trying. Yet even had they managed it, Harriet knew there was nowhere to go. They would be searched for and found, and then they might be punished—and looking about her at the men that passed by on the docks, she realised that she felt safer with their captor than if she were alone. Perhaps if there had been no Marguerite and it was his harem she was headed for she might not have minded so very much.
No, she would not allow herself to have such thoughts. He was a barbarian, a man without morals or honour. She would be foolish if she let herself like him, though he had been concerned for Marguerite when she was ill.
‘It would be foolish to lose my investment, would it not?’
Bitterness welled up inside her. He was only concerned that the woman he had paid so much money for should not die.
Yet something told her that wasn’t true. He had been concerned and he had offered to ask if Harriet could be ransomed. It would be stupid to make an enemy of him, because he might be the only one that could help them … if he would. Harriet could not help thinking that he might still have some of his old values left. Perhaps deep inside him there was a little voice that told him it was wrong to enslave others.
Harriet threw a speaking glance at him before climbing into her litter, but he was not looking her way.
Because it was impossible for them both to go in the same litter, she and Marguerite had been forced to part. Harriet was anxious lest it was a cunning way to separate them and she risked looking out of the curtains about her litter several times to make sure that her cousin was still with them.
It was mid-day when they stopped for refreshments. The sun was high and its heat felt fierce to Harriet as she and Marguerite took shelter under an olive tree. They were offered fruit, bread, cheese and water; all but the water was refused by Marguerite who still looked unwell, but Harriet ate hungrily, enjoying her meal.
They had paused at a stream where several palm trees were growing. After she had satisfied her hunger, Harriet got up and wandered to look at the trees curiously. She knew what they were for—she had seen drawings—but they were the first she had seen growing and she was interested in all that was new and different.
‘The fruit is not ripe,’ Kasim said as he came to join her. ‘I would not advise picking the dates. They would not taste like those you were offered.’
‘They were very good,’ she replied, ‘as was all the fruit and the cheese—though different from the cheese I am accustomed to at home.’
‘We eat cheese made from the milk of a sheep. It is different, as many of our foods are here, but you will become accustomed to them.’
‘Yes, I suppose we shall.’ Harriet frowned at him. ‘My cousin still feels unwell. Would it not be possible to rest somewhere for a few days before we go to the palace?’
‘You seek to delay the inevitable,’ Kasim told her, his mouth set hard. ‘Word has been sent to the palace of our arrival. It is too late to draw back now. However, my offer to you still stands.’ ‘You know my answer.’
‘And you know mine. You do not understand, Lady Harriet. I have given my word and I cannot break it even if I regretted …’
Harriet’s heart jerked as he hesitated, because something told her that he was having second thoughts. Perhaps she could persuade him to see things her way even yet.
‘I know you are not without honour, sir.’ She touched his arm, a look of appeal in her eyes. ‘I was wrong to abuse you, but I was distressed by what had happened to us. I believe you when you say we might have fared much worse, but can you not understand what the loss of freedom would mean to my cousin? There is someone she cares for.’
‘She was not married?’ Kasim asked. ‘Perhaps if there was some form of betrothal …’ His words were lost as they heard the sound of shouting. Harriet saw that his men were gesturing to the horizon and, as she looked in the direction they pointed out, she saw a group of horsemen riding towards them fast. ‘Put your casacche on at once—and tell your cousin to do the same. I am not sure who our visitors are.’
Harriet rushed to tell her cousin and they both hastily donned the heavy outer garments they had taken off as they ate because of the excessive heat. Kasim told them to go back inside their litters and they obeyed him. The noise of horses’ hooves and the cloud of dust had grown bigger as the group of riders drew nearer.
‘It will be all right,’ Harriet said, catching her cousin’s hand moments before they parted. ‘Kasim will protect us.’
She knew her cousin was terrified that they were to be attacked. Kasim and his men had all drawn their swords, as if they too feared an attack. As she sat in the litter with the curtains drawn, Harriet tried to control her own fear. Kasim would not let anyone take them. He would protect his investment—yet she believed that, moments before he saw the riders, he had been thinking of giving in to her pleas.
Suddenly, she heard a burst of cheering and risked a glance through the curtains. She saw at once that the mood had changed and Kasim’s men were greeting the newcomers with smiles and laughter.
One of the men seemed to be a leader for the others genuflected to him. He was younger than Kasim and handsome in a wild, fierce way. He looked towards the litters, as if he wished to discover who was inside, but Kasim placed a hand on his arm and said something to him. For a moment his expression was mutinous, but then he nodded and for a few minutes the two men talked eagerly together, obviously great friends.
Then Kasim came towards the litter where Harriet sat. She withdrew inside, holding it open just a little so that she could see him.
‘Who is it?’
‘Prince Hassan came with some of the Janissaries to escort us to the palace. There have been hill tribesmen seen in the area and he knew I had only a few men with me. It is a great honour to have the prince as our escort, Lady Harriet. He was concerned for our safety, but his father would not be pleased if he knew—he does not like the prince to risk his own life.’
‘You seemed pleased to see him?’
‘The prince is like a brother to me,’ Kasim told her. ‘He is young and handsome and soon now he will take a bride.’
‘Oh …’ Harriet was at a loss to know what to say. She had hoped that she could persuade Kasim to let them rest for a day or so before they reached the palace, but now that the prince had come to escort them himself it was impossible. ‘Thank you for explaining.’
‘You should not concern yourself overly for your cousin, Lady Harriet. The future may bring more happiness for you both than you imagine.’
Harriet made no reply. She sat back in her litter as the order to move off was given. How could either Marguerite or she be happy as prisoners of the Caliph’s harem?

Chapter Three
The journey took much of the day, but they did not stop again for more than a few minutes so that the bearers could change places with other men. Once a hand appeared through the curtains and she was offered fruit and water, but the awkward, swaying motion of the litter made her feel disinclined to eat or drink on the move. She thought of the few moments at the stream and wondered what might have happened had the prince not arrived with his men. Would Kasim have made a concession? Sighing, she put the faint hope from her mind. Now that the prince was a part of their escort there was no prospect of a delay. Perhaps even Kasim could no longer control their destiny.
Harriet had begun to think that the journey would go on for ever, but towards dusk she heard the sound of trumpets, and, glancing out, saw a cluster of buildings, which she imagined must be the Caliph’s palace. At first glance it was very strange to her English eyes, but then she began to see how well it fitted its situation as a fort with a backdrop of forbidding hills.
As soon as they were inside the palace walls, the litters were deposited on the ground. Marguerite immediately jumped out and ran to join Harriet as she too emerged. She took Marguerite’s hand and they clung together, trying to take in the strangeness of their surroundings and yet glad to have arrived at their journey’s end. It was a relief to stand on her own two feet again, Harriet thought, and looked about her, wondering how soon she would be able to speak to someone in command and persuade him to ransom them both.
‘It is pink …’ Marguerite whispered to Harriet. ‘The walls are pink. It looks like something out of a fairytale.’
‘Yes, I suppose it does with those domes and the pink walls.’ Harriet smiled at her, attempting to give her courage, even though her own pulses were racing. ‘We must think of this as an adventure. Perhaps it will not be too terrible, dearest. At least we are both alive and still together.’
‘Yes …’ Marguerite attempted a wan smile. ‘Who is that man with Kasim? He came with the riders we thought might attack us.’
‘He is Prince Hassan, the Caliph’s son.’
‘Oh … he looks fierce.’
‘Yes, but quite handsome.’
‘He frightens me.’ Marguerite shrank against Harriet as Kasim came up to them.
‘Ladies …’ he bowed before them ‘… welcome to the Caliph’s palace. If you will follow me, I shall show you to your apartments.’
‘Where are you taking us?’ Harriet said looking at him suspiciously. Her heart was thudding wildly. ‘We shall be together?’
‘For the moment, yes,’ Kasim replied. ‘Later … that is for the Caliph to decide. His word is law and we must all obey him.’
‘Why?’ Harriet gave him a challenging look. Her eyes met his furiously. ‘Are you not a free man?’
‘I am free, but I have given my bond. I serve a man for whom I have admiration and respect. It is a matter of honour with me not to betray his trust.’
‘But we do not have either respect or admiration for him,’ Harriet replied. ‘We are Englishwomen and we bow our heads to no one but the Queen.’ It was not quite true, but it made her point and she saw a gleam of what might have humour in his eyes.
‘You must learn to curb your pride, lady. You are now a member of the Caliph’s household. By his law he may do anything he wishes with you—either of you. I would advise you to speak softly for … both your sakes.’
Marguerite pressed closer to Harriet’s side. Knowing that her cousin was anxious, Harriet did not push him further. They were truly slaves now, though Kasim had not treated them as prisoners on the journey. She sensed that things were different now and knew they might already have been beaten had this man been other than he was. So far they had been treated with respect. She must simply hope that the Caliph was of a similar temper and that she would get her chance to plead for their freedom.
They had both been given soft slippers, which made no sound on the polished marble floors. Inside the palace the walls were of many hues—many of them were tiled and quite beautiful. She could hear water and they passed several little courts with indoor fountains, which gave the palace a cool feeling. It was a blessed relief from the heat of the sun in the palace forecourt. Kasim led the way as they crossed through a paved courtyard and some beautiful shaded gardens into another part of the palace. Here, there were screens with pierced fretwork and the rooms seemed more private. When their guide stopped outside an impressive door studded with what looked like silver and semi-precious stones, Harriet caught her breath. She had seen something like this in one of her father’s books and understood what lay beyond. She glanced at Kasim as the door answered to his knock and a very large fat man with a shaved head answered it.
‘Is this place what I think it is?’ she asked Kasim as the man beckoned them inside.
‘I leave you here for I am not permitted beyond this door. Only the eunuchs and members of the royal family may pass here.’
‘You have brought us to the harem?’ Harriet threw an accusing look at him.
‘You will be safe here, ladies. I may see you again or I may not. It is for the Caliph to decide.’
‘Please …’ Harriet caught hold of his robes. Her hand brushed against his and she felt him flinch and withdraw. She guessed that he was finding it difficult to remain completely aloof, as he ought now that his work was done. His eyes widened, darkened, as though he had only this moment realised something. ‘I beg you, speak to the Caliph, tell him that we wish to be ransomed and will pay his price. It must be for both of us … please. I ask you as an English lady to an English gentleman.’
Kasim inclined his head. He hesitated, then took her hand and prised it from his robes, holding it for one moment before releasing it, almost as if he wished to comfort her. ‘You must go with Sulian now. Do as you are told and you will be treated fairly, but be warned. There are punishments for disobedience that you would not like. I should not wish to see you treated ill, lady.’
‘Help us …’ Harriet said as Marguerite’s arm was taken and she was drawn inside the door. ‘Please, sir. I do not think you belong here any more than we do. For pity’s sake, help us.’
‘Go with Sulian,’ Kasim said, but a little nerve flicked in his cheek and she saw indecision in his eyes—eyes that were much too blue to belong to an Arab. She could not be wrong. He was English born. He must surely have a conscience. ‘I have done my duty to my master. Forgive me, it is out of my hands now.’
Her heart sank at the words and anger replaced the fear. ‘You should be ashamed to serve a man who keeps others as slaves. You know what it is to be free. How can you accept favours from a man who is little more than a savage?’
‘Hush, woman!’ Kasim’s mouth was hard as he looked at her. ‘I think you have not been treated ill. The Caliph is a man of culture and wisdom—and he intends her great honour.’
‘But she is so young and she should be free to live as she pleases,’ Harriet pleaded, though she knew it was too late for Marguerite had already been led away. ‘Please help us.’
‘Please go now. I can do no more for you.’
Harriet saw that it was useless to plead. The eunuch was waiting, his face expressionless. She felt a wave of pity for him. He had lost so much more than his freedom; he was no longer a true man, for only through his mutilation could he be trusted to guard the ladies of the harem.
The door closed behind them with a clanging sound, which made Harriet shiver. Until this moment she had hoped against hope that their captor might relent and ransom them to their families. She had felt that somewhere inside the man with the blue eyes there was an inner core of compassion, but he had not relented. Now they were shut away in the Caliph’s harem, from which she doubted it would be possible to escape.
Marguerite looked at her uneasily. She reached out and took her hand, squeezing it as they followed the fat eunuch along a passage. There were doors to either side, which she realised led to private apartments, but he did not stop until he came to a large open room, which had fountains and benches made of stone and marble. There were flowers growing in pots and tubs and through an open door at the far end of the room, Harriet could see what looked like a beautiful garden. The eunuch was talking to a woman of perhaps forty years. Her eyes flicked towards them and she nodded several times. Finally, as the eunuch bowed to her and turned away, she lifted her hand, beckoning to them.
Harriet held tightly to Marguerite’s hand and they walked towards the woman. Her skin was olive-toned, eyes bright like a hawk’s, and she stared at them curiously for a moment before stretching out to remove the veil Marguerite had been given to cover her head. When she saw how beautiful Marguerite’s hair was she nodded and clapped her hands.
‘The lord Kasim has done well,’ she said in French. ‘The young one will do well for the Caliph’s son.’
‘What did she say?’ Marguerite asked and looked at Harriet in alarm.
‘She says that you are very beautiful,’ Harriet replied. At that moment she was pleased that her cousin had not attended her lessons in French. ‘May we know your name, please, madame?’
The woman’s eyes went to her. ‘You understand me? That is good. Some of the women do not and it makes life more difficult for them. Does the young one not understand?’
‘My cousin speaks only a few words of French, madame. If you speak slowly she may understand a little.’
‘Then I shall speak with you, wise one. You have the look of a wise woman. My name is Mellina and I am in charge of the Caliph’s harem. If you cause no trouble your life here will be pleasant, but if you are surly or disobedient the eunuch has whips that can punish without marking the skin. Our master has his favourites and seldom sends for the other women. Your purpose here will be to wait on the favourites, but your companion will not long be here if things go well.’
‘I hope that neither of us will stay here long. It is our wish to be ransomed. We have families who would pay a rich reward for our return.’
Mellina laughed mockingly. ‘No one has ever been ransomed in the time I have been here.’
‘No one? How long have you lived here?’
‘I was very young and beautiful when I first came to the palace. I pleased the Caliph’s son and he took me as one of his favourites. He is now the Caliph and he has grown sons of his own.’
Harriet felt chilled. ‘Did you have no one to rescue you?’
‘My father gave me to the Caliph as a gift in return for favours.’ Mellina shrugged. ‘My life here has been comfortable and for many years I was the favourite. Now I am in charge of the harem. I keep order here and the women respect me. Sometimes my lord sends for me just to talk. He still has some fondness for me, though others have taken my place in his bed.’
‘Does that not hurt you?’ Harriet asked.
‘It is our way. I knew my fate when I was but a child. You come from a different culture and it will be harder for you to settle to the life here, but it is useless to resist.’
‘What is she saying to you?’ Marguerite asked, pulling at Harriet’s arm. ‘I am hungry. Ask her if we can have food and water. I ate nothing earlier and now I am hungry.’
‘Madame, we have travelled a long way since leaving the ship. Marguerite could not eat because she was ill. I think she is a little better and needs something to eat and drink.’
‘Ah, yes, the little one is hungry.’ Mellina nodded and smiled. ‘Marguerite is a pretty name. I believe the Caliph’s son will be pleased with the gift his father has purchased for him.’
Harriet held back the violent protest that trembled on her tongue. How could she speak so casually of Marguerite’s life? It was not right that the Caliph could just give her to his son. She recalled that Marguerite had found the prince intimidating and her resolve hardened. She would do all she could to prevent her cousin being given to the prince. However, for the moment they had no choice but to do as they were told. Mellina seemed inclined to be friendly and it would be foolish to antagonise her.
‘Is there somewhere we can rest and eat?’
‘Come, I shall show you to your rooms. Clothes will be provided for you and you may wish to bathe to wash away the stains of travel.’ Mellina’s nose wrinkled. ‘You still have the smell of the slave market on you. I shall give you perfumes and oils. You will feel much better when you have bathed and eaten.’
‘Yes, I am sure we shall.’
Harriet took Marguerite’s arm. They followed the woman to a more secluded area where there was a bathing pool with small cubicles set round it. Two beautiful young women were washing themselves, attended by older women, who used perfumed oils and soaps to cleanse their skin and hair. In the cubicles women were lying on couches having their backs massaged with sweet oils; it was a scene of peace and contentment. They looked at the newcomers curiously. One of them rose from the water. She was completely naked and her skin was a pale gold, her waist tiny, her hips slender, though her breasts were full and round, the nipples dark as though she had borne a child. Her dark hair was wet and curled down to the small of her back. She seemed not to notice or care that she had shocked the newcomers by her nudity.
‘Who are you?’ she asked in French. Her eyes went over Harriet dismissively and then came to rest on Marguerite. She frowned, her mouth thinning in disapproval as one of the attendants placed a filmy wrap about her body. ‘What is your name?’
‘I am Harriet and my cousin’s name is Marguerite,’ Harriet replied, trying to ignore that it was still possible to see every part of the woman’s body. ‘May we know your name, madame?’
‘I am Fortunata, the Caliph’s favourite.’ Her dark eyes flashed with what Harriet sensed was jealousy. She was clearly protective of her domain. ‘Where did you come from and why are you here?’
‘We sailed from England and were on our way to meet my cousin’s fiancé,’ Harriet replied. ‘Our ship was attacked by corsairs and we were captured and taken to the slave market. It is my hope that the Caliph will allow us to be ransomed.’ Harriet’s mind worked quickly. It was possible that the Caliph’s favourite might be persuaded to help them. ‘If I could speak with the Caliph, or send a message to him, he might listen to our request.’
‘The young one is destined for the Caliph’s son,’ Mellina interrupted. ‘You have no need to fear either of them, for no one will want the other one.’
‘For the prince?’ Fortunata nodded and some of the malice faded from her eyes. ‘You both smell. I have finished here now, but my attendants will help you to bathe.’
‘You are very kind,’ Harriet replied. ‘Perhaps we could be allowed to bathe in private?’
Fortunata stared at her and then laughed. ‘I dare say you would prefer to hide your skinny bones, but the young one has nothing to hide.’
‘What is she saying?’ Marguerite asked and looked at Harriet in dismay. ‘They don’t expect us to bathe here in front of everyone?’
Harriet turned to Mellina. ‘Is there anywhere else we could wash more privately?’
Mellina’s eyes narrowed. For a moment she looked annoyed, then inclined her head. ‘You may use Katrina’s bathing pool. She is with the Caliph’s young children and will not mind. Come, it is this way …’
Harriet took Marguerite’s arm and steered her away from the bathing pool. She could feel Fortunata’s eyes boring into her back and feared they might have made an enemy of her. The Caliph’s favourite had clearly feared a rival when she first saw Marguerite, but the older woman’s words had reassured her. Harriet, of course, was no rival to any of them, but she knew that her cousin might be the target of some unkind looks if the other women were jealous of her.
Mellina took them into a secluded courtyard garden. Here there was a small pool surrounded by pillars. A marble bench was placed beside it and the smell of flowers was almost overpowering.
Mellina clapped her hands and women appeared with towels, soaps and perfume jars. It was clear that their intention was to help the two newcomers to bathe. Harriet spoke to them in the language she realised was the universal one in the harem.
‘Please leave us to manage for ourselves.’ Her request met with blank stares until Mellina issued a similar order and they disappeared into an alcove leading from the pool. Harriet looked at her cousin. ‘They think we smell and I dare say we do. I do not think we shall be fed until we have bathed—so we may as well get on with it.’
‘But there are no bathing gowns,’ Marguerite objected. ‘You will not bathe as … that woman did … without clothes?’
‘You may keep on your tunic if you wish,’ Harriet told her. ‘However, I think I shall take mine off, because it does smell and I am tired of being hot and sticky. Please turn your back until I am in the water and I shall do the same.’
‘Very well.’
As soon as Marguerite turned her back, Harriet stripped off her clothes and slid into the water. It had been slightly warmed by the hot sun and felt deliciously cool but not cold against her skin. She began to soap herself, her back towards Marguerite until she heard a little splash. Turning, she smiled at her cousin.
‘Is this not pleasant? I know my father used to swim in the lake at home. I often envied him, but this is even nicer for the water at home was usually freezing.’
‘It is pleasant.’ Marguerite took some soap and began to rub it into her body and her hair. She dipped underneath the water to rinse it and came up gasping for air. When she rose again she was smiling. ‘This is fun.’
Harriet nodded, then splashed her. Marguerite looked startled for a moment and then splashed her back. They both laughed, feeling happier as some of the tension slipped away.
When they had finished washing, they walked up the steps leading to the bench. Harriet allowed her cousin to go first, deliberately turning her back until Marguerite called that she was decent. Harriet followed and wrapped herself about. She was wondering what to do next when Mellina reappeared with some women bearing what looked like clothes of such fine soft material that it was possible to see through it.
‘You may choose which you prefer,’ Mellina said and spread the clothes out on the bench and the grass. ‘You will need the pants and the bodice for wear in the harem. If you are allowed outside the harem as a special treat for pleasing the Caliph, you will be given more suitable clothes to wear.’
Harriet gasped as she saw what she was expected to wear. Marguerite was looking quite interested and seemed to be inspecting them with a view to choosing her favourite colours.
‘Is there nothing else for me?’ Harriet asked. ‘You are wearing an overdress. May I not have something of the kind?’
Harriet looked down at the overgown that covered the trunk of Mellina’s body and was far more modest than the garments she had brought for them to see.
‘Only the older women wear these,’ Mellina told her. ‘Surely you do not wish to cover yourself? You have quite a good figure, better than I would have thought from the clothes you were wearing before—but if you wish for a tunic like mine you may have one.’
‘I should feel more comfortable,’ Harriet said. She saw that Marguerite had chosen her pants and a filmy shirt with a little embroidered jacket that finished in gilt tassels just above her waist. She was trying to work out how to put them on when a young girl came running out to help her. She was giggling and Marguerite laughed as she saw what she had been doing wrong.
Harriet smiled as she saw that her cousin seemed to have lost her terror. For the moment Marguerite was content enough, because most of the harem ladies seemed friendly. As yet she had no idea that she was destined as a gift for the Caliph’s son, and Harriet wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Surely there must be some way of reaching the Caliph? If only she could speak with him, she might be able to persuade him to ransom them to their families.
Would she see Kasim again? She had thought that just for a moment he had regretted bringing them here, that he had at last been tempted to help them. Yet why had he done so when she had begged him to help them? He had seemed sympathetic at the last, but he must be as ruthless and barbaric as his Caliph or he would never have brought them here to a life of slavery.
Kasim was deep in thought as he walked away from the harem. He did not know why it should be, but he was deeply troubled by what he had done. The look in Lady Harriet’s eyes as her cousin was led away had cut him to the heart. Had he been able he might have called her back and taken them both to their homes in England, but he had known once Prince Hassan arrived with his men that the time for such action was over.
He had tried to smother his feelings of guilt that he had not done so from the first, telling himself that he had saved the women from a terrible fate by buying them for the Caliph’s harem. Kahlid was no longer young and he hardly ever bothered to send for one of his houris. He had a favourite wife with whom he spent much of his time. It was likely that Lady Harriet would be allowed to find her own niche and never be troubled by the Caliph’s attentions. Many women were only too happy to live in the harem, especially those who had little hope of marriage in their own lands.
Kasim judged Harriet to be in her mid-to-late twenties. She was attractive, but not beautiful. Since she claimed to have a fortune of her own, she must have decided against marriage at some point. He wondered why and wished that he had taken the opportunity to ask her so many things.
He had tried to stay away from her on the ship. It was clear to him now that he had been hiding from the feelings she aroused in him, and his conscience had begun to bother him more than he cared to admit. Kasim could probably arrange a ransom for Harriet, but she had made it clear she would not leave without her cousin. Once the Caliph saw how lovely Marguerite was, he was bound to claim her for his son’s bride.
Hassan had not yet been told of his father’s wishes as far as he was concerned. He had come to meet Kasim, because he was curious about his mission and wondered what had kept him away from the palace for so many weeks. Hassan had wanted to see the women once he knew that Kasim had brought some new additions for the harem, but when told he must wait until his father permitted it, he had curbed his impatience.
‘My father usually allows me to pick from the new women,’ he said confidently. ‘Tell me, Kasim—are they beautiful?’
‘One is—one is a hellcat,’ Kasim said, though he hardly understood his motives for labelling Harriet with the title Yuri had given her.
What was he going to do about the two English women he had purchased in Algiers? Kasim frowned as he realised that their fates were no longer in his hands. He had delivered them to the harem and there it should end … unfortunately, the look in Harriet’s eyes would haunt him both waking and sleeping.
There was little he could do for her cousin, but perhaps Harriet’s fate could be resolved with a little persuasion. For the moment he must visit the Caliph for he was sure to be eager for news.
‘You have done well, Kasim.’ Caliph Kahlid bin Ossaman walked away from the small window that overlooked his chief wife’s private gardens. It was screened from the eyes of others in the presence chamber, but gave him a clear view of the bathing pool. He had enjoyed watching the two women playing in the water. It was obvious that they were both modest, for they thought themselves unobserved, which was impossible in the harem. There were spyholes everywhere so that he might watch the women without them being aware of it. The women charged with discipline, and sometimes the eunuchs also watched them, though this last was forbidden and could be punished. The English women did not know of the spyholes yet and had played innocently together. ‘I believe my son will like his gift. I shall have her prepared for him in a day or so when she has rested and become accustomed to her surroundings. If he is happy with what he sees, she will become his first wife.’
‘She has been very ill,’ Kasim said, wondering why he was embroidering the truth to a man he both liked and admired. ‘It might be as well to give her longer to settle so that she recovers her looks. Besides, she ought to be taught the faith if she is to be Hassan’s wife.’
‘Yes, what you say is true,’ Kahlid said and inclined his head. ‘I was thinking of sending Hassan to the Sultan’s court for a week or two. I believe I shall do so. The young woman will settle in after a while—but it is not necessary for her to learn everything at once. Hassan will teach her and if she is all that he requires, she may convert to the faith then.’
‘But she would not be his wife under the law unless she consented.’
‘You are a better servant of Allah than I,’ Kahlid said. ‘I shall consult with the mullah and hear what he has to say. I believe it may be enough for her to give lip service at first.’
Kasim saw that the beauty’s fate was sealed. She would be his son’s wife or his houri and it might be better if the ceremony went ahead, even if it were not a true marriage in accordance with the law. He knew that Kahlid sometimes took the law into his own hands, bending it to suit his wishes, and to argue would only anger him.
‘The older woman … I bought her because you spoke of needing a teacher for the children. The lady Katrina is sometimes unwell now that she is with child herself, and it might ease her if she did not have so many duties in the nursery.’
‘This woman is thinner than I like in a houri,’ Kahlid said, ‘though attractive in her way; her hair is an interesting shade. Is she intelligent? Would she be able to teach my children to speak English?’
‘Yes, my lord. I am certain she would be more than capable. I believe she speaks French as well as a few words of Arabic.’
‘She has studied extensively?’ Kahlid looked thoughtful as Kasim nodded. ‘Very well. For the moment I shall leave her in your hands, Kasim. She is not beautiful enough to interest me, but she may serve as a teacher. She will be of the harem and yet not of the harem. You may send for her tomorrow and take her to the children. You will observe her, and you may order her life as you see fit for the moment. I may watch from behind the screens. If she does well, she shall take Katrina’s place as the children’s teacher, at least until my wife gives me another son.’

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