A Devil Named DeVere (The Devil DeVere)(65)

"The truth offends you?"

"The truth? The man is shallow, self-absorbed, and devoid of integrity. He is incapable of deep feeling."

Salime shook her head with a scowl. "He is also a fool to care for one who does not even know him."

Diana was befuddled. "I know him well enough and am confounded why you should defend him so."

"Why? Because he saved my life and at some expense to his own," the exotic woman replied.

"How?" Diana demanded.

"You wish to know all? Then I will tell you, Khanum. I said I was cast from the Harem; I was drugged and cut by an unknown rival, taken far across the city away from Topkapi Palace, and left in the street. I had no money and no way to find my way back even if they would have taken me back in. Worse, I had no protection. I was discovered by a slave trader who raped me before taking me to a brothel to sell me into prostitution. Effendi saw me there."

"Effendi?"

"Lord DeVere. He had seen me dance at Topkapi. He arranged to buy me instead. This was no small thing, Khanum."

"To buy a slave? I daresay he could afford a thousand of them."

"You do not understand. In my country infidels may not buy slaves. There is a severe penalty. Only those of my faith may do so."

"Then how did this come about?" Diana asked.

"Effendi, my lord, had to profess the true faith and sacrifice his own flesh to the knife."

"I don't follow your meaning," Diana said.

"He had to convert to Islam and be purified by circumcision, Khanum," Salime explained.

Diana's mouth formed a silent O. She studied Salime for a long, incredulous moment and then scoffed. "He bought you for his own selfish pleasure."

"He did not! He bought me and then freed me out of nothing more than pity. You cannot tell me my lord has no feeling, no integrity. It is a lie."

"But are you not a woman of pleasure, Salime?"

"Yes," she said proudly. "But it is now my choice to be so."

"But why?" Diana asked. "Why would any woman choose such a thing?"

"I was already ruined and had no dowry to wed. Thus, I could only hope to make my living by dancing or by prostitution. Scarred as I am, I would have been among the lowest of the low in my country. Here I can remain partially veiled and am considered an exotic flower to command a premium price. I have much money saved. I shall not work long. Maybe one more year, and then I retire a wealthy woman. Perhaps I shall open my own house, or mayhap go to France or Italy. I have freedom that I never knew in my country."

"Are you not his mistress?" Diana asked.

"Not in any sense you would understand, Khanum. I massage him. I dance for him. He allows me to serve him this way because I desire to do so, but he does not demand from me. He does not take. He has never spent his seed inside my body. It is only you he wants, and so I will do all in my power to ensure that you will please him well."

"This has been a most enlightening conversation, but I fear once more that you are misled. I have no interest in Lord DeVere—to be his mistress, his odalisque, or anything else."

Salime exhaled an exasperated sound. "What woman would not wish such a man? It is not you, but he who would soon be enslaved, heart and soul—prostrate at your feet! You are a fool to refuse what I freely offer, Khanum, so I waste no more of my precious time. Should you, however, come to your senses, I may be found at King's Place. But do not wait too long, for perhaps my services will then not be so cheap."

Salime rose with jangling bracelets and tinkling bells and departed without another word, her giant eunuch trailing, and her words echoing long after her. He is also a fool to care for one who does not even know him... It is he who would soon be enslaved, heart and soul—prostrate at your feet.





Chapter Twenty-one


Thornhill Park, Yorkshire, two weeks later



Gowned in apricot silk moiré trimmed with peach bows and blond lace, Lady Vesta Chambers descended the stairs on her father's arm. The color combination of her dress was both striking and innocent, complimenting her flawless complexion and enhancing the natural blush in Vesta's cheeks. With her mahogany ringlets elegantly coifed atop her head, appearing as regal as a queen surveying her domain, Vesta paused to gaze upon the crowd of well-wishers that packed the ballroom. Her countenance luminous with happiness, Diana thought she had never appeared more lovely and radiant.

Although always considered uncommonly handsome, Diana knew she paled in comparison to the younger woman. This night was a stark reminder of the ephemeral quality of youth, and that her own had been wasted. At two-and-thirty, the first blush was long off the rose, and her reflection had begun to show faint lines worn by unhappy years. Although delighted for Vesta, who would soon begin a new life as Captain Hewett DeVere's wife, Diana wondered dismally what her own future would hold.

"What a beautiful bride she makes," Lady Phoebe Chambers gushed, appearing at Diana's side.

"She looks so much like her mother," Diana remarked with a hint of sadness.

"Annalee was your cousin, was she not?" Phoebe asked.

"Yes," Diana replied. "But we were much more like sisters."

"I can imagine how difficult all of this must be for you," Phoebe said. "My marriage to Ned, Vesta's engagement to Hew; the suddenness of it must have been quite a shock, but I never intended to come between any of you, you know. Ned is very hurt that our marriage may have alienated you."