Page 75 of Silver Angel

“I’ve been summoned for tonight,” the brunette said in amazement. “I wasn’t expecting…well, no one would have expected…he must be angry with Sheelah for some reason to ignore her like this. Yes, that must be it.” She sat up, grinning delightedly. “Oh, but I certainly can’t complain. I thought I would have to wait weeks and weeks to have my turn again, what with you here now.” She placed a hand excitedly on Chantelle’s arm. “Be happy for me, Shahar. I do so like this business of making love.” And then she was off, pulling her servant along toward the bath cubicles.

Chantelle didn’t move or even breathe for a moment, until she realized her stupid eyes were starting to water.Oh, God, don’t you dare!

She put her head down and managed to inconspicuously wipe each eye against her forearms before she jumped up. She had to get out of this crowded room immediately, and she didn’t dare risk the long walk back to her rooms along paths just as crowded. No one, not anyone at all, was going to be able to say she had seen Chantelle the least bit disturbed by how quickly the Dey had lost interest in her. Quickly? No, most everyone thought she had been sharing his bed all week, which would make it even worse if the women believed she was upset to lose that privilege now.Privilege, ha!God, what an utter fool she had been!

She stood there for a moment, agonizing that she couldn’t think of a single place where she could be alone long enough to get herself under control. And then it came to her, where the steam was so thick that even if she wasn’t alone, no one could see her clearly enough to discern her emotions.

Quickly, Chantelle made her way toward the steam rooms, swallowing against the knot that had formed in her throat, praying that no one noticed her departure or at least couldn’t see her eyes, which were already filling with moisture again. One of the steam rooms was empty, thank God. She stretched out on a bench in the corner and buried her head in her arms. The tears were impossible to hold back.

That rotten, perfidious, lecherous sod. She hated him, despised him. Oh, God, it hurt, and it was her own fault. She was so stupid! To think for one moment that he might have had feelings for her other than simple lust. How naive could she be? And how quickly he showed his true colors the moment he got what he wanted. But never again. If the Burkes did anything, they learned from their mistakes. So she had been seduced. So she was silly enough to have formed some romantic notions about the man. Thank God those would be nipped in the bud before the relationship got serious and she imagined herself in love with him. She couldn’t begin to think how she would feel now if that were the case. This was bad enough.

What was so appalling was that she had truly deluded herself. She should have expected this. Hadn’t she had enough warnings? Just about everyone had told her how much Jamil loved Sheelah, but was he faithful to his first wife? Not even a little bit. So what in hell had made her think it would be any different in her case? He didn’t love her. Even if he did, he wouldn’t give up his other women for her, the mothers of his children, his Sheelah. She had been harboring impossible dreams, so she had no one to blame for what she was feeling now but herself.

A moment later, Chantelle heard voices outside the room, getting louder.Let them pass, please. But if they didn’t…

She sat up and quickly dried her face with the sleeve of her robe. She had to be grateful for small things inasmuch as Adamma hadn’t applied her cosmetics yet, so there was no telltale kohl smeared by her tears. Stupid tears. How dared she cry over that son-of-a-camel’s-turd? A giggle almost escaped. She would have to stick to English curses. She didn’t have the flair Adamma had for Turkish ones.

The steam in the room wasn’t quite as thick now, so it was probably one of the attendants coming…no, that tone was too imperious for an attendant. “…want no more excuses! It should never have taken this long!” There was a man’s soothing voice in reply, but he was speaking too low for Chantelle to hear what he said. The woman’s angry voice was quite clear, however, as she continued. “Take this and sell it. If that doesn’t buy some courage, I’ll have to—” There was an interruption by the man. “What about the boy?” Another mumbled reply, and then the woman said. “Yes, go ahead and arrange it. Nothing else has been able to draw him out of the palace, so maybe that will. But if it does, there had better be results. No more bungles or I will take it out of your hide. And don’t you dare shush me, Ali! No one is—”

Chantelle barely heard the last, for they did indeed pass on down the hall. Too bad, for whatever they were arguing about was just getting interesting. Not that she had made head or tail out of it, but it had served to get her mind off herself for a moment, and now she felt she could safely make it back to her rooms.

She didn’t notice the two people standing at the end of the hall when she left the steam room, but they noticed her.

“Do you think she could have overheard?” the eunuch asked.

“No, but just in case…”

“I’ll see to it personally,lalla.”

Chapter Thirty-five

Chantelle was blurry-eyed when she entered the baths the next afternoon, but nothing could have kept her away, not her queasy stomach, not Adamma’s warnings that everyone would be talking about her today, and certainly not her own desire to hide herself away. She had too much pride for that, and besides, she had herself in hand now. As far as anyone could tell by looking at her, she wasn’t the least bit upset over what had happened yesterday.

But Adamma hadn’t exaggerated. She was the center of attention. If she had been favored by Jamil for only a day or two, that would have been normal and not worth more than a passing comment. But she had been summoned not only before her training was even near completion, but also for six nights in a row, which was apparently a new record for Jamil. Because of that, a definite reaction was expected.

Well, she had reacted all right, and exactly how it was hoped she would by those who were envious of her. But she’d be damned if anyone here would know it. So she endured the sneers and gloating looks, the whispers and outright laughter when she came near, though to be fair, she realized not all the women were so petty in their jealousy. She even managed to smile through a run-in with Noura, who couldn’t wait to tell her that Jamila was so exhausted that she was still sleeping at this late hour.

That had hurt, because she had felt the same way yesterday morning. She was exhausted today as well, but for a different reason. She had found no pleasure in last night’s sleeplessness. The whole evening had been a miserable experience. She had refused all visitors and so suffered only Adamma’s company. And the girl had behaved as if she were the one out of favor, moping around with a long face.

Misery loves company, but Chantelle would rather have done without last night. She hadn’t been able to eat more than a few bites of her dinner, thanks to her emotionally distraught state, and even that much she had lost later in the night. Her stomach still didn’t feel up to nourishment, which was another mark against Jamil. The bloody sod had given her indigestion.

Chantelle had just left the baths to enter the communal chamber when Adamma rushed in, wreathed in smiles, to tell her she had been summoned for tonight. And the girl couldn’t have said this quietly. No, she had to practically shout it, deliberately, Chantelle suspected. But Aunt Ellen would have been proud. Chantelle didn’t even bat an eye. She did no more than nod and calmly leave thehammamto return to her rooms, giving the impression that she accepted the summons as a matter of course. But she didn’t. No, not in the least.

Once in her quarters, she went straight into her bedchamber and did not come out. She could hear Adamma pacing on the other side of the curtain that separated the two rooms. She hadn’t said a word to the girl, so she was no doubt anxious to begin the preparations. But Chantelle had nothing to prepare for.

Adamma waited no more than twenty minutes before she finally poked her head through the curtain. She found her mistress in front of the window, staring out at the garden.

“Lalla?”

“Yes?”

“Shouldn’t we begin—”

“No.”

“But—”

“I’m not going, Adamma.”