Page 10 of Inconvenient Honor
“Perhaps it’s true. Volkov?” Richard demanded.
“That’s the thing. Left shortly before. On horseback, his one bag tied to his saddle. I thought you would want to know.”
“A meeting?” Will asked.
“An assignation more likely,” Heaton said. “Dalliance on the road. Volkov hardly took his eyes off her all week.”
A vision of Lilias Thornton in Volkov’s arms, in his bed, exploded in Richard’s mind. Willing or unwilling, he found the idea disgusting. Cold fury, all the more potent for being controlled, took hold. He had warned her to stay away from Volkov.
She knows something. I’m sure of it. And Volkov has some hold over her.
“Do you want me to follow them? If so, I need to leave immediately,” Heaton asked.
Richard had already risen. “No. I’ll take care of Miss Thornton myself.”
Heaton bowed out.
“I’ll need your fastest horse. I need Mercury,” Richard told Will.
A knowing look came over Will’s face. “You’re mighty anxious to intercept this Thornton woman, if you dare ask for my favorite mount.”
“I know he has your heart. I’ll bring him back safely.” Richard stuffed the papers into the dispatch case. “I’ll be back by late afternoon to finish this.”
“I have no doubt you’ll care for my horse. It’s the Thornton woman’s fate that concerns me.”
Chapter Five
“What do you find so amusing, little one?” Sahin Pasha stretched his aging legs across the floor of a private parlor in an undistinguished inn, lifted a flagon of ale, and regarded Lily fondly.
Away from Chadbourn’s manor and his official duties, the old man wore western clothes. Anyone observing the fit of his coat and his comfort would know them for his normal dress. If they ignored his dark skin, they might take him for a local squire. No one would identify him at first glance as the representative of his Sultan.
“Hmm,” he repeated, “what amuses you?”
“You, favored uncle. Sitting in this very English Inn sipping ale,” Lily replied. She had pestered him to teach her Turkish during long winter nights in Saint Petersburg when cards and conversation in her father’s apartment gave the Turks solace from the cold and dark. She spoke it well, but tonight they spoke English.
“I like your English ale,” the old man said. He hefted the tankard to demonstrate.
“I feel better just laughing with you,” Lily said.
“You looked happy enough when I observed you with your court,” Sahin told her. “I thought it best not to scatter your admirers with attention from an elderly eastern potentate.”
Lily acknowledged the truth of that with a sad nod. “I’ve taken your advice and entered the marriage stakes.”
He shook his head. “Marriage stakes! Wretched term. My country has more civilized customs. We protect our young women soolder, wiser heads can ensure the honor of their suitors. You English parade your young women like horses for auction.”
“It feels that way some days,” she agreed. “So much posture and appearances and only my Aunt Marianne to look after me.”
“The very neglectful aunt. It will not help your marriage prospects if people know you rode cross country alone for this very inappropriate meeting,” he chided.
Lily’s face heated; she stared at her tankard.
“Do you plan to tell me what troubles you, Lily? What drove you to this foolish undertaking?”
She looked up into sympathetic eyes, but words didn’t come. Belatedly she remembered that Sahin’s loyalty to his country came before his concern for an insignificant foreign woman. A man in his position did not let kindness outweigh duty.
“You know I fled Volkov,” she began.
The old man nodded. “You remind me again why we Turks protect our women. The man should be shot.”
