Page 73 of Inconvenient Honor
They made their way past sellers of figs and silver, vendors of fruits and sandalwood. In that other time, without her concerns about Richard’s reaction hanging over her, she might have lingered. This time, she had to be careful not to get lost in thought.
Ahmet reached a narrow passage paved in worn cobbles that opened next to a booth of rug sellers. Lily followed him into the shadows between two stone walls. The rear guard had just followed in behind her when it happened.
Lily heard a grunt behind her and turned to see her keeper on the ground, blood spilling over cobblestones from the gaping incision across his neck. When she spun to run for Ahmet, unseen hands pulled at her veils. She twisted loose but found herself trapped between the unseen danger behind and shadowy figures swarming the man in front of her. He fought like a madman but looked about to fall.
Lily clutched her middle and began to pray.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Liston’s secretary shot Richard a cautious glance and made himself scarce.
When they had returned from Richard’s disastrous meeting with Lily the previous night, the ambassador had suggested, politely, that they avoid “disturbing” Sahin Pasha or other officials for a few days. He hinted that Richard might calm himself first. “Delicate diplomacy, Glenaire, delicate is called for.” Richard had raged; the ambassador had reasoned. This afternoon, Liston merely disappeared.
The first time Richard asked to see Liston, the man’s secretary cheerfully refused him. The second time he tugged at his elaborate cravat and fidgeted nervously in his chair. The third time the full wrath of a frustrated marquess came down on the man’s thinning hair. His swift departure prevented a fourth.
You know better than to berate a servant. It isn’t his fault Liston made himself unavailable all morning. Damn Liston anyway.
Liston wouldn’t dare forbid the Marquess of Glenaire, son and heir of the Duke of Sudbury and Castlereagh’s own protégé, from appearing at the palace unannounced and alone, but he had come damned close, and now he avoided Richard completely.
The image of Lily pregnant with his child haunted his dreams and bedeviled his day. She’s locked in the damned Seraglio and won’t talk to me—not that talk has gotten me anywhere so far. His urge to act, frustrated at every turn, refused to die. It roiled in his gut and drove him to pace like a madman.
Richard prowled the embassy, frightening the maids and growling at footmen. Only the boy who cleaned the steps found him amusing.
“Sunny day, Lord English,” the boy said. “Good day for walk.”
I haven’t slept, Lily refuses to see reason, and Liston refuses to petition Sahin Pasha. Why should I care about the day?
He spun on his heels, went back in, and slammed the door. In the reverberating sound of the slamming door, a second thought struck him.
Why not a walk—to the wharf perhaps? What harm would it do to leave a calling card for Sahin Pasha?
Moments later, hat on head and cane in hand, he went back out the door. The cane, with its cleverly concealed sword, normally sat in Liston’s private office. He took it without qualms. It serves him right for avoiding me all afternoon.
“Best not get lost,” the boy told him when he ran down the steps. “I can show you where you want to go. I know everything.”
Richard ignored him. He gripped the cane, glad for its support.I’m not a total fool.
“Getting late, Lord English! Best not go far,” the boy shouted after him.
After the second wrong turn, he wished he’d taken the boy for a guide. After a third, he thought he had his bearings, but light faded and he dared not retrace his steps through the maze of streets. He peered downhill through a narrow passage to see golden light at the far end. The docks were all downhill. From there he could pay someone to take him back to the embassy.What a fool’s errand!
He gripped the sword cane tightly and started down the narrow passage. After he passed one heavy wooden door and then another, he reached the halfway point. Below him, a tall turbaned figure turned into the passage, briefly blocking the light. Richard could see a small person covered with veils behind him followed closely by another tall man.
A wealthy woman and her guards, he supposed. Those bruisers won’t look kindly on a foreigner blocking her way.
Caught in the narrow passage, he would have to go back or push himself against the wall. Before he could formulate a response, the farthest man fell like a rock, a door opened in front of the trio, and a swarm of dark figures spewed out.
Richard could see the taller guard under attack from at least three men; the woman needed help. He ran toward the attack when hands reached out to grab her. Sprinting downhill, he saw her twist to escape and run toward her first guard. Her veils fell away.
Lily! What on earth?
Richard ran faster; icy fear and blood red rage drove him downhill into Lily’s attackers. The remaining bodyguard blocked his way. The man wrestled with three of them, knife slashing, arms straining. Richard’s sword found one attacker, but another took his place. They seemed to multiply in the dark.
Brief snatches of Lily appeared behind the melee. He could see flowing ribbons of bright green silk ripple and jerk. He struggled to focus on the attackers. He felled one attacker with an uppercut that would make Jackson proud, but another blocked him.
Concentrate. You’re no good to her dead.
Lily’s screams tore at him, and he fought like an animal. The guard went down at last, a dagger in his ribs. Over his body Richard saw a hood go over Lily’s head, muffling her screams. He pulled his attention back a moment too late. Searing pain exploded in his head, and he fell forward into darkness.
