Chapter 10

M urrough O'Flaherty made the passage from India back to England in record time. Thus it was that he anchored his ship in the London pool on a snowy day in late January, 1590, slightly less than a year after he had left. Putting ashore at the O'Malley warehouses, he learned that his mother and stepfather were in residence at Greenwood, having arrived back in England some three months earlier. A horse was immediately put at his disposal, and Murrough rode as quickly as he could to his mother's house. The blustery weather gave him one small advantage in that the streets were fairly empty as late-afternoon darkness began to claim London town. The bitter cold had sent even the hardiest beggar seeking shelter. He galloped through the gates of the mansion's grounds and up the sweeping driveway. Immediately the door was opened, and a groom ran to take his horse as he leaped from it.

"Welcome home, Captain O'Flaherty!" said the elderly majordomo as Murrough strode into the main entry.

"Where is my mother?" Murrough demanded.

"At this time of day she would be in her apartments resting with Lord de Marisco," came the servant's reply.

Murrough took the stairs two at a time, moving from the main level of Greenwood to the third floor where the family's private apartments were located. His knock brought Daisy to the door of Skye's chambers.

"Captain O'Flaherty!" Daisy fell back, and then she flung herself forward to hug him mightily. "Come in, Captain! Oh, I just knew that you'd get home safe. Where is Mistress Velvet and my Pansy? Have you come on ahead?"

"So many questions, Daisy," he chided her gently. "Tell my mother that I am here, please."

"There is no need, Murrough," said Skye O'Malley de Marisco as she came through the door of her bedchamber into the dayroom. Taking him in her arms, she kissed him. "My dearest son, I am so thankful to have you back. Where is Velvet? Will she be coming along shortly? We've been so worried. It has been all I could do to prevent Adam from taking one of my ships and sailing back out to sea to find her." She held him away from her, looking at him closely, and then her marvelous Kerry-blue eyes clouded. "What has happened, Murrough?"

"How could you escape, Mother, and not leave us some word, some sign? I arrived back in Bombay in less than six months!"

"What has happened, Murrough? Tell me this instant!"

"Tell us both," came Adam de Marisco's terse words as he came out of the bedchamber. "Where is my daughter, Murrough? Where is Velvet?"

Murrough took a deep breath. 'Twas best, he knew, to get the worst over with first. There would be time later for the full explanation. "Velvet is at the court of the Grand Mughal, Akbar. In his harem, to be precise."

Daisy gave a little shriek of dismay even as her mistress cried out, "Dear God!" Skye's eyes closed, and she swayed where she stood as a thousand memories came flooding back to her. She was too strong a woman, however, to faint, and Adam's arms about her steadied her enough to open her eyes. She could feel him trembling against her, and immediately her total concern was for her husband. Turning, she took his face in her hands. "I'm sure 'tis not as bad as Murrough has made it sound, my darling, but nonetheless I think I need to sit down. Sit by me, Adam. Please." She looked at her son as she settled herself next to her husband. "What happened?" was all she could say.

"We reached Bombay in good time, Mother. I had not delayed a moment in gathering the ransom and returning with it. The Jesuit was awaiting us. He attempted to elicit the gold from me, but I reminded him that our bargain had been that you and Adam would be waiting for us on the dock so that we might be certain that you were both safe. He was finally forced to admit that you had escaped. He demanded the gold, nevertheless, and I told him that I had nothing to pay for. Naturally Father Ourique was not particularly pleased. He had come well prepared, Mother, with a goodly troop of soldiers who lay hidden on the docks. The Jesuit took Velvet and Pansy from the ship to the residence of the Portuguese governor, agreeing to return them when we delivered your ransom. I had no reason to believe that he would not keep his promise, and I could not endanger my sister by haggling. We put back to sea immediately, and the following day I returned with our fleet and the Jesuit saw to the unloading of the gold.

"When it was off our ships, Father Ourique and I rode to the governor's palace to get Velvet and Pansy. When we got there, the bastard who is their governor told us that he had sent Velvet and her servant to the Mughal as a gift. I thought the Jesuit was going to have a fit where he stood, for he is an honorable man; and had it not been for the governor's bodyguards, Mother, I would have killed Don Marinha-Grande then and there! I will give Father Ourique credit. He threatened the governor with excommunication, but the Portuguese bastard just laughed at him. It was no sin, he claimed, to send a heretic Englishwoman to Akbar's harem. When the Jesuit reminded him of Velvet's faith, that she was not a heretic but a loyal daughter of the church, the governor laughed and said that the Spanish king would not punish him for ridding the world of an English bitch.

"We left the palace then, and I spoke with the padre about retrieving my sister. He told me quite frankly that it was impossible. We could not remove Velvet from a caravan meant for the Mughal without an army, and once she arrived in his capital of Lahore it would be impossible to see her ever again. The Muslims are jealous of their women, and although the Mughal is more civilized than most, he is still a man of India. Father Ourique said we must face the fact that Velvet is lost to us."

"The Jesuit is a fool then if he thinks I will allow my daughter to spend the rest of her life in some Muslim's harem!" snapped Adam de Marisco. He turned to his wife. "How soon before we can set sail, my love?"

"Not soon enough," said Skye. "Velvet is already a part of this ruler's life. We have dealt with this sort of thing before, Adam. We must plan carefully, for we will get only one chance to retrieve our child. We have an advantage in that they will not suspect we are coming."

"Their capital is hundreds of miles from the coast, Mother," said Murrough. "We might get there, but could we get back? It will not be as simple as your escape from Fez once was."

She nodded. "I know. This will have to be different, and I will need time to consider it."

"Every minute we waste brings Velvet closer to that devil's bed!" exploded Adam.

"My darling," Skye said matter-of-factly, "if Velvet was sent as a gift to the Mughal, he has already most certainly bedded her. It is not the worst fate that can befall a woman."

"You were older, stronger, more worldly," Adam replied.

"My precious little Velvet is barely a child."

"Your precious Velvet is an impossible minx who led me a merry chase at court before finally being brought to the altar," said Alexander Gordon, who had only heard the end of Adam's sentence as he entered the room. "Murrough! What the hell possessed ye to take my wife off to India, and where is the wench? I've a score to settle with her, leaving me wounded and half-dead to be nursed by strangers!"

Murrough O'Flaherty's jaw dropped open in his complete and utter shock. "You're dead!" he said.

"If I am there's none who's yet dared to tell me so," came back Alex's amused reply.

"Murrough," said his mother, realizing that there was very definitely something amiss, "I want you to tell me why you took Velvet with you when you left London. Alex, sit down."

"First tell me where Padraic is," demanded Murrough.

"What the hell has Padraic to do with this?" asked Adam.

"Where is he?"

"Why do you want Padriac?" asked Skye. "What can he possibly have done? He has been down at Clearfields for months now, and I was only able to get him to come to London for Twelfth Night because I told him you should be back from India before the end of the month."

"Exactly how long has he been at Clearfields , Mother?"

For a moment Skye's brow furrowed in thought, and then she said, "I don't really know, Murrough. Is it important?"

"Get him!" said his elder brother grimly.

"Daisy," said Skye. "Fetch Lord Burke. Murrough won't continue his story until you return."

Daisy hurried out the door, and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Skye looked at her husband of over seventeen years. He would be sixty this year, and his dark hair was already well silvered, but it only had the effect of making him more handsome and distinguished, she thought. His dark blue eyes were still lively. If he had a weakness it was his only child, their daughter, Velvet. How often over the years had she deferred to him in the raising of their child and all because she could not bear that he have any less than a perfect relationship with Velvet. She realized now that she loved them both too much. She wondered if Velvet would be able to cope with what life had forced upon her, for despite her short-lived marriage Skye knew that her daughter was still innocent at heart. Skye reached out and took Adam's hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

He managed a weak smile at her and squeezed back, but then his eyes fogged over as his thoughts returned to his only child. In his mind she was still a little girl. Oh, granted she had been twelve and a half when they had left on their voyage, and many a girl was not much older when wedded and bedded; but he and Skye had arranged that she not have to marry until she was sixteen. They had intended to give her a little time at court under their careful supervision. He sighed. They had protected her and sheltered her so carefully, perhaps too carefully, he was now beginning to think. How would she survive the ordeal of being incarcerated within a harem? What did Velvet know of love except perhaps the little Alex Gordon had taught her in their short time together? He let his glance rest on the son of his old friend.

Alexander Gordon, the Earl of BrocCairn, sat stiffly and grimly in his chair. For close to a year he had been without his wife. His wife! That cunning, willful jade had deserted him in his hour of need to run off to find her parents. She had had him convinced that she was content to return to Dun Broc with him and behave like a proper wife. Instead she had taken the first opportunity she'd found to desert him. His hand itched to make contact with her delightful bottom. When he got his hands on her, she was going to learn what it meant to be his wife , the Countess of BrocCairn.

The door to the apartment opened and Lord Burke and Daisy hurried into the room. Murrough leaped forward, his face a mask of fury as he hit his brother a clout that sent the younger man sprawling to the floor. Everyone else in the room gaped in surprise as Murrough reached down to haul his brother up and hit him once again.

"You're certain? I asked you! Do you remember, Padraic? I asked you if you were sure that Lord Gordon had been killed. You assured both Velvet and me that he had been. As I remember it you even became insulted that I should dare to question your veracity! Do you know what you've done, Padraic? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"You're back safe!" blubbered Padraic. "I made an error, Murrough. I'm sorry, but you're back safe, and 'tis all right now, isn't it?"

"Your sister is at this moment the prisoner of India's Grand Mughal!" roared Murrough. "She's locked away in his harem, and we've precious little chance of ever seeing her again! Would you call that all right?" He pushed his youngest brother from him disgustedly. "Jesu! You're just like your father, Niall. You're charming but totally heedless of your own selfish actions! You didn't even stay long enough to tell Alex what really happened, did you? You ran back to Clearfields and hid away. Why didn't you own up to your error and save him the anxiety? I could kill you with my own two hands!"

Padraic Burke, sprawled upon the floor, looked up apprehensively at his elder sibling. Murrough was totally right, and he knew it. Desperately he tried to explain his actions. "How could I tell Alex what a fool I had been running back to Velvet to announce his death, when if I had waited a few more minutes I would have learned he was merely badly wounded?"

"My death?" exclaimed Alex, who had gone white when Murrough had said Velvet was in a harem. "Ye told Velvet I was dead?"

Now the earl looked as if he wanted to hit Padraic as well, and the young man, seeing the dark look on his brother-in-law's face scrambled to his feet and moved closer to his mother.

"You sneaking little coward!" snarled Murrough, stepping threateningly toward Padraic again.

Skye leaped up and stood between her sons. "Am I to understand that Padraic told you and Velvet that Lord Gordon had been killed? Why would he do such a thing?" She looked at Alex. "What do you know of this, m'lord?"

" 'Twas a duel," he muttered.

"A duel that needn't have been fought!" snapped Murrough. "And my sister begged you not to, but would you listen? Nay!"

"Stop this bickering!" snapped Skye, who was becoming irritated and anxious to learn exactly what had happened. "You were injured in a duel, Alex, and Padraic, believing you dead, took it upon himself to inform Velvet. Is that correct?"

Padraic nodded.

Skye turned back to her elder son. "What I would like to know, Murrough, is why you took it upon yourself to remove your sister from London and take her on such a hazardous journey? You didn't even allow her time to bury her husband. Why?"

"Because she begged me," he said weakly.

"Because she begged you?" Skye was astounded. "Murrough! You're a grown man, the father of children yourself. Your eldest son is only a few years younger than Velvet! How could you do such a thing?"

"Mother," he said brokenly, "you don't understand. She was totally hysterical when she learned Alex had been killed. Hysterical and unreasonable. Robin and his wife weren't here to help me, nor were Willow and James. My little sister begged my aid, and I could see no other way of handling it than the manner in which I did. She believed that Alex would want to be buried at Dun Broc , and she could not bear to make her first trip to what was to have been her home in order to bury her husband. She kept sobbing that Alex's line had ended and that it was all her fault because she was not with child yet. There was simply no reasoning with her! I thought it better to take her with me than to leave her to God knows what mischief."

Alex's mouth compressed itself into a grim line. How typical of Velvet to run to her parents in a crisis. She hadn't grown up at all.

Skye slumped back onto the settle next to her husband. She didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, and she could tell from his face that neither did Adam. People could make the most ungodly disasters of their own lives and those around them by their headstrong actions. Murrough thought he had done the right thing for Velvet, but it was, in the end, the wrong thing. He should have checked Padraic's facts, for he knew his younger brother was often careless in his reports. Though Murrough had not waited, she knew, for fear of losing another day and missing the favorable winds across the Indian Ocean in his rescue mission of herself and Adam. How could she possibly upbraid him for what he had and hadn't done? If anything she blamed Alex Gordon, who would fight a duel that needn't have been fought, and Padraic, who had run off to his sister like Henny Penny to shout the sky down.

"All right, my sons, I believe I now understand this ridiculous muddle, and I blame all of you, including Velvet, whom I believed I had taught to face life better than that. Now we must consider what we have to do to regain her release and that of Pansy. At least the girls are together, for I know the people of the East and they would not separate Velvet from her tiring woman."

"What will happen to them, m'lady Skye?" quavered Daisy, and Skye, looking at her faithful servant and friend, was shocked. Never in her entire life had she seen Daisy lose heart, but then this time Daisy's fears were for her child, not for herself.

"Velvet, I imagine, has already been made a concubine of this Akbar," Skye told her. "As for Pansy she will not be harmed. She will simply continue to serve her mistress, Daisy. You need have no fears for her."

"My wife, some Turk's concubine? You speak about your daughter's fate quite matter-of-factly, madame," said Alex grimly.

"Akbar is the Grand Mughal of India, Alex, not a Turk," said Skye in an amused tone of voice. "If I speak matter-of-factly it is because I have been at one time in my life in the same position in which Velvet now finds herself. It is not always an envied position, Alex, but Velvet is my daughter, and she will survive! It could be far worse. We might not know where she was, or she might even be dead."

"Perhaps it would be better if she were dead than in another man's bed," said Alex bitterly.

Adam was at his son-in-law's throat in an instant. "You young whelp!" he snarled at the startled Scot, his knee on Alex's chest pinning him in his chair. "Your father was my friend, but you've turned into a smug, selfish bastard. You came out of your Highlands when our backs were turned and forced my child into your own bed. Don't think I don't know the whole story of your scandalous courtship of my daughter, for I do!

"Once long ago I watched my beloved Skye be bartered into marriage with a stranger. Then I saw her almost destroyed by another man in her attempt to rescue Padraic's father, her first love. At no time did I stop to consider that she had known other men. It was not important to me as long as she loved me, and it wouldn't be important to you either if you really loved my daughter, but I'm not certain that you do. I believe you consider her naught but a possession, some sort of brood mare. I'll not have it! If when we get her safely home you don't want her, and frankly I'm not sure you deserve her, then an annulment will be arranged!" He stood back and glowered fiercely at the young earl, and Alex shifted uncomfortably.

"Adam!" Skye chided her husband gently. "Alex is upset as well he might be. In his own way he has been as sheltered as Velvet." She gently separated the two, then took Alex's hand in hers. "I understand your distress, Alex, but whatever has befallen Velvet I know she still loves you. She is not a girl to give either her heart or her body wantonly, but I don't have to tell you that for you know it, don't you?"

"I can't bear the thought of any other man touching her, madame," he said, low.

"Yet you've known other women, Alex."

" 'Tis different, madame,"

Skye smiled wisely. "Any man can have her body, Alex. Only you can possess her heart."

He looked down at her and thought that she was probably one of the most beautiful women he had ever known. The beauty, however, was not simply limited to her face and form.

She had a great heart. He sighed. "We Scots are hard men, madame. I don't know if I can be as generous of spirit as Adam."

"Let us bring Velvet home first, Alex," she said, "and then we will see." He was very concerned with his own feelings, she thought. He did not stop to consider that Velvet, believing him dead, could easily fall in love again. She looked at Murrough once more. "You say that the Jesuits have some influence with Akbar?"

"Aye, there are two at his court, and he has allowed the order to have several priests in the country who work toward converting the huge population. Of course the two priests at court hope to convert the emperor himself. Father Ourique told me Akbar is amazingly intelligent, an enlightened ruler, and quite kindly in his character."

Skye pondered her son's words for several long minutes. The situation did not sound too discouraging. Praise from the Jesuits was not lightly given. They were a young order, having only been founded fifty-six years ago, but already they were wealthy and powerful. The motto of the order was Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam —To the Greater Glory of God—and their primary object was to spread the faith of the church. Working through the Jesuits, it just might be possible to regain Velvet's freedom. Skye turned to her tiring woman.

"Daisy, find Bran and tell him I want him to go to Ireland and fetch my brother, Michael."

"What can Michael do?" demanded Adam.

"As bishop of Mid-Connaught, Michael will go to the Jesuits in Paris where an old friend of his is high in the order. We need to gain their cooperation in the rescue of our child. After all, my darling, 'twas it not a Jesuit who demanded that outrageous ransom from us? A ransom that was paid. Was it not a Jesuit who placed our child in the care of that dreadful man, Marinha-Grande, who then sent her, a good and loyal daughter of the church, to an infidel lord for immoral purposes? Adam, my darling, if the Jesuits hadn't meddled, then our child would be safe today.

"The way I see it is that the Jesuits owe us for this terrible travesty. We shall, of course, show our further gratitude once Velvet is safely returned to us, but they must first use their influence to get Michael to the Grand Mughal; and once he is there, they must aid him in convincing Akbar to release Velvet into her uncle's care so that she may be returned to her family, and to her husband whom she believed dead."

"It is possible," pondered Adam. "It's just possible that such a thing might work."

"What if it doesn't?" asked Alex.

"To my knowledge," said Skye, "Akbar is a Muslim. No true believer would keep in his harem the wife of a living man. I am certain that once Akbar is told that Velvet's husband lives he will give her her freedom."

"I want to go with your brother," said Alex.

"No," said Skye quietly. "Velvet will have suffered more in the last year than she has ever done in her entire life. She will need the time during the voyage home to rebuild her physical and emotional strength, Alex. She will need to be alone. Your strong presence would only result in a heavy burden of guilt upon her. I will not allow you to do that to my daughter. Go home to Scotland. You have been gone from your lands for well over two years, and your people need to see you. We will send you word when Velvet's arrival is imminent. It will be well over a year from now, Alex.

"The voyage itself is of several months' duration each way. Once Michael is in India, he must travel hundreds of miles inland to Lahore and the Mughal's court, present his plea, and travel back to his ship. Yes, it will take well over a full year if not more. Go home to your Scotland. It is better that way. Here there is nothing for you to do."

What Skye did not say to her son-in-law was that she was more than aware that he had taken a mistress, pretty Alanna Wythe, the daughter of the silversmith whose house the wounded Earl of BrocCairn had been carried to after his duel and who had nursed him in Velvet's stead. Skye believed it would be best to separate Alex from his chère aime before her daughter returned home. Oh, Alex might amuse himself with the girls on his estate, something he had no doubt done in the past, but Alanna Wythe could become a much more serious threat to her daughter's happiness should Alex become attached to her. Sending him back to Scotland would end the relationship, and Mistress Alanna would look for another protector.

"I'll go," said Alex finally. "My men are anxious to be home again and have waited almost a year for me to make this decision. You are right. There is nothing for me to do here in London. There is one thing your Daisy should know, however. My man, Dugald, pledged himself in handfast to her daughter Pansy a month before she disappeared with Velvet. He'll be happy when we learn the lass is safe and coming home. He really loves that saucy little wench."

Skye smiled. "I'll tell her and Bran. I think, too, that Dugald should speak with them, to ask their blessing out of courtesy. Bran Kelly loves all his children, but Pansy as the eldest girl was always a particular favorite with him."

Alex nodded. "I'll see to it, belle-mère."

"Go along with you now, all of you. Murrough, make your peace with Padraic. I'll have no more of your brawling. What's done is done."

"There'll be no more fighting, Mother, but I'll not make any peace with Padraic until Velvet is safely home," growled Murrough, glaring at his youngest brother.

" 'Twas not me who rushed Velvet out of the country," muttered Padraic, flushing hotly.

" 'Twas not me who gave her a fit of hysterics by insisting that her husband had been killed," countered Murrough, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Enough!" roared Adam de Marisco at his two stepsons. "Your squabbling isn't going to bring my daughter back. Get out, the pair of you!"

The two brothers bowed politely to their stepfather and then, still throwing black looks at each other, quickly left the room.

Skye opened her arms to her husband, and for a long moment they stood clinging to each other. If they had made one mistake with Velvet it was that they had loved her too well, and had overprotected her. Finally Skye said quietly, "She'll survive, my love. Is she not made up of a little bit of us both? Are we not survivors ourselves, my darling Adam? Velvet will come home to us! I know it!"

"Do you know what she's going through?" He groaned. "My God, Skye! She's so innocent!"

"She's a married woman, Adam," Skye reminded her husband. "She's no longer totally innocent."

"My little girl," he murmured, "my poor little girl."

"Adam!" Skye's voice pierced through his distress.

He looked down at her, and there were tears in his smoky blue eyes.

"Oh, Adam," Skye said softly, "she's my little girl, too, and as precious to me as any of my children, perhaps even a little more so because her birth was such a miracle for us. She will come back to us! I am certain of it!"

A knock upon the door brought Bran Kelly, Skye's senior captain, into the room. "Daisy's told me," he said, looking every bit as haggard as Adam did. "It'll be quicker if I ride for Devon and ship from there, m'lady."

Skye nodded. "Agreed!"

"I'll be on my way then, m'lady," said the captain, and, bowing to them both, he was gone.

Bran Kelly rode without rest from London to Bideford where he took command of one of the ships of the O'Malley-Small fleet to sail across the Irish Sea, around Cape Clear, and up the western flank of Ireland to Innisfana Island where he knew he would find word of Michael O'Malley, who was now bishop of Mid-Connaught as his late uncle Seamus had been before him.

As luck would have it, the bishop was visiting his stepmother at his ancestral home. Learning of his niece's fate and that of Bran Kelly's daughter, Michael O'Malley packed at once, and two weeks after he had left London, Bran Kelly returned with Skye O'Malley's younger brother.

The bishop of Mid-Connaught, once a tall, thin youth with pink cheeks and an earnest air about him, had grown into a bluff, hearty man with twinkling blue eyes, his dark hair very closely cropped as befitted a churchman, and a worldly air of assurance about him. His cheeks, however, were still pink from his heritage. His sister Skye had, fifteen years earlier, passed on her title "the O'Malley" to him despite his clerical standing. It always amused Michael that he had ended up with the responsibility that had actually been rightfully his all along. His father had died when he was just a small boy and, knowing Michael's desire to be a priest, had passed him over in favor of his sister, Skye. Skye, however, had given him back his inheritance after bearing the family responsibilities upon her own shoulders for many, many years. Michael, in turn, had chosen a nephew who would eventually supplant him, but which nephew he would not tell for fear that the boy would become big-headed by knowing his future position. Privately he had discussed his choice with Skye, and she had agreed that their half brother Brian's second son, Ahern, was the perfect choice. Michael O'Malley would pass on his authority when he thought his nephew ready, but for now he retained it and allowed the boy the opportunity to grow and to savor life.

"Don't you ever change?" he now demanded of his sister, giving her a bear hug that suddenly reminded her of their father.

Gazing at him, she realized that his increased girth made him look very much like their father as well, although she had never noticed it until now. "You suddenly resemble Da," she said.

"Aye, so Mother Anne tells me. Our stepmother sends you her greetings." He paused. "I hear I'm to go to Paris."

"And afterwards to India, brother," she said quietly.

"For a man who's never been out of Ireland but for a bit of study in Rome and Paris 'tis a big leap, sister Skye." He plumped himself down into a comfortable chair by the fire and took a goblet of wine from the servant who preferred it.

"You're our only hope, Michael. If the Mughal's capital were on the sea, or even near it, I should not need your help; but 'tis hundreds of miles inland. The Jesuits are in great favor with Akbar. They must understand that 'twas one of their order who involved my child in this disaster, and now they must aid us in retrieving her."

"You'll be expected to pay, Skye. You know that?"

Skye raised an eloquent eyebrow. "I always pay for what I seriously desire, Michael, but I'll pay not a penny piece into the Jesuit coffers until I know that my child is safe! Make sure your friends in Paris understand that, Michael."

"What of my niece's husband? Is he anxious to have his wife back from what is certain to be a very carnal captivity?"

"Yes," said Skye tersely, in a tone that decided Michael O'Malley to press his sister no further on that point.

"I am not quite certain," he said, "that I fully understand how Velvet got herself in this position. What was she doing in India with Murrough, and where was her bridegroom?"

"The situation in which Velvet finds herself was brought about by a mixture of stubbornness, pride, gossip, misinformation, and the usual sort of general mayhem that in another case could have caused a war!"

A deep rumble of laughter rocked the bishop. "In other words, sister, the human condition. Say on!"

Skye launched into the tale of Velvet's troubles. Michael listened with rapt attention, not interrupting until she came to the Portuguese governor's act of sending Velvet to the Grand Mughal as a gift.

"What possessed the governor to do such a terrible thing?" wondered Michael aloud.

"When Adam and I were imprisoned in Bombay by the Portuguese, they separated us for a time. The governor placed me in his house, where he made indecent overtures toward me that I most firmly rebuffed. I was then put back with Adam in the local prison, a disgusting place, but far preferable!"

"Your rebuff of that proud don must have been a fierce one that he would take such a revenge as to send your child, a Catholic noblewoman, into such a degrading situation."

"My rebuff of him was no more than he deserved!" snapped Skye.

"I've not a doubt," replied her brother, his bright blue eyes atwinkle. "Well," he said, sighing, "now I see the matter clearly, sister Skye, but 'twill take a great deal of clever negotiation on our part to get the Jesuits to aid us. To begin with they will deny any responsibility."

"Michael, I don't care how you do it! You're the youngest bishop Ireland's ever had, and I've always contended that you're wasted there when your talents could be put to better use in Rome. You've a friend, I remember, who is high up within the Jesuit ranks, and I know that he's in Paris."

"Bearach O'Dowd." Michael smiled with the memory. "His aunt was married to a distant O'Malley cousin who lived on Innisfana, and he used to come to visit in the summers with his sister, Caitlin. We used to take her fishing with us and then make her clean our catch. Bearach and I studied for the priesthood together in Rome. Aye, he's a Jesuit, and he is in Paris. Bearach always had a taste for the finer things."

"Will he help us?" Skye asked.

"Aye. He's an honest man, though clever. He'll be shocked by Father Ourique's behavior, but I'll wager he'll end up with at least part of your Portuguese ransom for the Paris order, probably from the Portuguese governor's portion, as well as whatever we pay him!"

"Do not delay, Michael. Every day that passes Velvet is further lost to us. She believes Alex is dead, and the Grand Mughal, I am told, is a kind man. If she falls in love with him, she will suffer not only from losing him, but from her guilt at returning to Alex with knowledge of another man."

"Perhaps you worry needlessly, my sister," the bishop counseled. "Do not Eastern potentates have vast harems? In all likelihood Velvet has lost herself in the crowd."

"As a European woman Velvet would be a rarity to the emperor of India, Michael. I will wager he has never seen one before. To ignore her would be to insult the Portuguese governor's gift, and he would not do that. No, my child has already been in his bed. I can only hope she does not love him so there will be no pain in leaving him. Any guilt she may feel I will assuage and help her to overcome, but first you must get her back for us, Michael!"

Michael O'Malley heard the agony in his sister's voice. He had to accept her words as accurate, for if anyone knew the East it was Skye by virtue of the two periods in her life when she had lived in Algeria and Morocco. "I'll get her back," he said quietly. "Never fear, sister. I will bring our Velvet safely home. Poor child! How she must be pining for her homeland!"

But Velvet had not given a thought to England for several weeks now. Pansy had recovered quickly from the ordeal of her childbirth, and they had left Fatehpur-Sikri with Akbar and all his household to return to the capital of Lahore.

Velvet felt a small pang as she passed by the great chessboard with its red sandstone squares for the last time. The huge court of the Panch Mahal gleamed brightly in the morning sun as they passed beneath the lovely entrance gate. From the vantage point of her gaily decorated howdah atop a plodding female elephant, Velvet turned to catch a final glimpse of the former capital of the Mughals in all its abandoned splendor. Then with the resilience of youth she looked only ahead.

They traveled in a crescent-shaped formation, Akbar followed by his cavalry and then his elephant corps. Mounted archers and pikemen guarded the enormous convoy. Before Akbar went drummers and trumpeters upon elephants; only one sounded his drum at specific intervals. In the middle of the caravan rode those wives and favorites of Akbar who had accompanied him from Lahore. The consorts were all mounted upon elephants, their serving women riding behind upon camels. The women were guarded by armed eunuchs who drove all away from the line of march. Behind them came the treasury and the baggage train, which included the tents and furnishings, all packed into mule-drawn carts and accompanied by soldiers, water-carriers, carpenters, tent-makers, torch bearers, leather workers, and sweepers.

Velvet quickly realized that she should have no fear of attack, for no one would dare to accost Akbar. It was simply to be a tedious journey, but at its end he had promised her gardens and fountains. The monsoons were over, and the cold season was coming. In Lahore, he said, her life would be perfection, and so she dreamed the hot days away snug in her howdah. When the evenings came, however, she was escorted from the women's tents to the large two-story pavilion where Akbar slept to partake in exquisite nights of passion with this powerful man who had become her husband.

She was no longer segregated from the other women, though only Jodh Bai and Rugaiya Begum approached her. They had begun to teach her Persian and a little Hindi so that she might communicate with those about her. With Adali acting as her translator, Velvet struggled to learn, though not with too great a success. She managed enough vocabulary so that she could gossip with the two women, but often Adali was called upon to explain words Velvet could not comprehend.

"I feel so stupid," she complained to her two friends one evening, "but the sounds are so different from the tongues of Europe."

"We think you clever," answered Jodh Bai. "We cannot learn any of your language. It confounds our brains!"

Velvet chuckled. "I think you are just being kind, Jodh Bai."

Jodh Bai smiled back at Velvet. "It is not difficult to be kind to you, Candra. Your nature is most sweet."

Candra. It was strange, Velvet thought, to have been given a new name at this time in her life, but indeed she had been. Before they had departed Fatehpur-Sikri, Akbar had spoken to her of it. "The women in my household do not know what to call you, my Rose. You must have a name that they can understand. I have therefore taken it upon myself to rename you Candra. You will answer to it from this time forth."

"I will do what pleases you, my lord," she replied sweetly, "but does the name have a meaning?"

"It means moon, or moonlike, in the ancient Sanskrit language. Your skin is so white that it can be compared to the moon, and therefore I consider it very fitting that you be called Candra."

So she became Candra Begum, the Rose Princess, among those who lived at the court of the Grand Mughal. The women of the zenana treated her with respect for the most part, but kept their distance. With Jodh Bai and Rugaiya Begum for friends she felt no lack of companionship, but she often saw some of the other wives eyeing her with jealousy.

Zada Begum, Akbar's second wife, was a gray-brown mouse of a woman with no children to keep her company. She was close friends with the third wife, Salima Begum, mother of the Mughal's eldest daughter, Shahzad Khanim. Both women were haughty and held the rest of the zenana's inhabitants in contempt. They were much avoided by the others.

Jealousy, however, held in its grip four of the more important consorts: Almira, mother of Prince Murad; Leila, the Princess of Khandesh whose daughter was Shukuran Nisa; Roopmati, the Princess of Bikaner, mother of Prince Daniyal; and Kamlavati, the Princess of Jaisalmer, who had miscarried twice. Akbar no longer visited Kamlavati's bed, which embittered her greatly, especially considering that a mere concubine named Waqi had borne the last of Akbar's children, the little Princess Aram-Banu. Each of these ladies eyed Velvet constantly with black, unfriendly glances and gossiped meanly amongst themselves.

"She has eyes the color of a cat's," said Kamlavati.

"And her hair," murmured Almira. "It is the shade of the plowed earth. I certainly never saw hair that color! It's disgusting."

" 'Tis her white skin I find so ugly," piped up Roopmati. "It looks like a fish belly."

"She is enormous in size," said Leila. "Why, she can look our dear lord directly in the eye. That is most unfeminine. I cannot understand what it is about her that he finds so attractive."

"Perhaps it is her sweet nature." Rugaiya Begum, who had overheard the others, chuckled. "None of you can lay claim to that particular nicety of character. Candra is as sweet as honey, and Akbar, a wise old bee, has grown tired of your sour fruits."

As Rugaiya Begum was Akbar's senior wife they did not dare to turn their backs on her or to refute her words. The older woman offered them an arch smile and then strode away.

It took a month for them to reach Lahore, and as Velvet viewed the surrounding landscape she was not encouraged. The region was positively parched and grim. Her heart sank. How could there possibly be gardens and fountains in this barren brown place? She sighed and for a moment was melancholy for her beautiful green homeland.

Pansy, however, had recovered her former robust health and seemed to thrive as she cared for her son, who grew larger daily on his mother's rich milk. Velvet had seen several handsome soldiers eyeing her tiring woman with a look akin to lust. Pansy had seen them, too, but she just shrugged and said dryly, "Eventually I'll take another husband. There's many a likely lad amongst them, I can see, and virginity ain't so much to a man as a woman who can have sons. But now is not the time. Besides, as your tiring woman I don't have to let myself go cheap."

Finally Lahore loomed before them, surrounded by a great fortifying wall and accessible only through its thirteen gates. It was set upon the banks of the Ravi River, which had its birth high in the purple Himalaya Mountains. They could see the mountains to the distant north. As they came closer to the city, the landscape grew greener the nearer to the river they got, and, looking closely, Velvet saw that the land was irrigated by narrow canals that drew water from the river inland a short distance. From their howdahs they could see in these fields the peasants with their bullocks plowing the tall rows of grain to remove the weeds and keep the topsoil turned.

The Mughal's great caravan was now strung out along the main road into Lahore. The single drummer thrummed his monotonous cadence as they moved steadily toward the city. Forced to the side of the road by Akbar's passage were great commercial caravans of heavily ladened camels, smaller caravans that were donkey-borne, peasants, merchants, and nobles astride fine mounts, their women in carefully curtained palanquins. Past them all rode the Grand Mughal and his household, moving majestically through Lahore's main gate and into the city, where the caravan wended its way through narrow streets, past great mosques and minarets, past the Mughal fort, to the northwest corner of the city where the palace was located.

Here the section of the caravan carrying the women and their servants was brought directly through the main courtyard of the palace and into the women's portion of the building. The camels knelt so that the occupants of the palanquins could disembark. The elephants, however, were brought one by one to a high mounting block where each howdah's occupant was assisted out. As Akbar's newest wife, Velvet was the last to leave her elephant.

"I should be glad," she said, laughing to Jodh Bai and Rugaiya Begum as she joined them, "that our lord did not bring all his wives else I would have been here the entire night!"

"Youth and beauty are not always first and foremost." Rugaiya Begum chuckled. "It is a good lesson for you to learn, Candra."

"Are you as eager for a bath as I am?" asked Jodh Bai. "Those birdbaths we were permitted along the way were only frustrating. I wonder if I shall ever get the dust out of my hair and off my skin. I am certain it has bored right into my face!"

"Must I be the last to the baths as well?" asked Velvet with a mournful face.

"Not if we hurry while the others are busy greeting their friends and relations," said Rugaiya Begum with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "Each wants to be the first to spread the news of Akbar's bride and new favorite. Look! Already you are being cast envious looks." She took the others' hands and hurried them into the palace. "Come! We will be steaming and soaking before they can decide which one of them is clever enough to take Akbar from you."

"Oh, Rugaiya! I should die if my lord deserted me now," wailed Velvet nervously. This was something she had not thought of, and suddenly she realized it could happen. She cast a backward glance at the clustering women behind her. "I have not half the beauty those women have," she said, worried.

"Little silly!" said the practical Rugaiya Begum. "He loves you! Do you not believe it? I do, and I have been with him longer than any of the others. There will be times he will turn to the others to assuage his manly lusts and desire for variety, but that is only natural in a man. Not yet though. You occupy his thoughts constantly, Candra. Remember you were the only woman he called to him each night along our line of march, except for the nights you were unclean."

"There are few he really cares for although he is kind to them all," put in Jodh Bai, understanding Velvet's need to be reassured. European women, Velvet had told them, did not share their men. The Christians permitted their men only one wife, something Jodh Bai personally thought appalling. How could one woman be all things to a man? It was barbaric and impossible, not to mention very unfair to the poor wife who must be at her lord's beck and call at all times. Once sweet Candra saw the advantages in being one of many wives she would appreciate it greatly. Jodh Bai smiled to herself, her smile broadening as they reached the baths. "Ah, at last," she said as a cloud of perfumed steam hit her.

The three women were divested of their dusty clothing by clucking, fussing bath attendants and were halfway through their ablutions by the time the other travelers arrived. The latecomers eyed the three sourly.

"Hah!" teased Rugaiya Begum. "How did you manage to pull yourselves away from the other gossips?"

"Someone had to explain who the ugly foreigner was," replied Almira. "After all, a woman with skin like sour milk and hair the color of cattle dung is unusual."

Velvet flushed, understanding enough of Almira's words to comprehend the insult, but before either of her two friends could defend her, she said slowly in Persian, "In my country … we know how to … make … strangers welcome … even if they do not look … like us. You are very … rude, Almira." Then she turned her back upon the woman and continued her bathing.

Almira gaped in surprise at this rebuke, her face growing mottled as the women with her tittered behind their hands, and both Jodh Bai and Rugaiya Begum grinned openly, pleased with the success of their new friend and protégée. Then they, too, returned to their washing.

"Well done, Candra," whispered Jodh Bai. "She is over-proud despite the fact that Akbar grew tired of her long ago!"

"Aye, his passion cooled quickly with her." Rugaiya Begum chuckled. "She was fortunate that she was with child and bore Akbar his second son, else he would have never looked at her again."

"His passion could cool just as quickly with me," Velvet remarked.

"His passion for Almira cooled because she was greedy and carping, Candra. You are not at all like her. Akbar will never grow tired of you," said Rugaiya Begum.

Clean and refreshed, the three women left the baths and returned to the zenana where both Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai had spacious apartments, but before they could reach them Adali hurried up and bowed.

"My princess," he said to Velvet, "You are to come with me. Our gracious lord had caused your own palace to be prepared as he promised you. If you will but follow me."

"Come with me!" Velvet begged her friends, and they nodded their agreement, looking meaningfully at each other, frankly very curious to see the home Akbar had ordered readied for Candra.

"Your own palace," said Rugaiya Begum. "You are most honored. In Fatehpur-Sikri we had our own palaces, but no one has had their own home here in Lahore. Large apartments in the zenana have been the best we could hope for here."

"You will be very envied," murmured Jodh Bai.

"I don't care as long as you two remain my friends," said Velvet. "The others are nothing to me."

"Even in paradise one must have friends," counseled Rugaiya Begum wisely.

"Perhaps this is not paradise," teased Velvet, and the two other women laughed.

"Candra, you are really unpredictable," said Jodh Bai. "One moment you are all sweetness, the next you are spice!"

"The better to keep my lord fascinated, dear friend," came Velvet's saucy reply, and once more the two older women were forced to laugh at their young companion.

The three women followed the eunuch through the women's quarters, down a narrow flight of stairs to a short corridor, and out into the vast palace gardens. Hurrying behind Adali, they moved deep into the gardens along paths of chipped white marble lined with tall, graceful orchid trees. The warm air was filled with the richly fragrant scent of the light purple flowers, which had deeper purple centers streaked with cream and carmine. In the flower beds bordering the orchid trees were tall stands of white and rosy-red Crown Imperials, their large pendant flowers arranged in rings at the top of each plant's stem and topped by tufts of green leaves. The path led past a beautiful turquoise blue tiled fountain that had pale green marble basins set in tiers, with crystal water dripping from the top basin down into the second and finally into the pool itself where bright orange goldfish swam, darting between the shafts of sunlight that dappled the waters of the pool.

Following Adali a little farther, they came upon a small palace of creamy marble, a perfect little dome centered on the roof, set like a perfect jewel amid the greenery of the garden.

"What a beautiful building!" exclaimed Jodh Bai. "I did not know such a building existed here in the palace grounds."

"It was originally built for a favorite of Babur," replied Rugaiya Begum. "Akbar and I played here as children. It has not been used for many, many years."

"I was not aware Akbar lived here as a child," replied Jodh Bai.

"He didn't, but I did," said Rugaiya. "He came once to visit me as we were betrothed. We spent most of our time here. I thought he had forgotten it even existed."

"Come along, ladies! Come along!" fussed Adali, turning back to hurry them with gestures.

Velvet said nothing, but followed behind her two friends. She was touched that Akbar had kept his promise to her. She had really dreaded living in the zenana with all the other women. She would never get used to the lack of privacy, but her own little home would certainly help. Both Rugaiya and Jodh Bai had said that living in a spacious apartment as they did she wouldn't even know that the other wives existed, but nonetheless she had been very uncomfortable with the idea. How caring of Akbar to have sensed her feelings. He really was the most marvelous of men.

They entered the little palace through an arched doorway that led into a two-storied reception room that ran the length of the building. Above them rose the dome, light coming in through thin sheets of latticed jasper set in at its bottom. A golden chandelier hung down into the area to light it in the evening. About the long room were decorative tubs of cardamom with their long leaves and sprays of yellow-green flowers that had blue and white lips. There were also tubs of sweet-scented ginger lillies, the long-tubed flowers of cream, white, and yellow perfuming the air.

Velvet was enchanted, but Rugaiya and Jodh Bai clapped their hands and exclaimed with delight.

"How exquisite!" Akbar's eldest wife said. "Trust Akbar with his artist's eye to fashion a perfect setting for a perfect jewel."

"Oh, look!" Jodh Bai pointed with a graceful finger to the long reflecting pool that ran along the entry hall to the far arches that led into the gardens at the rear of the palace. At the corners of each side of the pool were silver cages filled with colorful birds that shrieked and called now that they had been noticed.

"I will be happy here," said Velvet softly. "It is so green and cool."

"Come, come!" called Adali. "Come and see the rest of this wonderful house, my princess!" Bustling with importance, he led them about the main floor of the small palace, which had two wings: the right one housing the kitchens and the baths; the left one a dining room and a salon that looked out into the rear gardens with their beds of flowers and several fountains and pools. Returning to the entry hall, they climbed one of the graceful little marble staircases that led to the upper floor. An open corridor with delicately carved wooden railings that overlooked the main hall ran the length of each wing and connected the two wings to each other. On the left side of the building was a large bedchamber for Velvet, and a smaller room for Pansy lay next to it. On the right side of the palace was a big room with only one piece of furniture in it at the present time. It was a bejeweled cradle, and it had been placed in the exact center of the floor.

Rugaiya Begum chuckled richly as Velvet's cheeks turned a deep rose. "There is no mistaking our lord's wishes for the use of this room. May God grant you are able to fulfill Akbar's desire in this matter."

"I would like a child," Velvet said. "I never had one with my first husband. I should like a strong son."

"There will be no more sons for Akbar," said Jodh Bai quietly, and Velvet looked at her, surprised.

"My son would not be a threat to yours, Jodh Bai. Your son is already grown, and has children of his own."

"There will be no more sons for Akbar, Candra, because it has been foretold that he would have only three living sons, and so it has been all these years. The first two, twin boys, lived less than a year. Then came my Salim, Murad two years later, and finally Daniyal two years after that. There have been no further sons for Akbar in almost twenty years, Candra. If you are fortunate to bear Akbar a child, it will be a daughter, but I myself should have far rather had a daughter. Sons only grow up to break a mother's heart."

Rugaiya Begum put a comforting arm about her friend. "Salim is a good boy, Jodh Bai. Truly he is. He only chafes against his father's will because he is an intelligent man who desires to show his own mettle."

"He places me between his father and himself," Jodh Bai said sadly. "There are still those who say his father was wrong to marry a Rajput."

"They are fools!" snapped Rugaiya Begum. "I am a Moslem, and you a Hindu. Candra is a Christian. These are doctrines created by men, which, although good in intent, have divided God's peoples all over the earth, and there is nothing good or holy about that. I have learned from our lord husband, and he is right. He could not have united this vast land had he not put old prejudices aside."

"You flatter me, my dear wife," Akbar said, sweeping into the room. He stopped to kiss both Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai on their cheeks, and then his eyes found Velvet. "You are pleased, Candra?"

"You are so kind, my lord," she said softly.

"I want you to be happy, my English Rose." His look told her that he also wanted to be alone with her.

"I cannot help but be happy as long as I am in your favor, my lord," she replied, her cheeks once more pink for his glance was burning.

Rugaiya Begum almost laughed aloud. Akbar's desire was so wonderfully obvious. For the first time in his life she saw vulnerability in the man, and it pleased her. He was a great ruler, she knew, but like all great men he needed to be a bit more human. "We must go," she announced. "I am exhausted from our travels and Adali brought us directly here from the baths."

"Yes," agreed Jodh Bai, envying her young friend just the tiniest bit.

"You will come tomorrow, won't you?" Velvet asked. "I would like to share my good fortune with you both."

"We will come tomorrow," replied Jodh Bai, "and I shall bring you a wonderful cook for your kitchens as a gift."

"I hadn't thought of that!" Velvet cried. "Oh, my lord, how shall I feed you tonight?"

"Can he not live on love alone?" teased Rugaiya Begum, and they were all brought to laughter by her wryness.

"No!" said Akbar, settling the matter. "He must have his supper, and at the appropriate moment it will arrive from the main palace by Candra's own servants. For now, however, I would like to see the house and the gardens. I sent orders ahead as to what should be done, but this is the first chance I have had to come and see myself. Since I am here we should begin with this room."

"But the room is empty and devoid of decoration, my lord," said Velvet. She gracefully waved her hands about the space, noting as she did so that her two friends had withdrawn and that she was now alone with Akbar.

"There is a cradle."

"It has no occupant."

"We will remedy that lack, my Rose."

"Come and see the rest of the house," she said, and quickly drew him from the nursery. "I have not seen the rooms next door."

"They are for the servants," he answered, leading her down the hallway and across the connecting corridor to the opposite side of the building. "I have looked into the salon. It is simply furnished, and you must do whatever you desire with it for this is your home. You may want to obtain furniture from England, which can be done through the Portuguese. You have only to make a list for Adali." They had reached the gallery, and Akbar turned to the right. "If I remember, the main chamber is here," he said, opening the carved door to the room. Then, turning back, he picked her up in his strong arms, saying as he did so, "The holy fathers tell me it is a Christian custom to carry a bride over the threshold of her new home." He carried her into the room.

For a third time that afternoon Velvet felt a blush suffuse her face and throat. To cover her sudden shyness she exclaimed, "What a lovely room! I only glanced at it before when Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai were with me. Please put me down, my lord, so I may explore farther."

An amused little smile touched the corners of his sensual mouth, but he complied with her request. "If the room pleases you, Candra, then I shall be content. I gave very careful instructions as to its decoration. It must be a beautiful garden to house my perfect English Rose." He then stood silently as she carefully studied the chamber.

The floors of the room were of highly polished teakwood and glowed with a soft warmth. There were dark open beams in the wooden ceiling carved with flowers that had been painted in reds, blues, and golds. The walls were divided by a narrow wooden molding that ran horizontally approximately a third of the way up from the floor. The molding was covered in gold leaf, and the portion of wall below it was painted a dark blue. Above the molding the walls were decorated in an incredible painting depicting a jungle where a magnificent tiger lurked and brightly colored parrots shrieked from the trees. The jungle gradually gave way to a fertile plain populated by animals done in the most exquisite detail, including a small herd of elephants with babies, young bulls and cows, several older females, and a grizzled patriarch with magnificent tusks. There were, Velvet observed, a trio of mischievous squirrels in a plane tree; a wonderful mother leopard teaching her two cubs how to hunt; a tribe of rather amusing monkeys; sheep; goats; gazelles; and a fantastic peacock and its hen. Velvet was dazzled by the marvelous painting that spread from one wall to the next until it reached a panel showing two lovers on an open terrace. She recognized Akbar at once and then, looking closely, saw that the beautiful woman portrayed had white skin in contrast to the man's wheaten hue and that her long hair was auburn.

"I think that Basawan did very well considering that all he had to work with was my rather lyrical description of you," Akbar observed.

Velvet was speechless for the moment. It was a beautiful painting that depicted behind the lovers a clear blue lake. On the other side of the lake the snowcapped purple mountains rose into an early morning sky of molten gold and peach. A green rug, its gold and orange designs quite distinctive to the eye, had been spread on the terrace, and there on colorful pillows the lovers knelt, gazing into each other's faces. Akbar was dressed in white pantaloons, his chest bare, a small turban upon his dark hair, a rope of milky pearls about his neck reaching to his navel. Velvet, portrayed as his consort, was garbed in sheer turquoise silk gauze pantaloons through which her slender legs were quite visible. She was decked in strands of long pink pearls and gold chains, but her torso from the decorative waistband of her pantaloons upward was quite bare.

"I told the artist that you had delightfully saucy little breasts," said Akbar. "I am not satisfied with the way they are drawn. He will have to redo them, but this time he can paint from life."

"My lord!" She was mortified. "Would you have me exposed before another man?"

"He is an artist, Candra. Besides, here in my land we do not hide the body, nor cry false modesty. If it will make you easier in your mind, however, I will be with you when Basawan redoes the painting."

Velvet fell silent again and studied the painting once more. It was really quite charming. The lovers were not alone upon their terrace. Indeed there were two maidservants, one to fan the royal pair, the other engaged in preparing refreshments, and a pretty musician who strummed upon what looked to Velvet like a lute but for its long neck. The last occupant on the terrace was a large, fat cat with long black fur and a somewhat pleased expression on its face as it eyed a small bird perched upon a tubbed tree. It was her own kitten, Banner, grown up. She turned and saw that even now he was already curled up sleeping upon a corner of the bed.

Velvet then focused attention on the furnishings in the room. The large rug upon the floor, she noted, was identical to the one in the painting. There was a low, rectangular table of polished teak against one wall of the chamber. About it were strewn plump, silken pillows in shades of blue, green, and purple with gold stripes. Along another wall were two carved and decorated chests, which would be used for Velvet's clothing, and against the wall opposite was a cream-colored marble platform veined in gold upon which rested a magnificent bed with a canopied wooden top that was domed. The exterior of the dome had been laid over in gold leaf; the interior, as Velvet was soon to find out, had been painted a deep blue with shining gold stars, some of which twinkled with diamonds that had been imbedded in them. The four posts holding up the canopy were gilded and carved with vines and flowers that had been painted most realistically. The bed was hung with blue, green, and golden gauze draperies, and upon the wall at its head a large shamsa had been painted; in the center of this sunburst design was a rosette of abstract and arabesque designs in gold, red, and blue. In the very middle of the rosette was a circle, the outer ring of which was gold, followed by rings of first blue and then red, inscribed with several verses in Arabic script.

Akbar translated for Velvet knowing the words by heart since he had ordered them specially. "The first verse is from the Kama Sutra. It reads: Once the Wheel of Love has been set in motion, there is no absolute rule. The second verse says: Your being contains mine; now I am truly part of you. Together as one, we form an unbroken circle of love. The last verse is from the Mahabharata and says: The wife is half the man, his priceless friend; Of pleasure, virtue, wealth, his constant source; A help throughout his earthly years; Through life unchanging, even beyond its end. These words, Candra, speak of my love for you. My joy at having found you. Alas, I am not a poet and must rely upon the words of others to tell you what's in my heart."

For a long moment Velvet could not speak. Her throat was tight, and quick tears filled her eyes. Then she turned to look into his dark ones. "I do not understand," she began softly, "why I should be so fortunate as to have your love, my lord Akbar, but my own heart is filled to overflowing. I told you once I should not tell you that I loved you unless it were so, but now I believe that I do love you. I cannot imagine my life without you, and I long for a child of your loins and my body. We come from totally different worlds, different cultures, and yet if I can truly make you happy, then I shall be content." She reached up and touched his face gently, her fingers softly trailing down his cheek and across his sensual lips.

Passion blazed in his eyes, and, catching her hand, he kissed her palm ardently. "I adore you," he murmured. "Of women I have always had my fill, and I have made love to many. Some I have even cared for in my way, and they have become my friends. But you, my beautiful Rose, I love with my whole heart. Never before has there been one like you, and there shall never be another to fully engage my heart!"

Velvet's heart hammered wildly at the extravagance of his tribute. She was totally overwhelmed by this love of his, which enveloped and surrounded her. Her emerald eyes caught his dark ones, and she could actually feel the love flowing between them. Her lips trembled with the fierce emotions that buffeted her, and she swayed. Akbar's strong arm immediately shot out and wrapped itself about her slender waist. Slowly he drew her toward him and then their mouths met in a tender kiss. His warm lips gently caressed her quivering ones, pressing delicate little kisses across her entire mouth.

Then he stepped back from her, still holding her in his embrace, and said, "You are tired from your long journey, my love, and I am not insensitive to that. Rest now, and I will come to you tonight. I want to make love to you, Candra. I should like to do it this very minute, but in your exhaustion your own pleasure, and therefore mine, would not be complete. Our coming together will be better for the anticipation."

With a smile he released his hold on her and together they walked to the door of the chamber. Reaching it, Akbar kissed her again lightly. "Pansy and the others should have arrived by now. I will send them to you." Then he opened the door and was gone.

Moving back to the bed, Velvet flung herself down upon it, not even noticing the coverlet that had been embroidered in jewellike hues of blue, green, and gold in a peacock's tail pattern. She gazed again at the wall behind the bed. There were so many things she had not seen before; magnificent golden phoenixes and other birds soaring around the central figure of the sunburst. Her eyes went again to the Arabic lettering in the very center. The verses he had quoted her were so beautiful, so wildly romantic.

She thought about the first verse he had spoken to her. Once the Wheel of Love has been set in motion, there is no absolute rule. There was certainly truth in that statement. Had she not expected after her marriage to Alex that they would remain together for the rest of their lives? She had certainly never thought that her husband would be killed in a foolish and prideful duel, leaving her bereft. How strange life was. How many women lost one love to so easily find another?

The chamber door opened and Pansy rushed in, chattering. "What a wonderful home, my lady! The lord Akbar certainly thinks highly of you. None of the other ladies have their own house. When we was in the baths just a little while ago, Toramalli and Rohana said that the other serving women were gossiping something fierce about it. Some of their mistresses are jealous of you, and others afraid of the power they think you wield over Akbar."

"I have no power over my lord," Velvet replied.

"He's a man in love and that always gives a woman power," said Pansy wisely. Then she looked about the room. "Lord! If this ain't the prettiest place I've ever seen, I don't know what is! The walls are simply beautiful with all those paintings, and I just love the blues and greens and golds. 'Tis so rich. I'll wager the queen herself doesn't have such a beautiful room in all of her palaces!"

"I wouldn't know, Pansy, having never visited all of the queen's castles. This house, however, suits me admirably. My lord has said I may buy whatever I desire for it." Velvet smiled at her tiring woman. "You're refreshed now? How is the baby doing?"

"Happy as a little pink pig in the clover, he is, m'lady. That black slave girl, Sari, that Adali found me to help with the baby is a good soul, bless her. She's going to spoil him completely and that's for certain, but without her how could I serve you?"

"You're more like your mother every day, Pansy. As sorry as I am to have taken you from your family, and from Dugald, I am so glad you are with me! What would I do without you?"

"Quite well, m'lady, and I've not a doubt. You're just being kind," demurred Pansy.

Velvet didn't press the issue any further, for it would have only embarrassed the loyal Pansy. Instead she said, "I want to rest for a few hours. I'm not certain what to do about food yet, for we've no cook, though Jodh Bai has promised me that she will send me one tomorrow."

"It's all been taken care of, m'lady," Pansy assured her. "His Majesty gave orders before he left the house that you were to eat without him. He will return late. Adali has sent Rohana to the kitchens of the zenana to arrange for a meal for us all. Let me make you comfortable, and then I'll bring your food. You can rest afterwards."

The meal arrived quickly and was hot and delicious. Velvet was hungry, and she greedily devoured the charcoal-broiled lamb kebobs with tiny sweet white onions, seasoned with pungent ground black pepper. There was a rice pilaf, a small dish of green vegetables, and little sweet cakes made from alternating layers of crisp dough, chopped almonds, and honey. Adali had also brought her a peacock blue carafe of sweet wine.

Finished with her meal, she bathed her hands and face in a basin of rosewater that Pansy brought her, and after the tiring woman had drawn back the silken coverlet on the bed, Velvet lay down and fell into a deep sleep.

It was close to midnight when Adali awakened her. "The master comes," he said, gently shaking her from her slumbers.

Slowly she arose from the silken cocoon that was their bed. The eunuch whisked her blouse and skirt from her, leaving her totally nude. Hurriedly Rohana sponged her with water into which jasmine oil had been poured, while Toramalli brushed Velvet's long auburn hair with a similarly scented brush. The room was then quickly neatened, the basin and brush put away just seconds before Akbar entered the room.

He opened his arms, and Adali swiftly removed his master's white robe with its silver sash and the matching silver turban. Beneath his robes Akbar was nude, but he showed no embarrassment at displaying his fine body before his wife's eunuch and slave girls. As Adali discreetly withdrew from the room, the emperor joined Velvet upon the bed. Rohana brought them each a cup of wine and then seated herself in a corner with Toramalli, who began to play a romantic Persian love song upon a stringed instrument.

"You are rested now, my Rose?"

"Quite, my lord," Velvet replied.

"Good," Akbar said with a smile, "for I intend to drive you hard this night."

"My lord!" Her tone rebuked him gently.

He chuckled. "I must if we are to fill that cradle in that sad and empty room across the hall." The look he sent her was a smoldering one.

"I would please you in all your desires, my lord," she teasingly answered. How handsome he is, she thought. He is so totally different from Alex with his craggy face. My lord Akbar's features are like those of a bird of prey, and yet when he looks at me those features soften and grow kind. It cannot be easy being a great ruler.

Akbar reclined on his side, his head propped up by his hand. "What are you thinking, Candra?" he asked her.

"I was thinking of how different you and Alex are," she answered him honestly.

"He was fair of skin?"

"Oh, yes, very! The men of my country are fair naturally, though they are known to brown in the sun."

"Does the fact that my skin is darker than yours bother you?" he asked.

"Oh, no, my lord! And except for your eyes, which slant just the tiniest bit, your features are quite like ours."

"We will make a beautiful child, my Rose." Then he reached out and caressed one of her breasts. Almost immediately the little nipple quivered into a point. He smiled and, leanning forward, stroked it with his warm tongue, circling it until it was rigid. Then his mouth closed over it, and he sucked hard, sending darts of painful pleasure to her very core.

Velvet fell back upon the bed, her breath coming in quick, little pants. Her fingers entwined themselves in his soft, black hair, sliding down to massage the nape of his neck. He rumbled with pleasure at her touch, and, having satisifed himself at her one breast, he moved his mouth to its twin. The deserted breast was not be neglected, however, for while his lips wreaked havoc on one, his free hand kneaded the other breast strongly, his fingers taunting it until Velvet was unable to lie quietly, so tantalizing were his actions.

"Keep still!" he commanded her. "If you give in too quickly to pleasure you lose half of it."

"It is too sweet," she protested.

"This is only the beginning, my Rose. It will be far sweeter before we are through." He shifted his weight now so that he was lying almost atop her, and his hands caught her face, his lips finding hers. They kissed until Velvet was forced to tear her head away from his, gasping for air, but he forced her back to his will, his mouth coming down again bruisingly upon hers. She felt his tongue moving insinuatingly along her lips, and she parted them so that he might penetrate her. Boldly she pushed her own tongue into his mouth, and he sucked upon it, savoring her sweetness. Sated now with her lips, he kissed her shadowed eyelids, the corners of her eyes and mouth, the sensitive place where her jawbone met her ear.

"There are many paths to pleasure," he murmured to her. "I would explore them with you, Candra. You are yet so innocent that the mere thought of your ignorance fires my blood."

"Teach me everything," she whispered back to him. "I would know all, my husband."

He smiled to himself at the naiveté of her words. "Not all, my Rose, for there are those who find pleasure in pain, and I do not believe you are one, are you?"

"Pleasure in pain? That is mad!"

"I agree, and yet there are people who cannot gain the summit of joy without it."

"That could never be my way, my lord."

"No," he agreed, "but there are other paths I would take with you, Candra. Perhaps they will not please you, and if that is so then we will not travel those paths again. Will you trust me to school you?" She nodded, and he continued, "Is the virginity of your bottom still intact?"

Velvet was puzzled. "The virginity of my bottom?" she said. "I do not understand, my lord."

"There are three passages by which the lingam may find pleasure. Within your mouth, your yoni, and the rose hole of your bottom," he explained. "You have learned the delights of the first two, and now I would instruct you in the third."

While Velvet pondered his words, Akbar spoke a swift command in Hindi to Rohana, who obediently arose from her seat and, going to one of the carved trunks, removed a rolled, quilted mattress of emerald green velvet, which she spread upon the floor. She then returned to her place by Toramalli's side and began to sing softly to the other girl's accompaniment.

"Come, my love," said Akbar, rising from the bed and drawing Velvet up after him. He led her to the mattress upon the floor. "We will need a firmer foundation for this than our marvelous bed."

Velvet looked at her two servant girls. "Must they remain?" she asked her husband.

"To make love is a natural thing," he answered her, "and their music will inspire us. Besides," he teased her gently, "they will not look. They are slaves, and it is not their place to watch, only to serve us. They know that should I see them staring I will have them blinded with hot coals so that they will never spy again upon their master."

Velvet shivered. He said the words so matter-of-factly. The differences between their cultures were staggering in some instances, and she wondered if she would ever get used to the contrast.

"Now, my Candra," Akbar began, "I want you to kneel, your legs spread just slightly, your head resting upon your folded arms." While she followed his instructions, Akbar took a small flask that Rohana had left by the mattress and opened it. Dipping his finger into the flask, he oiled the finger well. Then spreading the twin moons of her bottom, he began a gentle insertion of his finger. Velvet squealed and tried to twist away, but he quieted her, saying, "I will not hurt you, my love. Do not be frightened." He could feel her relax at the sound of his voice, and smoothly he moved his finger into her to the first knuckle. "Am I hurting you?" he questioned her.

"N-no, my lord, but I find the sensation strange," she said, low.

"Only because you are unfamiliar with it," he answered, and began a gentle rhythm with the encased digit. When she had become quite accustomed to this action, he withdrew his finger and re-oiled it along with a second finger. Rubbing the tight little pucker of her rose hole, he inserted both fingers. Velvet shrieked softly and once again attempted to evade the pressure of his fingers, but Akbar would not let her. Within her tight passage he veed the two fingers in an attempt to open her wider. When she realized that she wasn't being harmed, Velvet quieted once again. Slowly he moved his fingers back and forth until he felt she was ready to receive him fully. He was already hard with anticipation and the wine he had drunk, which was well laced with stimulants in order that he might perform well with his young wife. Removing his fingers, he now oiled his great shaft, and, holding her bottom open with one hand, he used the other to position himself.

"The first entry is the hardest as it was when your yoni was first penetrated. I will go very slowly, and although you will feel pressure, you should not really feel any pain."

"I am a little frightened," she admitted.

"New ways are always frightening, and this may not be to your taste, my Rose. Should that be so, we will not do it again. The pleasure should be for us both."

"Do you gain pleasure from this way, my lord?"

"Diversity has its advantages as one grows older," he answered her. Then he began to press firmly against her back passage. At first it would not give, but then as he increased the pressure the little opening began to blossom against the force of his eager shaft, which suddenly broke through. The head of his mighty lingam was firmly imbedded within her.

"Ohhhh!" Velvet cried softly, and she bit her lower lip.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked anxiously.

"N-n-o."

He gave her several moments to become used to the sensation, his hands now firmly grasping her hips. Then he began very slowly to move deeper within her. She was wonderfully tight, her little bottom passage seeming to almost suck him deep inside her each time he moved farther forward. He was finally lodged completely, and it took every ounce of his self-control to prevent himself from spilling his seed.

Velvet had never felt so filled in her entire life. She was not certain that she liked this manner of lovemaking. His weight pushed down upon her as he reached forward to crush her breasts within his hands. At the same time he began love's rhythm, drawing himself almost completely out of her back passage, then pushing himself back into her at an increasing rate of speed. His warm hands moved from her breasts downward to her very core, and he gently stroked her. Now Velvet began to grow restive and squirmed beneath his touch. To her surprise she felt the tension beginning to build within her, and she moaned softly. He quickened his pace, his own desire now building and growing as he plunged within the tight sheath. Her hips were now moving in tempo with his, thrusting upward to meet his own movement. Akbar could feel the storm of passion fast rising within his own body. Unable to control it any longer, he let it burst forward as with a cry Velvet collapsed beneath him.

For some minutes he lay, his weight pressing her down, and then, rolling off her, he pulled her into his arms.

"Tell me, Candra. Was it to your liking?"

She sighed deeply. "I gained some pleasure from it, my lord, but I do not think that given the choice I should choose to make love in this fashion often."

"Then we will not do it again, for pleasure should be the only outcome of our union."

"The only outcome?" she teased him.

He smiled to himself. She had not really enjoyed the last half-hour and yet she joked with him. He liked her spirit. Another woman would have wept and reproached him. "I cannot impregnate you every time we make love," he protested, and she laughed.

"I also do not believe you can give me a child in such an act as we have just performed, my lord."

Akbar chuckled, genuinely amused. God help him but he loved this fair-skinned girl with her wonderful reddish hair and her emerald green eyes. "Then we shall have to begin again at the beginning," he answered her. He called to the two serving girls who ceased their music and brought a basin of warm, scented water and love cloths to cleanse their master and mistress. Velvet bore with this stoically although she was still uncomfortable when the servants handled her so intimately.

When the girls had finished, Velvet spoke gently to her husband. "Send Rohana and Toramalli to their beds, my lord. It is late, and I will care for you myself. I prefer it. It is the way of my people, that women sweetly serve their men."

"How meek you sound, my Rose," he teased her. "I cannot believe it is you to whom I listen." Then he spoke quick words to the two serving maids, and they bowed themselves from the room. "Now," he said with mock seriousness, "you may serve me sweetly, my Candra."

"You have but to command me, my lord," she teased him back.

Standing, he drew her up and led her back to their bed. Then his arms tightened about her, their lips met in a fiery kiss, and they fell back onto the soft, silken mattress, their limbs intertwined. "I love you," he murmured against her mouth. "In the spring I will take you to Kashmir and build you a palace beside a blue lake. We will live forever in the shadows of the great mountains and raise our child in peace. Together you and I will hunt the ibex, the stag, the markhor, and the bear. You will like Kashmir, for its beauty is a perfect frame for your own. I will make you happy, Candra. By the great God who created us all, I swear it!"

"I am happy just being with you, my lord Akbar. How can you rule your kingdom if you exile yourself from its capital?

I cannot let you do that for me. It would be wrong. Keep me by your side, my dearest husband. It is all I ask of you."

"I am growing older," he answered her. "I have not been well in the last several years. Let Salim have it, for by God he longs for the power. Already he sows rebellion against me in order to claim his birthright. I will give it to him and depart. I will only take with me the wives whose company I actually enjoy. The others will remain here in Lahore. The fewer of my women I have with me, the less I will have to listen to their complaints. Now that I think on it I shall take only Rugaiya Begum and Jodh Bai with us."

"No, my lord Akbar. If you attempt to do this thing you will endanger me. You are not old and feeble. You are a great leader, a great king. You are loved and respected by all who know you. Abdicate your throne for a rash boy and you will plunge your country once again into a civil war. Salim cannot hold together the princely states as you do. If you love me, you must promise me that you will not leave the throne. Build me a palace in Kashmir, and each year in the hot weather we will journey forth there to enjoy the mountains and the waters."

"This is truly your wish, Candra? You are content to live in Lahore, to follow me across this land when I must go?"

"I am content, my husband, as long as I am with you."

He kissed her once again, this time his mouth fiercely taking possession of her soft lips. His hard body bore down upon hers, and she opened herself to him, sighing as he slipped his hard shaft within her silken sheath.

"You are mine," he whispered, raising his head to look down into her eyes. "Tell me you are mine, my beloved wife."

"I am yours, my lord husband, I am yours for as long as God will give us life, and afterwards I will be yours into eternity." Then taking his head between her hands she kissed him sweetly, kissed him until he could bear no longer the honeyed passion she aroused within him. With a ferocious cry he ground himself savagely into her, flooding her throbbing body with his essence, and together they created a child in that wonderful and blinding moment.