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Authors: Helen Dickson

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BOOK: Mistress Below Deck
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After three nights on the road, as the sun sank towards the horizon in a glory of crimson and gold,
they had their first glimpse of Meknes. Silently they paused and contemplated the city overlooking the River Fakran. It was like a fantastic jewel, concocted in the last century by Moulay Ismail, the very sultan who still ruled his massive domain by fear.

The cultivated valley of fields and orchards rose to low houses built in mud and clay. Behind them crenellations like lace festooned the high white wall, glowing pink in the sunset like some delicious sugary confection, which gave an aura of enchantment to the scene. It stretched for miles, curving away out of sight. Beyond could be glimpsed a forest of gleaming, glittering turrets and minarets and gilded domes of the sultan's imperial palace. It was built on a grand scale—an impregnable fortress to withstand the mightiest army on earth.

Rowena could not believe her eyes. Silently she contemplated this gorgeous pink jewel. ‘What manner of man could build a place like this?' she breathed, complete awestruck.

‘An emperor,' Tobias answered. ‘The building never stops. Everything you see—the wall, every column and battlement—has been built by an army of Christian slaves, and they are kept in the most wretched state. Too many have succumbed to the rigors of hard labour. The sultan orders a new building to be built almost every day, and just as quickly has it pulled down if it doesn't suit his taste. What you see is just one of his palaces. In fact, the complex is huge. There are a further fifty palaces at least, where scheming viziers and eunuchs keep their courts. It is all interconnecting, with stables,
pleasure gardens, orchards and harems, all housing the sultan's concubines, which runs into hundreds—possibly more. No one knows exactly.'

‘But—the children?' Rowena asked, completely overwhelmed by the sheer scale of everything.

‘Are well taken care of.'

‘What do the women of the harem find to do all day if they are kept in isolation—hundreds of them all cooped up together? I cannot imagine a worse fate. Do they not get bored?'

Amused by her question, Tobias laughed softly. ‘All the time, I imagine. You should know better than I what women do—primp and preen and paint themselves in front of their looking glasses, I suppose, spending hours at it, since they have the time and nothing else to do.'

‘And only each other to show off to, since the sultan cannot possibly be with them very often, there being so many.' She sighed, her eyes sweeping over the city. ‘I wonder where Jane is within all this. If it's as large as you say it is, then we may never find her. It looks pretty impregnable to me.'

‘The city has been designed to withstand a possible siege, and with granaries and a reservoir and a massive standing army, it could last for decades.'

To Rowena's surprise Tobias turned his horse around and left the road, indicating that Henry and Sam should do the same.

‘What are you doing?' she called after him. ‘Can we not enter?'

‘Nothing can be achieved tonight. We'll eat and then
bed down outside the city. If we were to ride into Meknes tonight, we would have to find lodgings and draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Better to begin making our enquiries in the morning.'

Reluctantly seeing the sense of this, Rowena followed. They searched for a place to camp for the night, settling on somewhere they thought would be safe enough in a grove of tall trees set back from the road.

Rowena slid off her horse and began preparing herself for another night in the open.

* * *

Early the next morning she was awake and eager to enter the city. Dawn came with a hint of orange and gold. The numerous dogs within the city began their incessant barking. They seemed to be competing with the heavy wooden mallets pounding the clay into shape to be added to the ramparts.

She was surprised to see Sam and Henry squatting in front of their tent, seemingly in no hurry to leave. Tobias was with the horses, where three of them nuzzled at the sparse grass, and he was saddling the other.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Getting ready to leave.'

She experienced a vague feeling of foreboding. Something she did not quite like about his manner was beginning to take form and she tensed. ‘Then I'll go and tell Sam and Henry to get ready.'

‘I'm going alone, Rowena. I have decided.'

She stood and faced him squarely, staring at him in disbelief. ‘What?'

‘I want you to remain here with Sam and Henry. You will be quite safe.'

‘I'm sure I shall be, but I am not staying here without you.'

‘Yes, you are,' he told her, ignoring her impassioned plea. ‘Please don't argue with me.'

‘I am going with you, Tobias. Devil take it! I have not come all this way to be left behind at the last minute.' Her voice was vibrant with emotion, that ever-present temper threatening to erupt.

‘You will. I've told you, Sam and Henry will protect you.'

‘I don't need to be protected.' Rowena was angry and indignant, and his conceit goaded her resolve. The utter helplessness of being a woman totally at the mercy of a man struck her with full force. Then her dominant self-respect flared into life. ‘What do you expect me to do? Wait here?'

‘Precisely. And I don't expect to have my orders questioned,' Tobias rapped out, tightening the horse's girth.

‘And I am not some kind of subordinate who takes orders,' she flared. All the time anguish at the thought of being left behind at the crucial moment was tearing at her insides.

Tobias stopped what he was doing and looked at her. Dear Lord, when she was all fired up and her eyes spitting sparks in her sun-kissed face, she was like a beautiful, vibrant goddess, but his judgement was tempered not with admiration, but with fear. Taking her arm, he dragged her to the other side of the horse where
the world seemed to dwindle to just him and herself, where they could not be observed by the other two.

His eyes were glacial when they locked on to hers. ‘I expect to be obeyed,' he hissed, ‘especially when it comes to taking you inside such a dangerous place as Meknes.'

‘And what do you think will happen to me?' she flared, too furious to quail before the murderous look tightening his face and the dangerous spark that entered his eyes. She was instantly alarmed by the hard set to his face, as if her defiance had distanced them. She tried to pry her arm loose from the iron grip of his fingers, but his fear for her and his anger with her made him cruel. ‘Beneath these robes, who is to know who or what I am? I look no different to everyone else.' Her eyes were narrowed and mutinous and her jutting chin challenging. ‘If you don't take me, then I shall go by myself.'

‘Damnation! Don't you dare. Be reasonable. You cannot enter that place alone. You neither know nor understand the language. Open your mouth once and you will find yourself arrested.'

Tobias was white lipped with anger, a fierce, knife-edged anger that made Rowena take a step back. The coldness in his eyes and set to his mouth would have done justice to an executioner, but she would not give up. ‘I shall. I don't care.'

‘I do, and I would be obliged if you would accept that you have certain obligations, which seem to have slipped your mind.'

‘To you, I suppose you mean,' she scoffed. ‘Dear God, do you think of nothing else but that—that
wretched bargain?' Even as she uttered these words, inside her that treacherous spark ignited and she felt the warmth of it spread throughout her body.

The corner of his mouth quirked and his eyes glittered down at her. ‘I do think about it—often, if you must know, but not at the moment, my love—'

‘I am not your love,' she hissed, the Rowena temper so rigorously suppressed of late erupting in all its fury.

‘No, but you will be. You misunderstood me. It was to your sister I was referring when I spoke of obligations. What good will you be to her if you are captured—which could very well happen in that nest of miscreants? I have never been to Meknes, but I have heard sufficient to be alarmed and afraid of what I will find when I get in there. When I have made my observations and made enquiries as to the whereabouts of Suleiman, I shall return and decide what to do next.'

‘But—you don't understand…'

A deadly smile twisted his lips and his voice became dangerously quiet. ‘It is you who does not understand, Rowena. Jane is a prisoner, and so she shall remain as long as the sultan demands it. What did you imagine would happen when we got here—that he will be moved by her plight, open the gates of his palace to her and simply let her go free, wishing her every happiness?'

‘And if he had an ounce of decency he would do that very thing,' Rowena cried irrationally, unable to conceal her desperation.

The grip on her arms tightened and he thrust his face close to hers. ‘Confound it! Stop this nonsense and wait
here. Can't you get it into that stubborn head of yours that it is you I am thinking of—your safety? I can't for the life of me think what all this is about.'

Her head came up. ‘Can't you?' she said, realising that Tobias was her greatest protection. ‘I'm scared, Tobias. I'm scared you won't come back. What shall we do if you don't? It doesn't bear thinking about.'

Tobias stopped what he was doing. Cupping her chin in his hand, he looked deep into her eyes, and when his mouth closed over hers, she was surprised at the tenderness of his kiss. Warm and firm and yet infinitely tender, his lips moved persuasively over hers. She did not resist. There was reverence as well as desire in that passionate demand. The reverence quickened her heart.

When he raised his head she felt much calmer. ‘Why did you do that?'

He gave her a slow smile. ‘Because I wanted to, and to soothe your fears.'

‘I'm sorry I made a fuss,' she murmured, impressed by his knowledge of the situation, her anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. ‘I know how difficult this must be for you and that I must seem ungrateful, but I'm not, truly.'

‘I do know that. You're in no danger here and I will return just as soon as I have gleaned enough information to know how to proceed next. Sam and Henry are well armed, don't forget. You're a survivor, Rowena. That's what I like about you. Be patient a while longer.'

Ten minutes later, alongside Sam and Henry, Rowena watched him ride towards Meknes. She would
remember every detail of that sun-bronzed, strong face, alive with the challenge of what lay ahead. His words and his kiss lived on in her mind, filling her with restlessness of many questions. She was moved by her admiration for him, by what he said and did, and disconcerted by the sudden violence of her feelings. But she must never let herself forget what was in it for him and the bargain they had made. He would go to any lengths to make her his conquest. She was his prey. He intended to seduce her, and nothing was going to deter him from trying.

But that was in the future, when Jane was free and they were back in England. For now she was glad of Tobias's support, his protection and his strength.

Chapter Nine

R
owena spent the day watching the road, her heart beating with fear and hope, jumping at every white-clad figure that emerged from the city mounted on a horse. Many people passed by where they camped under the wayside trees, but Rowena and her companions were all sufficiently dusty and unkempt to attract no more than a perfunctory glance.

* * *

The sun was going down in a blaze of red when she saw Tobias riding towards her and her heart leapt. Scrambling to her feet, she waited for him to come closer. His head was bare and the light gleamed on his dark hair. Something in those brilliant blue eyes that settled on her made her catch her breath. Once more she felt her body heat with passion, and for once she did not care. He had not been gone more than half a day and she had missed him and long been denied the intimacy of being close to him, and on board ship, having determinedly
kept her mind from such feelings, now she recklessly welcomed them.

Yes, she desperately wanted to see Jane set free from her captivity and had spent a good part of the day thinking about her, but Tobias had occupied the greater part of her thoughts and she could not altogether hide her delight and relief at seeing him return—and he had about him an air of optimism that lifted her spirits.

She went to him, holding his horse while he dismounted. She smiled. ‘I'm glad you're back.'

As he wiped the sweat from his eyes, his imposing figure blocked out the trees behind him. Tobias met her gaze, his eyes moving over her easily and familiarly, his lips curved in an answering smile. ‘I'm glad to be back. See,' he said, unfastening a sack from his horse, ‘I've brought some food.'

Rowena stepped back when Henry and Sam came to relieve him of the provisions, hoping its contents were more appetising than the dried meat and couscous that had been their staple diet since leaving Sale. Opening the sack, they were all delighted to find a collation of dates, melons, figs and sweetmeats and other tasty morsels.

  

Not until they had eaten and Henry and Sam had drifted away to indulge in a game of cards—their favourite pastime—did Tobias give Rowena his news.

‘We're in luck. Certain important developments are happening in the city,' he told his companion, who was sitting cross legged on the ground, avidly listening to everything he had to say. ‘A party of Englishmen led by a
Commodore Charles Stewart arrived a few days ago, with a treaty signed by the King. He is to negotiate the release of British and colonial slaves. The treaty also decrees that British ships will not be apprehended or plundered.'

‘And will the sultan sign the treaty?'

‘Stewart expects a prompt and successful response to all his demands. He is hopeful of meeting with the sultan tomorrow.'

‘And were you able to meet Commodore Stewart?'

He nodded. ‘I was shown to his lodgings.'

‘And Suleiman? Have you managed to find out anything about him—and his captives?'

‘I haven't been able to track him down, but there seems little point. The women he brought with him are already in the harem.'

Rowena's heart sank. ‘And will Jane be freed do you think?'

‘We will have to wait and see what happens between the sultan and Stewart.'

‘What kind of man is he?'

‘He is exactly the kind of man who might be able to get the sultan to agree to his request. He was a sea captain, with a turbulent career. He is amiable, charming and a master of flattery, with all the airs and graces of an ambassador, and in the court of Moulay Ismail, where sycophancy rules, Stewart will prove himself a master.'

‘What shall we do now?'

‘Wait and see what happens.'

* * *

Their arrival coincided with the end of Ramadan, which Muslims were obligated to spend in fasting and ritual prayer. It was celebrated with much festivity and feasting. To break the monotony of waiting for things to happen, Tobias asked Rowena if she would like to partake of the pageantry. Her eyes lit up eagerly.

Tobias's face was uncovered and Rowena saw his teeth gleam and was happy to see he was smiling. The smile comforted her and gave her courage. Returning his smile, she met his gaze and nodded. ‘We might as well. A bit of fun can't go amiss while we are waiting.'

‘That's true.'

‘We'll walk to the city. The exercise will do us good. Besides, the streets will be so crowded it will be difficult finding somewhere to leave the horses.'

Reaching for her hat, Rowena scratched her head and grimaced before covering her hair. ‘Dear Lord, how I would like to wash my hair. Never in my life have I felt so filthy. I swear that if I go to live at Tregowan Hall I shall have the luxury of a bathing chamber installed and wallow in it every day.'

‘You will? So you still intend to marry Lord Tregowan?'

She nodded, falling into step with him as they began walking towards the city. ‘If he hasn't withdrawn his offer to marry me—although if he hasn't, he might when he realises I am neither respectable or chaste.'

‘Chaste! Now there's a word to play with.' His remark was studied and slow, and his smile was almost
salacious. ‘You are referring to the fact that you will no longer be chaste when you have met our bargain.'

‘What else?'

‘And you will?'

She was unable to meet his eyes. ‘Yes. I have debts to pay, and the least of them to you. Unless…'

‘No.' The blue eyes glinted like hard metal and he grinned confidently. ‘A bargain is a bargain, Rowena. Sooner or later you will honour it.'

They joined the close-packed masses, which stirred like a field of corn in a strong breeze. Henry and Sam, having heard nothing about Meknes that made them want to enter, preferred to stay behind with the horses. Rowena was mesmerised by the city. Bronze doors and porphyry columns sparkled in the sun. Moorish stucco was chiselled and fretted into intricate honeycomb, beautiful mosaics were designed in geometric perfection, and slabs of jasper and marble all caught and reflected the African sunlight.

The parade, which began mid-morning, was a magnificent affair, one that surely gratified the vanity of Moulay Ismail. It could be heard long before it came into view. There was much firing of guns as a cavalcade of soldiers on horseback came into view, followed by an even more colourful and flamboyant troop of guardsmen carrying a large red standard with a half-moon in the centre.

They fired indiscriminately and Rowena commented laughingly to Tobias that it was a wonder no one was shot, although there was much singeing of turbans. A magnificent troop of foot soldiers clothed in leopard skins came
next and they all filled the parade ground. Rowena wrinkled her nose at the acrid stench of burning powder.

And then came the moment Rowena and Tobias had waited for—the arrival of Moulay Ismail himself. He was a glittering figure, seated on his horse decked with pompoms and streamers, the saddle of beaten gold set with emeralds and other precious gems. Holding a gun he was surrounded by gorgeously dressed fawning attendants and his loyal black guard decked in armour followed by more impressive foot soldiers, bearing standards, battle axes and spears.

Never had Tobias or Rowena seen anything to compare with this magnificent gaudy spectacle, but it was the man on the horse that held their gaze. Tobias felt the hair at the base of his scalp prickle as though it were lifting. The imposing figure managed to convey a disquieting presence, and Rowena was sure the man gave off a special smell, rank and menacing, of power, dangerous and deadly.

Rowena had given little thought to what he would look like, and was surprised to see he was a toothless old man with a withered frame, perhaps in his seventies. His cheeks were hollow, his lips above his forked beard fleshy. His eyes were sunk deep into his head and his aquiline nose was like a bird's beak, and he coughed and spat all the time.

Having no wish to remain any longer, she touched Tobias's arm. ‘Let's go back. I've seen enough.'

* * *

Each day Tobias rode into the city, hoping for new developments. Commodore Stewart had been in discussions
about the release of the British and colonial slaves with the sultan, but the sultan was in no hurry and was anxious that the ambassador be shown the glories of his imperial palace. It took several days for the sultan to sign the treaty.

After many delays and setbacks and Stewart's impatience growing daily concerning the release of the slaves, one of the sultan's favourite wives interceded. She went to the sultan and appealed on Commodore Stewart's behalf, whereby the sultan expressed his willingness to comply.

   

Tobias arrived back at the camp with grim news for Rowena.

Rowena listened to what he had to say, immensely relieved to learn of the captives' release, but there was something wrong.

‘And Jane?' she asked tentatively.

‘The sultan has failed to free any of the women in the harem.'

Sick horror froze the air, paralysing the young woman who had waited so long to hear the outcome. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed, and she moved her head in a small, helpless gesture that was more pitiful than words. The sight of her distress sent a physical pain through Tobias's heart.

‘I'm sorry, Rowena. I know how much this means to you.'

Her eyes were wide with an effort to hold back the tears of angry despair. At that moment all the hope now
lay in ashes at her feet. ‘No—by merciful heavens, it can't be true! It can't possibly. It's a disaster,' she cried out, anger fighting with a disappointment more profound than she had ever known.

Tobias knew the pain in Rowena's heart. He could feel it almost as a tangible thing. She was in a different world, far removed from the peace and quiet of her home town of Falmouth. Here she walked in a land of strangers, whose culture and religion were so very different from her own. For all that, he was moved by her frustration and bitterness.

‘It doesn't have to be a disaster, Rowena.'

She stared at him, becoming aware of how tired he looked, and how hard he must have tried on her behalf. ‘No, you're right. It doesn't. We must go on. We cannot weaken and let go. We have come so far. I cannot abandon Jane to the life that will be forced on her. Her position will be intolerable. What is your answer to the problem, Tobias?'

Needing to have something to do, she began placing pieces of wood on the fire. It flared into rosy sparks, and, placing a can of water in the middle she sat back on her heels.

Tobias looked at her candidly. She seemed more thoughtful than she had earlier and was struggling within herself. He was silent for a long time, then he cleared his throat. ‘What you say is right. There is only one important fact as I see it, and that is what we both agree on and what we see is right. I too have made up my mind not to abandon Jane.'

Rowena spread her hands on her knees, her face strained. A small muscle worked in her cheek and her hands trembled slightly. She looked him full in the face, a deep respect in the depths of her eyes. ‘Thank you, Tobias. You'll never know how much it means to me to hear you say that.'

She felt the tears gathering in her eyes and kept her head bent as she poured the boiling water over the tea to infuse the leaves. When it was ready, Tobias took the cup she offered.

Making herself more comfortable on the ground, she took a sip of the hot liquid and looked around her. ‘The wildness and brutality of this place has changed me,' she murmured at length. ‘It has brought out strengths and weaknesses I didn't know I had. And it will go on testing me until I get back home.' Her lips curved in a wobbly smile. ‘Probably all spent and worked out.'

‘But not defeated,' Tobias said softly.

Her smile widened, but it was a brave, tired smile. ‘No, not defeated. Were all the English captives released?'

‘Those who have survived the enforced labour and the brutality of their captors—apart from the renegades.'

‘The renegades?'

‘The apostates—those who renounced their Christian faith.'

‘Even though they did so against their will?'

He nodded slowly. ‘Even so.'

‘Then they have the rest of their lives to regret doing so. What shall we do now?'

‘I raised the issue with Commodore Stewart. There
is nothing he can do—in fact, he intends leaving Meknes with his released captives before the sultan changes his mind and prevents him. Stewart is of the impression that Suleiman, who is close to one of the sultan's wives, can be bribed.'

Rowena's eyes flew to his. ‘Suleiman? Will you…?'

‘We have nothing to lose.'

‘Only our lives should the sultan find out,' she pointed out quietly.

‘That is true, but we have to think positively, Rowena.'

‘I do try,' she whispered, her stomach tightening with the cruelty of it all. She had set her mind not to be frightened, yet her knees were weak and an uncontrollable trembling made holes in her resolve. Her chin quivered and the sting of tears smarted her eyes. She was terribly afraid, not knowing what was in store for them, but convinced the miscreants of Meknes planned some hideous fate for them all.

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