Panther's Prey (27 page)

Amy relaxed, he let her go, and she turned to throw her arms around his neck.

“Malik–oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” she gasped, clasping him close. “I’ve been going crazy, imagining all sorts of horrible things. I haven’t seen you, I’ve had no word from you, where on earth have you been?”

“Shh! Do want someone to hear us?” he whispered, holding her off to look at her. He took in her clothes and jewelry, her elaborate hair. “You look so beautiful,” he added softly.

Amy’s eyes widened and she put her hand to her throat. “Malik, you have to go!”

“I just got here,” he said, smiling.

“But you don’t understand, the Sultan is inside!”

“I know that,” he said calmly. “I saw him arrive.”
 

“But this is too dangerous, you could be picked up at any moment.”

“Amelia, listen to me. I haven’t been able to get near your house for the past several weeks. I had no alternative but to take this chance.”

She stared at him.

“Several extra patrols of janissaries have been added to the Pera sector since the last time I saw you,” Malik said. “Your street is the most heavily guarded, probably because it’s the wealthiest. I’ve tried three times to come to your house and haven’t been able to get through. I couldn’t risk sending a note or a message to the house, so when I read in the newspaper about this party, I came because I knew you would be here.”

A shadow passed across the windows behind them and they both drew back.

“You have been watching me from outside all night?” Amy whispered, relaxing as the shadow moved away.

He nodded.

“Just waiting for the chance to get me alone?”

He nodded again.

“Oh, Malik, I love you so,” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. He kissed her back, longingly, until she remembered their circumstances and pulled away from him.

“You have to go,”she said. “It’s too risky for you to be here and I’ll be missed before long.”

“Then I have to say goodbye for a while,” he replied.
 

“No, no! If you can’t come to the house just tell me where to meet you tonight and I’ll get there.”
 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Amelia, you can’t run around the city by yourself after dark. You don’t know the area beyond a few streets in Pera, you wouldn’t last five minutes before being picked up by a patrol–or much worse.”

“Then think of something!” she said, almost in tears. “I have to be with you tonight.”
 

He considered a moment, then looked at the line of carriages waiting in the embassy drive, horses lazily chomping turf, coachmen seated on their boxes or conversing in groups.

“Did you arrive in one of those?” he asked, nodding toward the waiting conveyances.

“Yes, with James and Aunt Bea.”
 

“Can you tell your aunt that you’re not feeling well and want to go home early?” he asked.

“Yes, I suppose so. Why?”

“If you can take the coach and ask them to go home with some of their friends, I’ll find a way to get into the carriage before you leave here. Then you can slip me into the house.”

Amy looked up at him, hope growing inside her. “Good,” she said. “Good idea.”

“Which one is it?” he asked.

Amy pointed. “Second to last before the drive curves left, with the blue doors.”

He nodded. “I see it. Now go.”

Amy kissed him again, quickly, and said, “I’ll see you soon.” She picked up her skirts and hurried back across the terrace, stepping inside just as the orchestra began to play a brisk czardas. She made her way around the edge of the dance floor, sighing with relief when she saw Beatrice talking with Mrs. Lambert. She went up to the two women and waited for her aunt to notice her.

“Amelia! I haven’t seen you all night, and I’ve been wanting to talk with you. I’ve received nothing but compliments about you and James and I are so proud.”

“Thank you, Aunt Bea. I’ve been looking for you too, I’d like to ask a favor.”

“What is it?”

“I wonder if I might leave early. I have a bit of a headache. I’ve checked off all my dances and I’ll say goodbye to Mrs. Ballinger before I go.”

“Of course, dear, I’m sorry to hear that you’re not feeling well,” Bea replied. “I’ll send James to get your wrap.”

“May I take the carriage?” Amy asked, holding her breath.

“Certainly. James and I will get a ride with someone else, or you can send the driver back for us.”

Amy exhaled as quietly as possible.

“No need,” Mrs. Lambert interjected. “William and I will drop you off at home, Bea.”

Amy leaned forward to kiss her aunt and said, “I had a lovely time. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, dear,” her aunt replied.

Amy found Mrs. Ballinger and had a mercifully brief conversation, and by the time she left the ballroom James was waiting in the embassy foyer with her cape.

“Maybe I should see you home,” he said, as he dropped the wrap over her shoulders.

Amy froze. “No, Uncle James. I don’t want you to leave the party. I’ll be quite safe.”
 

“Are you sure? If anything else happens to you Beatrice will be quite beside herself.”

“I’m sure. It’s a short trip and your driver has a pistol.”

“Very well. But let me at least hand you into the carriage,” James said.

Amy gritted her teeth but took his proffered arm, aware that if she protested too much James was sure to think something was amiss. She waited as James instructed the driver and then ascended the portable steps, turning to smile at Bea’s husband as he closed the door after her.

“Good night,” she said, and waved.

“Good night, Amelia.”

The driver removed the steps and climbed onto his box. He clucked to the horses
 
as James went back up the steps. Amelia looked around frantically, trying to spot Malik by the light of the gas lamps lining the embassy drive as the horses ambled forward.

Suddenly both mares reared and the driver yanked on the reins. The coach lurched to a quick stop and the driver jumped down to the ground.

“What is it?” Amy called to him.

“Maybe something in the path, miss, not to worry,” the driver called back in his singsong English. “I’ll have a look.” He walked forward, holding his oil lamp aloft.

At the same instant the coach door opened and Malik bolted through it, flinging himself flat on the floor.

“What did you do?” Amy hissed, lifting her legs onto the seat to accommodate him.

“I threw a rock onto the drive to spook the horses,” he said. “Now be quiet and let’s hope the driver doesn’t suspect anything.”

Amy removed her cape and dropped it over the prone man at her feet. She watched the driver look around and then return to say to her, “Can’t see a thing, miss. Must have been an animal in the bushes that frightened the horses.”

“All right,” Amy replied. “Thanks for checking. You may proceed.”

The coachman touched his cap, and then the vehicle rocked as he climbed back up to his seat. When the horses started to walk again she murmured to Malik, “I think we’re all right. Just stay where you are and I’ll get you out somehow when we arrive.”

There was no reply, but a slim brown hand reached up and squeezed her ankle.

The trip back to the Woolcott home seemed to increase by several kilometers, and as they traveled through the streets near the house Amy saw the patrolling janissaries Malik had mentioned. She hadn’t been out this late since Malik’s last visit and had not known of their presence. But they knew about her, or rather her family, as well as its mode of transportation. She saw two of the Sultan’s men salute her driver as they passed.
 

When the coach finally pulled into the
porte cochere
next to the house Amy sagged with relief. As the driver came to the door to hand her down she said quickly, “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Yes, miss?”

“Could you go into the house and get my heavy gray cape from the entry hall closet? I know it’s only a short walk inside but I’m really quite chilled, possibly feverish, and the one I have here is too light.”

The driver, an elderly Armenian who had spent his life humoring the baffling whims of rich Westerners in Pera, nodded resignedly. As soon as he walked out of sight Amy pulled her wrap off Malik and said, “Go. Wait outside the flower room entrance and I’ll let you into the house as soon as I can.”

He scrambled out the door and she saw him run for the shrubbery. When the driver returned with her cape she thanked him effusively, slipping it on as if it were made of ermine.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome, miss.”
 

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Amy added as she descended from the coach. “You can put up the horses now, as you won’t have to go out again. Good night.”

“Good night, miss,” he said, leading the mares forward as she went into the house.

The house was quiet when she entered it; the servants were asleep and Amy hoped that James and Bea would not return for another couple of hours. Amy stood at the kitchen window and saw a light appear in the stable, then waited, watching for the progress of the coachman’s lamp from the stalls and up the outside steps to the room over the barn. When she saw the fuzzy glow stop in one place and she felt sure that the driver was in for the night, she ran to the flower room door and yanked it open joyfully.

Malik stepped over the threshold and scooped her into his arms.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry it took so long, I had to wait for the coachman to go up to his room,” she said, her words muffled by his shirt. “I was afraid he might see me open the door to you, this side of the house is visible from the stables but not from the window in his room.”
 

“It’s all right,” Malik replied, setting her on her feet. “I saw him go, I knew why you were waiting.”

They looked at one another in the dark kitchen.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said huskily.

Amy took his hand and led him through the house and up to the landing, both of them treading lightly, alert to a creak in the floors or any other sound that might signal they were about to have company. They fled along the gallery and into Amy’s room; she felt safe only when she had turned the key in the lock and sought the haven of Malik’s arms once more.

He kissed her immediately, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. They embraced as fully as possible with Amy trapped in her voluminous gown. Finally Malik, frustrated by the dress, panted, “How do I get this off?”

She got up from the bed and turned away from him. “There are hooks and eyes down the back,” he said.

He stood behind her and said, “Hooks and eyes?”

She pointed over her shoulder.

He wrestled with the metal closures and finally said, “I can’t do it.”

“Rip it,” Amy said.

She heard the sound of cloth tearing, then felt his mouth on her bare shoulder as he pulled the bodice down to her waist. He yanked again and the capacious skirt fell to the floor.

“And what is all this?” he said, pulling at her strapless, heavily boned corset. He began to laugh. “It must take you an hour to get dressed.”

“It laces down the back,” Amy told him, ignoring his amusement. “Listak helps me.”

He made a few swift gestures behind her and the corset fell off into her hands.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I cut the laces with my knife,” he replied. He turned her to face him and picked her up again, setting her on the bed. He pulled off her step-ins and stockings, discarding the rest of her clothes methodically until she was naked. Then he dropped next to her and said, “I think I’ll take a nap now. I need a rest after all that work.”

Amy flung herself on top of him and kissed the warm hollow of his throat, slipping her hands under his loosened shirt and caressing him.

“Still feeling tired?” she purred, straddling him.

“I’m reviving,” he murmured, sucking in his breath as she moved one hand under the waistband of his pants.

“How about now?” she whispered.

“I’m revived,” he answered, sighing, closing his eyes as she touched him.

“So I can tell,” she said. “In fact, this part of your anatomy never seemed tired at all.”

He seized her shoulders and rolled her under him, switching positions with her in an instant.

“You’re a quick study,” he said, nibbling the fleshy lobe of her ear.

“Americans learn fast. But I still feel I need more practice,” she answered, holding his head against her as he turned his attention to her throat, her breasts. A silence fell as he made love to her; when he raised his head again his face was serious. All traces of his teasing mood had vanished.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” he said thickly.

“No one else has, and no one else will,” she answered him softly.