Murad came and handed her the glass of lemon-flavored liquid. Alex found herself grateful to him. She sensed that his compassion was genuine.
“I will forward any correspondence you wish,” Neilsen said, standing.
Alex did not bother to respond.
“Mrs. Thornton, might I ask you how you came to be captured here in Tripoli?”
For a moment, Alex did not answer. “It is a strange story. You would not believe me if I told you.” Alex realized that she had better invent a good tale to tell, but she was too despondent, worried, and exhausted to do so now.
“When you are ready to talk to me, please send for me. Jebal will allow you to see me again, I am sure. Even after your conversion.”
Alex stiffened. “I cannot convert to Islam. I will not.”
Neilsen blinked. “But now that I have told you that there is no hope of your being freed, surely you would not refuse Jebal’s offer?”
Alex stood up, swaying and unbalanced. Murad gripped her arm. “How can you encourage me to become that man’s mistress? That is what he intends, you know.”
Neilsen gaped. “I am not encouraging you to become his mistress, my God!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Clearly you do not. Jebal did not tell you?”
Alex said tersely, “He did not tell me what?”
“He wants you to become his wife,” Neilsen said.
Alex froze.
“His second wife,” Neilsen said. “You did not realize? Actually, it is a great honor. He has fallen in love with you, Mrs. Thornton.”
Alex did not hear a single word the Dane was saying as he continued to speak. Her stunned mind began to function.Jebal wished to marry her. And Xavier Blackwell had been executed in July 1804 for his affair with the Moslem wife of the bashaw’s son.
“Mrs. Thornton? Are you unwell?”
Alex knew that all the color had drained from her face. She knew that Murad held her upright. That both men, the consul and the slave, stared at her with concern. But her blood began to pump again, the shock and amazement began to abate.
Ohmygod!
Destiny … this was her destiny, it was all predestined … She was to be Xavier Blackwell’s lover.
But then what?
She shook free of Murad and gripped Neilsen’s hands. “There is an American here, an American sea captain, Xavier Blackwell. Tell me where he is?”
The consul appeared thoughtful. “I know of no such man.”
“That’s impossible! He was captured with his entire crew, and they are here, in captivity. His ship was thePearl,a merchantman from Boston. She was blown up before she could be taken as a prize back to the bashaw. His name is Xavier Blackwell. He is here, somewhere, in Tripoli. I know it!”
The Dane slowly shook his head. “This captain and his entire crew, taken captive? The bashaw denied such a rich prize? Mrs. Thornton, if such a man had been taken captive, not only would I know of it, the entire city would know of it—as would the entire world.”
Alex could not believe her ears. Neilsen was lying—he had to be. Blackwell was in Tripoli. Alex knew it. There was no other possibility—unless she had arrived too late—unless he was already dead.
“Mrs. Thornton?”
Alex faced Neilsen. Trembling. “What is today’s date?”
He gazed at her with mild surprise. “Why, it is March first, of course. Monday, if you must know.”
