David gave her a quelling glance. “His stepmother is Aunt Charlotte,” he replied, as if that was reason enough.
The oddest sensation passed through Adeline just then. “To add to his harem?”
Wincing, David shook his head. “I don’t know that he’ll ever have a harem,” he murmured. “Other than... his unmarried sisters or aunts and the female servants,” he added on a sigh.
Adeline stared up at her brother with a look of uncertainty. “What about...concubines?” she asked in a whisper.
David allowed a huff. “He’s not like that. At least... not that I’m aware,” he whispered. Despite how closely the two had worked together while two universities and a palace were under construction—David overseeing the placement of mosaic designs and other interior decorations while Ertugrul saw to the overall buildings—he had never known the sehzade to speak of the women he took to his bed.
“Doyouhave a harem in Constantinople?”
“Of course not,” he replied, his face taking on a reddish cast. “And they’re not quite what you’re imagining.”
“Oh, I can imagine quite a lot,” she countered. “I have read about them. There are even some color plates of paintings in one of father’s books,” she claimed.
Wincing, David considered how to respond. He was fairly sure a male painter had never been allowed in a Turkish harem. Other than eunuchs and the sultan, no men were. “Just... promise me you’ll get to know our guest before you make any judgments, won’t you?” he pleaded.
Adeline regarded her brother with a furrowed brow before she finally nodded. “All right,” she agreed. “But don’t expect me to be the one to initiate any conversations with him. I’m terribly shy, you know.”
Scoffing as a huge grin split his face, David began laughing. “You? Shy?” he repeated.
Giving him a quelling glance, Adeline nearly stomped a slippered foot on the marble tiled floor. “Wallflower,” she said by way of a reminder.
Wondering what might have happened to cause his sister to gain a reputation as a wallflower, David decided he could find out from his father after dinner. They would no doubt play a game of billiards. Teach Ertugrul how to play, if the sehzade didn’t already know. David would simply use the time to discover what had happened in the Bostwick household since he last lived in it.
“I’ll be here in the front salon,” Adeline said. “Or in the parlor with Mother.”
David’s gaze darted around the small room, which faced Park Lane. Besides a couple of floral upholstered chairs, a settee and a low table, there was an escritoire and a chair against one wall. For a moment, he couldn’t remember ever having been in the salon before. “What is this room for?” he asked.
“Me,” she replied. “It’s where I host my friends when they come for tea.”
Pulling his head back as his brows furrowed, David regarded her with a curious expression. “Your own parlor?”
A flush colored Adeline’s face. “What of it?”
David glanced toward the door again. “Isn’t there a parlor on the first floor?”
Rolling her eyes, Adeline leaned toward him and said, “Yes, but it’s Mother’s parlor. Where she hostsherguests,” she replied. “And one of my friends has been in an accident and can’t climb stairs very well.”
Suspicious, David was about to respond when there was a quiet knock. His father poked his head around the door. “I hate to break up your reunion, but might I have a word with you?” the viscount asked, his attention on his daughter.
Adeline’s eyes rounded, and a look of guilt crossed her face. “Yes, Father,” she replied.
“I’m going up to change for dinner,” David said, his suspicious gaze still on his sister. He turned, stepped around his father, and hurried up the stairs.
George and Adeline watched him until he had made the turn at the landing. “What is it, Father?”
“Come into my study,” he replied, leading her as they took the twenty steps to the other room’s door.
Hesitating before she entered the study, Adeline gave her father a beseeching glance.
Whatever had she done?
