“The one and only,” he affirmed. “He’s coming home. For certain, this time, or so he wrote,” he added as he lifted a white envelope from the silver salver on his desk.
“Oh! When?” she asked, taking the note from him.
“They are expected to arrive on theSun of Apolloin Southampton the day after tomorrow,” he replied. “I’ve already arranged for them to take the train from the Southampton Docks, and I’ll have the traveling coach collect them at the Nine Elms station here in London,” he explained.
“Well, shouldn’t we be there to meet him in Southampton?” she asked as she flitted about the office, her movements indicating her mind was racing with plans.
Prepared for her reaction, George grinned. “You and Adeline have a garden party to attend—”
“I can miss a garden party—”
“At your mother’s.”
Elizabeth clamped her mouth shut. “Damnation,” she muttered. Her eyes rounded. “What about you? Can you meet him?”
“I can,” he replied. “If you insist—”
“I do.”
“I’ll head down on the train tomorrow and spend the night at The Star Hotel,” he said, referring to the lodgings nearest the docks in Southampton. Having already made the plans, he was relieved that Elizabeth insisted he go. Although he knew David could manage on his own, he also knew there was another whose comfort would be a consideration. He was about to mention him when Elizabeth’s eyes once again rounded.
“You said ‘they’,” she accused. “Has he gone and done what Lord James did?” she asked as her eyes rounded. Her best friend’s son had married one of Sultan Ziyaeddin’s daughters three year’s prior, shortly before her best friend, Charlotte, Dowager Duchess of Chichester, had agreed to marry the sultan.
“He has not,” George assured her. “That is, if you meant has he taken a wife,” he added. “However, he is bringing one of the sultan’s sons with him. The Emir Ertugrul Effendi,” he explained. “The one he befriended when he first arrived at that Aegean palace. When he and Lord James went off to rescue Charlotte from the pirates,” he added, not bothering to suppress a grin when he remembered how the event was described in David’s entertaining letter on the matter.
By the time David and James had arrived at the palace in pursuit of the kidnapped duchess, Ziyaeddin had already fallen in love with Charlotte. Although Charlotte claimed she didn’t know how she felt about Ziyaeddin and the matter of remaining in the Ottoman Empire, the boys knew she wouldn’t return to England. Given they were on their Grand Tour, they simply adapted to their new itinerary, remaining at the palace at the sultan’s invitation.
David’s interest in architecture and mosaics landed him a position of sorts with the sultan’s son, Ertugrul, who was in charge of the empire’s government buildings, and James met and married the sultan’s daughter before taking her on a wedding trip that was by all accounts still going on. The last George had heard, James was on an archaeological dig in Greece with Viscount Jasper Henley, his wife and toddler son at his side.
“This Ertugrul... isn’t he the same one David was going to bring with him last year?” Elizabeth asked.
“He is,” George replied. “It seems the sehzade still wishes to spend a Season here in London. Attend all the entertainments, although...” He allowed the sentence to trail off.
“What is it?”
George winced. “It’s my understanding that sultans of the Ottoman sort don’t usually marry. They have harems filled with concubines,” he said. He couldn’t help but notice how Elizabeth’s face took on a blush worthy of a new bride. Charlotte had apparently shared what she had learned of them in her letters to his wife. “Which has me wondering why the heir-apparent to Ziyaeddin the First wishes to spend a Season in London.”
Elizabeth considered his comment a moment. “Do you suppose he’s looking to add an English girl to his harem?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Arching his brows, George considered the query a moment before he said, “David would surely tell him how unlikely it would be for an English miss to agree to move to Constantinople and become a concubine,” he reasoned. “So... he’s probably coming on a diplomatic mission on behalf of the sultanate.”
“Makes sense,” Elizabeth agreed. “But surely Charlotte would have sent word...” She stopped when she noted George’s attention was once again directed toward the door. He held up a finger.
“What is it, Elkins?” he asked, acknowledging the servant who had been hovering near the study’s threshold for several seconds.
“A letter has arrived for Lady Bostwick,” Elkins replied. “It’s marked ‘urgent’.”
Elizabeth was at the door and collecting the well-worn envelope before the butler could finish.
“It’s from Charlotte,” she said, recognizing the handwriting even before she popped the seal from the back. Thetughraembossed in the dark red wax would have been her other clue, the symbol unique to the sultan. The battered parchment looked as if it had been trampled on its way from the Ottoman Empire. Unfolding the letter, she held it out and began to read aloud.
My Dearest Elizabeth,
I hope this letter finds you and your family well. My new situation, no longer so new I suppose, has me incandescent with joy nearly every day. Daughter Zehra is learning Turkish faster than I am, and Ahmet is... well, he’s still a baby and a boy. Having raised two with a doting father, I expect he will be no different. Zi treats both as if they are his only children, but then he is that way with the others that remain with us. Two more married this past year, and several are betrothed to marry in the next year or so. The rest remain in school or with tutors. Zi is very insistent they get the very best education possible.
Elizabeth glanced up from the letter to see that George had settled one hip on the edge of his desk, and his arms were crossed as he listened. “Ziyaeddin does sound like an attentive father,” she remarked.
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Which has me wondering which one of his sons he will choose as his heir.”
