Taming Charlotte by Linda Lael Miller Page A

other side.
    Later, in a quiet corner of the
hamam,
she wrote a long letter, full of lies, and addressed it to her family.

5

    C HARLOTTE SENSED A DISTURBING UNDERCURRENT OF TEN sion in the harem, even though the other women seemed unconcerned that Alev was about to give birth. They went on laughing and bathing and reading and eating chocolates and sweetmeats, just as if it were an ordinary day.
    When Rashad came out of the
sultana valide’s
apartments, Charlotte was waiting for him. “How is Alev?” she asked.
    The eunuch sighed. “This will be a difficult day for her,” he said, in his formal way. “But if she gives the sultan a son, she will surely become a
kadin. “
    Charlotte gnawed at her lower lip, a quiet anger bubbling within her—an anger toward a system that reduced women to the status of pretty dolls, or brood mares. “And if she gives the sultan a daughter?”
    Rashad’s dark eyes reflected understanding as well as a gentle warning. “Female children stay with their mothers while they’re small, and if they’re bright, they often go away to school. A sultan’s daughters are princesses, after all.”
    A loud cry sounded from within the
sultana valide’s
quarters, and Charlotte shuddered to think what it would belike to be at that old woman’s mercy, particularly during childbirth. “I want to go to Alev,” she said, starting to go around Rashad. “I could help—”
    The eunuch stopped her by gripping her arm. While his grasp wasn’t painful, she could not have escaped it by her own strength. “The sultana will not tolerate your interference,” he said. “It is dangerous to flout her wishes.”
    Charlotte felt both desperation and fury as she heard Alev scream again. “I don’t care!” she spat, trying to pull away.
    Rashad would not release her. Indeed, his round, mahogany face set, he double-stepped Charlotte through the
hamam
and then past the baths. Beyond the marble and tile pools was a line of doors, and it was to one of those chambers that the eunuch took his captive.
    He turned a latch and thrust Charlotte into a sumptuously furnished cell, containing a pallet covered in red velvet, an unlighted brazier, a large bowl of tropical fruit, and a carafe of water. Overhead, a huge window let in the light of day.
    Charlotte was too frightened to take in more than the most cursory details, however. She stared at Rashad, overwhelmed.
    “I will not hurt you,” he said, in his authoritative voice. She found her tongue. “Then let me out of this—this fancy jail!”
    The eunuch executed a slight bow. “Of course,” he agreed. “As soon as Alev has given birth, and you have calmed yourself, you will be free to join the others.”
    “Free,” Charlotte mocked, folding her arms and beginning to pace. “I’m a prisoner in this place—a bird in a fancy cage—and I don’t know why no one will admit it!”
    Rashad surprised her with a deep, resonate chuckle. “You are a very rebellious bird,” he observed, “and you’d better learn to behave before the
sultana valide
has your feathers plucked.”
    Heat pooled in Charlotte’s cheeks. “That old woman has no authority over me!”
    “This is not America,” Rashad pointed out, his expression serious now. “You have no rights here. And the
sultana valide
has every authority!”
    Charlotte swallowed. If she ever wished for an adventureagain, she thought miserably, she hoped she’d be struck by lightning. Assuming she survived this particular exploit, of course. “I want to go home,” she said, after a long moment, her voice small and tremulous.
    An expression of sadness moved in Rashad’s features. “So do I,” he replied hopelessly. “But I will never see my own country again, and neither will you.”
    With that, he went out, closing and locking the door behind him.
    Charlotte rushed about the small chamber in a burst of panic, then forced herself to calm down and sank to her knees on the pallet. She thought with longing of