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An Excerpt From: ADORA
Copyright © BERTRICE SMALL, 2007
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
The Convent of
St. Catherine in the city of Bursa
was a small one, but it was rich and distinguished. It had not always been
so, but the recent prosperity was due to the presence of one of the
sultan’s wives. Princess Theadora Cantacuzene of Byzantium
lived within the convent walls.
Theadora Cantacuzene was now
thirteen, and quite capable of childbearing. Sultan Orkhan,
however, was sixty-two and had a harem full of nubile females both innocent
and experienced. The little Christian virgin in the convent had only been a
political necessity after all. And so she remained there, forgotten by her
Ottoman husband.
Had he seen
her, however, even the jaded Orkhan could not
have ignored Theadora. She had grown tall and had
long, beautifully shaped arms and legs, a slender torso, firm, high,
cone-shaped breasts with long pink nipples, and a beautiful heart-shaped
face. Her skin was like smooth cream, for although she enjoyed the
outdoors, she never tanned. Her dark mahogany-colored hair with its golden
lights hung straight down her back to just above the soft swell of her
sweetly rounded buttocks. The violet eyes were startlingly clear, and as
candid as they had always been. Her nose was small and straight, her mouth
lush with a full lower lip.
Within the
convent grounds, she had her own house consisting of an antechamber for
receiving guests—though none came—a dining room, a kitchen, two
bedchambers, a bath, and servants’ quarters. Here she lived in isolated semisplendor—lacking nothing. She was well-fed,
well-guarded, and very bored. She was rarely allowed to leave the convent
grounds and when she did she was heavily veiled and escorted by at least
half a dozen sturdy nuns.
In the summer
of Theadora’s thirteenth year her life changed
suddenly. It was a hot midafternoon, and all the
servants lay dozing in the sticky heat. Theadora
was alone, for even the nuns slept as she wandered the deserted, walled
convent garden. Suddenly a small breeze brought to her the scent of peaches
ripening in one of the convent orchards, but the door to the orchard garden
was locked. Theadora was annoyed, and as her
desire for a peach became overwhelming she looked for another means of
entry into the orchard, and she found it.
Where the
garden wall met the orchard wall along the street side of the convent
property, there was a thick gnarled vine. Tucking up her simple lime green
cotton tunic dress Theadora clambered up the vine
to the top. Then, chuckling gleefully to herself, she walked carefully
along the wall looking for a similar vine so she might get down into the
orchard. Finding it, she descended, picked several of the plumpest fruits,
and put them in her pockets. Then she climbed back up to the top of the
wall.
The wall,
however, was old, and worn away in several places.
Its only traffic for many years had been the cats of the city who
frequently courted the privacy of the convent gardens. Flushed with her
success, Theadora did not watch her footing and
suddenly she found herself falling. But, to her surprise, she did not hit
the ground. Instead, she fell—shrieking—into the strong arms of a laughing
young man.
The arms
cradled her, gently but firmly, and seemed in no hurry to release her.
Jet-black eyes looked her over thoroughly, admiringly. “Are you a thief? Or
merely a naughty little nun?” he asked.
“Neither.” She
was amazed to find she still had a voice. “Please put me down, sir.”
“Not until I
learn your identity, violet eyes. You are not veiled, so you cannot be
Turkish. Who are you?”
Theadora had never been this close to a man other than
her father. It was not unpleasant. The man’s chest was hard, somehow
reassuring, and he smelled of sunshine.
“Have you lost
your tongue, little one?” he queried softly.
She blushed
and bit her lip in vexation. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew
what she had been thinking. “I am a student at the convent,” she said.
“Please, sir, would you help me back up onto the wall? If they find me
gone, I shall be scolded.”
Setting her
down, he quickly climbed onto the wall. Leaning over, he pulled her up onto
the wall. Then, leaping lightly into the convent garden, he held out his
arms to her. “Jump, violet eyes.” He caught her easily and set her on her
feet. “Now you won’t be scolded,” he chuckled. “What on earth made you
climb the wall?”
Feeling more
secure now, she looked up at him mischievously. Reaching into a pocket of
her tunic dress, Theadora drew out a peach. “I
wanted one,” she said simply, biting into it. The juice ran down her chin.
“The gate was locked, so I climbed the wall.”
“Do you always
get what you want?”
“Yes, but I do
not usually want very much,” she answered.
He laughed.
“My name is Murad. What’s yours?”
“Theadora.”
“Too formal. I
shall call you Adora, for you’re a most adorable
creature.”
She blushed, then gasped in surprise as he bent and kissed her. “Oh!
How dare you, sir? You must not do that again! I am a married
woman.”
The black eyes
twinkled. “Yet, Adora, I will wager that was your
first kiss.” She flushed again and tried to turn away from him, but he
gently caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “And,” he continued,
“I will also wager that you’re wed to an old man. No young man with blood
in his veins would leave you languishing in a convent. You are quite
outrageously fair.”
She raised her
eyes to him, and he saw with amazement that in the sunlight they shone an
amethyst color. “It is true that I have not seen my husband for several
years, but you must not speak thusly to me. He is a good man. Please go
now, sir. If you were caught here, it would not go well for you.”
He made no
move to leave. “Tomorrow night begins the week of the full moon. I shall
wait for you.
in the orchard.”
“I will
certainly not come!”
“Are you
afraid of me, Adora?” he taunted.
“No!”
“Then prove
it—and come.” Reaching out he caught her to him, kissing her slowly with a
gentle, controlled passion. For the briefest moment she yielded to him, and
all the things she and her classmates had discussed with regard to kissing
flashed through her mind, and she realized that they knew nothing of the
truth. This was sweetness beyond belief, ecstasy beyond her wildest
imaginings, and honeyed fire poured through her loins, making her weak.
Releasing her
mouth, he held her gently to him Their eyes met for a moment in a strange
understanding. Then, suddenly terrified by her response to him, Theadora tore herself free and fled down the neat
gravel path. His mocking laughter followed her. She heard his voice.
“Tomorrow, Adora.”
Gaining the
sanctuary first of her house, and then of her bedchamber, she collapsed on
her bed, trembling violently, ignoring the peaches that spilled from her
pockets and bumped across the floor.
She had not
known that a kiss could be so—she sought for the right word—so powerful! So
intimate! That was certainly what it had been. Intimate! An invasion of her
person. And yet—a little smile played about her lips—and yet she had liked
it.
Murad had been correct in assuming that she had never
been kissed. In fact, Theadora knew nothing of
what happened between a man and a woman for she had spent all but four
years of her young life behind convent walls. When she had been married Zoe had wisely refrained from discussing the duties of
the marriage bed with a child years away from puberty. Consequently, the
sultan’s youngest wife was a total innocent.
Now she
wondered about the handsome young man whose strong arms had saved her from
serious injury. Tall and tanned, she knew he was as fair as she, for where
his black hair had been newly cropped, his skin was quite light. His jet
dark eyes had been caressingly, even boldly, warm; his smile, which had
revealed straight white teeth, very impudent.
Of course she
would not see him again. It was simply unthinkable. Still, she wondered if
he really would come tomorrow night. Would he actually be bold enough to
climb the convent’s orchard wall again?
There was only
one way to find out. She must hide herself in the orchard before dark and
watch. When he came—if he came—she would not, of course, reveal herself. She would remain hidden until he left. But at
least her curiosity would be satisfied.
She giggled, imagining his chagrin. He obviously thought
himself quite irresistible if he expected a respectable girl to sneak out
and meet him. He would soon learn differently.
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