He had not the gold he would need to pay the physician, but he knew that the rich infidel widow did. Jamil waited a few weeks until the days grew shorter with the approach of the winter season and the evenings came early. He arranged for the lady Claire's palanquin to be set upon as it passed through a particularly dark, deserted area. Then he and a small troupe of mounted Janissaries arrived to beat off the attackers. When the tumult had died down, he presented his compliments to the lady and personally escorted her to her house, begging permission to call again. Claire had said that she would think on it, but by the time his gift, a carved lavender jade bracelet wrapped in a handkerchief of cloth of gold, arrived the next afternoon Claire had ascertained who her rescuer had been, and whether he could be of use to her. He could, and consequently Capitan Jamil was invited to take coffee with her.
The relationship had quickly blossomed. Jamil was genuinely intrigued by Claire's blond beauty as well as her vast wealth; and Claire for the first time since her brother, Dom, had died, loved another human being. Strangely, he had been able to consummate their relationship the first time he attempted to do so, but he had been quite honest with regard to his situation. Eventually he had told her of the doctor in Istanbul who could cure him. Her revenge against the Burkes had been successful, and she was in love. She begged her lover to let her foot the expenses to the capital for them both so he might be cured. Jamil refused. Claire persisted. He refused again, but now she would not be denied, and finally he gracefully gave in to her pleas.
It was while they were in Istanbul that she learned of his previous involvement with Skye O'Malley. Jamil did not know then that Skye Muna el Khalid was Skye O'Malley; but Claire knew. How strange, she thought, that she was so passionately in love with the very man whom her bitterest enemy had scorned, and almost destroyed by turning him into a partial eunuch. She would settle with Skye O'Malley once she and Jamil were married. She would destroy Skye's own shipping interests by using the corsair Reises who would be under her husband's command once the Sultan appointed Jamil the new Dey. For now, however, she was delighted that the famous physician who treated Jamil had been successful. Her lover had regained his full potency, and was a veritable bull in their bedchamber.
Before they departed Istanbul for their return to Algiers, he proposed marriage, as she had known he would. She blushingly accepted, despite the fact that he warned her he would want, nay, he would keep a harem. Claire, now the lady Nilak, cared nothing for the others he might bed as long as he loved her, and she was his wife with the power a Dey's wife had. Jamil smiled at her honest admission thinking that they were really quite suited, and agreed that their marriage would take place in the month of Shawwal following the fast month of Ramadan.
Ramadan was now half over, and Claire was feeling quite pleased with herself at having discovered a Skye look-alike. How happy Jamil would be, and she, Claire, would insist on paying Osman's nephew whatever he wanted for the slave girl. It would be one of her bridal gifts to her beloved Jamil.
Arriving at her home, she hurried to find Jamil. He was being vigorously massaged by two young black girls, but as she entered the room he sat up smiling at her, his arms outstretched. Claire flew into them, and was rewarded with a kiss; a kiss that flamed into quick desire for both of them. "Get out!" Claire hissed at the two slaves, and they fled. Jamil didn't even wait for the door to close behind them before he was pulling her clothing off and drawing her down onto the couch with him. Being already hard, he wasted no time on the preliminaries and, parting her thighs, thrust into her with one smooth motion.
"Ahhh, Nilak, my love," he murmured, moving quickly on her, and Claire sighed with delight.
Afterward, as they lay together, he nibbling on her shoulder, she said excitedly, "I have just come from the house of Osman the astrologer, my darling, and what do you think I saw? A slave girl walking in the garden, the favorite of his nephew. She is a twin to Skye O'Malley! The same gardenia skin, the same marvelous black hair, and although I was not close enough to tell, I will wager the same blue eyes! I want to buy her from Osman's nephew for you."
"No," he said. "You must be mistaken. There could not be two women in the entire world who look like Skye Muna el Khalid."
"But she does, I tell you!" Claire insisted. "I know her as well as you do, Jamil. After all, she was married to my brother. This slave girl could be her twin!"
Jamil Agha sat up. "You are certain?" he said sharply.
"I am certain."
"Perhaps it is she, the beauteous Skye herself," he half whispered to himself. "Dear Allah, to have her in my power!"
"It cannot be Skye, Jamil. She grieves in Ireland for her dead husband, and besides, Osman knew her, too. How could Skye become the favorite of his nephew without him knowing it? This wench looks very like her, but she's much younger."
"Let us go to Osman's house now!" Jamil said eagerly. "It is almost sunset, and he is a hospitable man. I am sure I can get a look at the girl if the family is at the evening meal, and if she is all you say she is, then we will buy her then and there." He scrambled to his feet. "Help me to dress, Nilak, and then see that the slaves ready my horse."
As she aided her lover Claire began to grow uneasy. Perhaps she had made a mistake in mentioning the favorite of Osman's nephew, and her startling resemblance to Skye O'Malley. Jamil was far too eager, and what if this little upstart of a slave were to supplant her in her beloved's affections? Never! she reassured herself. Let Jamil sate his lusts on the girl. She, Nilak, would be his legal wife in just a short while, and then if the girl grew difficult she would simply disappear. Besides, Jamil would soon grow tired of her as he did of all women but Claire. She smiled to herself, and went to order Jamil's horse and her palanquin.
It was a simple but filling meal that was served in the house of Osman that night. A whole red-eyed mullet had been poached and was presented upon a bed of greens surrounded by lemons carved to represent seashells. A well-roasted capon stuffed with dried peaches, apricots, and plums sat on its platter of blue Fezware surrounded by matching bowls of saffroned rice and steamed artichokes. One enormous bowl of couscous had been placed midtable, and the marvelous scent of the wheat grains, the lamb chunks, and the many vegetables assaulted the senses of the four diners. An individual loaf of flat bread, warm from the ovens, was placed at each setting as were small kebobs of kid, green and red peppers, and small onions hot from the grill. There was a small bowl of yogurt at each place for dipping, and a large glass dish filled with green and black olives.
When the diners had done justice to the meal, and their profuse compliments had been sent to the cook who waited anxiously in the kitchen, the table was cleared of the main meal, and the fruits, large Seville oranges, dark purple grapes, golden pears, and fat green figs, were brought out, along with delicate gazelle horn pastries and bowls of pistachio nuts. A slave was handing around the delicate porcelain cups of black coffee when Jamil Agha boldly entered the room.
Osman almost swallowed whole the grape he had just popped into his mouth, and Alima gasped audibly. Jamil did not notice. His eyes were glued upon Skye, who was wondering what bad fairy had pushed Jamil back into her life on the very night she had planned her escape from Algiers. Skye knew that her only hope was in being Muna, the slave girl of the lord Kedar, and no one else. Then her eyes moved to the woman who mincingly accompanied Jamil, and she felt her anger well. Claire O’Flaherty! The cursed Claire!