“I wasn’t sure Ismail Hodja would have approved. He never liked me.”
“That’s not true,” I exclaimed.
“Anyway, I came by twice when your uncle wasn’t home, but Violet wouldn’t let me in.”
“What? Violet is my servant. She has no control over what I do or whom I see.”
“She told me you were unwilling to see anyone. I waited in the pavilion and called to you.” He pursed his lips and fluted a nightingale call. “But you didn’t come. I suppose Violet kept you occupied indoors when she suspected I was nearby. I don’t know what her motivations were. Maybe she’s in on the plot.”
Exasperated, I raised my voice. “What plot? If you were so concerned about me, why didn’t you meet me yourself at the pier instead of hiding inside the carriage like a thief? Or simply reveal yourself to me once we got in?”
I became agitated as I remembered the details of what I had experienced as yet another assault. “And why the chloroform? I presume that’s what you used.”
Hamza looked down, his long fingers toying with his tea glass.
“I can’t show myself. I’m wanted by the sultan’s spies for sedition,” he added hastily, glancing at me. “I was in Paris when I heard about what happened last year.”
I looked puzzled and he averted his eyes, turning toward the yellow light filtering through the leaves outside the window.
“With that pimp, Amin.” He realized with a jolt his unseemly language and looked at me, finally. His face was red. “Sorry. I’m very sorry.”
When I didn’t answer, he stumbled rapidly on.
“I heard about Amin’s plans for revenge and as soon as the roads were open, I started back. There’s nothing I can do to change what happened, but at least I can make sure you’re safe.”
“You shouldn’t have put yourself in danger by coming back.”
“I know Amin,” he responded fiercely. “You have no idea what he is capable of.”
“What is this plot from which you’re saving me?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “You should have told Papa or Ismail Dayi. What is the point of bringing me here? Everyone will be worried about me and think the worst. Have you considered the consequences?”
“I’m not worried. It’s worth the risk to see you are safe.”
“The consequences for me,” I almost shouted.
Grim-faced, Hamza explained, “Amin is a scoundrel who will stop at nothing.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that last year when my father first spoke of an engagement? Why didn’t you tell Papa then?”
Hamza gulped the tea from his glass in one draught and put it down on the saucer with such force that I jumped. I saw the old woman’s eyes skim nervously in our direction.
“I had to spend years in Paris because someone turned me in to the palace as a traitor. When I came back two years ago, it didn’t take long before I was being followed and harassed again. Do you think your father would listen to me? He despises me. He despises my ideas. He has befriended reactionaries in order to advance his own position. And I’m certain he is the one who reported me to the secret police, then and now.”
“I don’t believe that,” I countered with some heat. “Papa would never do that to his own nephew. You lived in our house, ate our bread.”
Hamza barked a short, bitter laugh and shrugged. “There’s a lot you don’t understand, princess.”
“That does me an injustice, Hamza. I know my father and I’m not entirely ignorant of what goes on at the palace. I know there are factions and intrigues. Perhaps Papa doesn’t share your views, but I’m certain that blood also counts. Papa is not always right in his actions, but at heart he is a good man. Who told you it was Papa who betrayed you?”
“I know it was him.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “Make your accusations, but if you care at all about the precious justice you are always going on about, then let me hear the evidence.”
“Your father was promoted to the position of counsellor in the Foreign Ministry just days before treason charges against me were sent from that office to the minister of justice. His friend Amin sponsored him for that position. Now that Amin has been disgraced and transferred, your father’s position is in danger too. Never take a criminal as your patron,” he spit out.
“Well, then we wouldn’t have many people left in government, would we? Papa was your patron,” I shot back.
Hamza looked disconcerted. This conversation clearly was not what he had expected.
“Your father doesn’t respect me,” he mumbled.
“Nonsense. You have no evidence that Papa did this. It could just as well have been Amin. He has no liking for you.” It occurred to me that Amin might have seen Hamza as a rival for my hand, but I didn’t mention this. I remembered the look on his face the evening Hamza greeted me at the soiree at our house. It would have been typical of Amin simply to have the hurdle forcibly removed, rather than attempt the more complex and time-consuming task of winning my affections.
“Possibly,” Hamza agreed reluctantly. “Someone turned me in after that evening at your house. I had to return to Paris or risk arrest.”
I wondered why Hamza was so angry with my father. Was it because Papa had wanted me to marry Amin? Then why had Hamza not stepped forward and offered marriage himself? I had not been formally engaged yet. As my cousin, Hamza had a right to my hand, regardless of what Papa thought of him. Surely he knew I would have agreed. I looked at him carefully. He was different somehow, aside from the beard, but I couldn’t pinpoint what disturbed me.
“Why did you attack me in the cab?”
He was taken aback. “I didn’t attack you, Jaanan. I would never do a thing like that.”
“You used chloroform! And what happened to Violet? You didn’t hurt her, did you?”
Hamza jumped to his feet. “Jaanan, how could you even imagine such things? I had to keep you from crying out or trying to escape when you saw that there was someone else in the cab. I couldn’t risk that you wouldn’t recognize me and cause a scene that would attract attention. The punishment for treason is death, Jaanan. I can’t afford to be noticed in even the smallest way. Violet is fine. She jumped from the cab and ran away. She’s back in the Nishantashou house.
“She’s very resourceful,” he added with a smile. “She attacked me to save you.”
It was the charming, self-deprecatory smile I remembered from Chamyeri. I couldn’t help but return it. A warm current joined us again. What I had perceived before was its absence.
“You still haven’t told me what you needed to rescue me from.”
Hamza sat back on the divan, moving our tea glasses to the tray on the floor. He took my hands, palms together, and pressed them between his hands.
“Amin is plotting to-” He stopped uncertainly, then continued in a low voice, “To damage you. I heard that as soon as you returned to your father’s house at Nishantashou, he planned to take you from there to his konak. Once you were seen to be living in Amin’s house, willingly or not, you would have to marry him.”
“Take me from my own house?” I scoffed. “How could he do that? No one would permit him entry. Has he bribed the servants?” I was so aghast I almost did not believe him.
“My sources tell me he has made an arrangement with your stepmother.
“I’m sorry,” he added rapidly, seeing the look on my face.
“Who are your sources? Are they reliable?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t treat me like a china cup,” I told him impatiently. “Tell me everything.”
“He’s in desperate circumstances. He already laid claim to you once. This would make it irrevocable. Not even Ismail Hodja or your father could avoid the shame if you didn’t marry him then.”
“He neither loves nor respects me. What does he want from me?”
“He gambles too much and has expensive taste in women. He’s deeply in debt. He desperately needs your wealth and he needs it soon.”