Lady Emily's Exotic Journey Read Online Free Page A

she resist? He had a remarkably attractive smile. Mr. Oliphant, she noticed, did not sit beside Julia, but he did stand where he could look at her without appearing to stare. Clever.
    After watching to make certain that the servants closed the door, Sir Henry turned to Emily’s father. “Shouldn’t take too long now. The grand vizier will know you have the sultan’s approval, and he’ll send over the firman with no delay.”
    â€œIs a firman a who or a what?” asked Emily.
    Sir Henry looked at her in annoyed surprise, which annoyed her in turn. Did he think she was unable to speak? Or simply too deaf to have heard him speak? She noticed M. Chambertin’s mouth twitching to suppress a grin.
    â€œYes,” said Lady Penworth. “What is a firman?”
    Since he could not ignore Papa’s wife, Sir Henry huffed, but resigned himself to being asked questions by women and adopted a tolerant tone. “It’s an order issued by the sultan, or rather, by the grand vizier in the sultan’s name. In this case it will give you permission to travel through Mesopotamia and will require all his subjects to give you any assistance you request.”
    â€œHow very convenient,” said Lady Penworth. “Does it actually work?”
    Chambertin’s grin could no longer be restrained. “It works quite well in theory. In practice…” He shrugged. “In practice, it depends on how far away the sultan’s troops are.”
    â€œTrue enough,” Sir Henry said. “That’s why Oliphant here will be finding you a reliable kavass , an official courier, and he’ll make sure he has some troopers with him. That’s to make people pay attention to the firman.”
    â€œAre you truly determined to make this trip, Lady Penworth?” Lady Bulwer frowned and pursed her lips in distress. “We could make you quite comfortable here at the embassy, and you can avoid almost all contact with those nasty natives. One can go for weeks without seeing any of them. Except for the servants, of course.”
    â€œThank you, but I have no desire to avoid the inhabitants of a country where I am a visitor.”
    Lady Bulwer did not seem to notice the icy tone of her guest’s voice and continued. “The Turks are bad enough, but on your journey you will be forced to deal with Arabs. They are utter barbarians, all of them—dirty, filthy, and completely untrustworthy. You can never believe a word they say, even if you can find one who speaks English. And to expose innocent young ladies like your daughter and Lady Julia to such creatures—I can’t believe you have truly considered how distressing it will be.”
    There was an awkward silence, broken when Mr. Oliphant carefully put down his cup. “You will excuse me,” he said, and walked stiffly from the room.
    The door had scarcely closed behind him when Sir Henry turned on his wife and burst out, “Blast it, Matilda, can you never learn to keep your fool mouth closed? He’s a damned useful fellow, and we need him.”
    Shaken by this attack, she lifted a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t mean… I forgot…”
    The visitors all looked confused. Chambertin leaned over and murmured to Emily, “Oliphant’s mother is an Arab. I must go to him.”
    * * *
    Oliphant was staring out the window when Lucien came into his room. It was a quintessentially English room, Lucien thought. Tortoiseshell brushes on the dressing table, Dickens novels on a shelf— David Copperfield and Bleak House —and On the Origin of Species beside the bed. Nothing out of place, everything in shades of brown, a hard chair by the writing table, and doubtless cold water in the pitcher of washing water. A typical room offered by the British embassy to its British employees and to visitors. Ugly and uncomfortable. He was grateful that he was staying at the French embassy, where one could