His Wicked Embrace novel Chapter 27

"I see," Lawrence continued. "Well, Horatia and Audrey here are sisters. And then there's Ashton, Baron Lennox." Zehra followed Lawrence's nod to a tall blond-haired man with intense blue eyes who inclined his head. "And this fellow here is Jonathan St. Laurent, Godric's half-brother." Zehra saw that the handsome sandy-haired man shared the same green eyes as his brother.

"Saving the best for last, I see?" a golden-haired man with silvery-gray eyes said with a roguish wink at Zehra.

"Saving the most disreputable, certainly," Lawrence retorted with a smile. "That is Charles, the Earl of Lonsdale."

Zehra's head was spinning from all the introductions. The ladies gently extricated her from Lawrence's arm and pulled her away from the intimidating group of men.

"Come now," said Emily. "The women would have their time with you."

"Zehra, what a lovely name," Horatia said. Her brown eyes were warm and soft.

"Thank you," Zehra stammered.

"Is it Persian?" Emily asked.

"Yes, how did you know?" Zehra was stunned to find someone here who recognized the origins of her name.

Emily giggled. "We are all voracious readers. I was quite intrigued by the history of Persia a few months ago. Where are you from, exactly, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Just south of Shiraz."

"Ah, of course." Emily nodded. "Lovely gardens, I understand."

"Yes, I was telling Lawrence only yesterday about the gardens and how we make rosewater."

"You make absolutely the finest rosewater perfume," Audrey added. Her cherubic face seemed full of innocence, but Zehra didn't miss the intelligence that flashed behind her eyes.

"We do," she agreed. She looked over her shoulder at the men, who were now talking amongst themselves and no longer paying attention to the ladies.

"Zehra... Do you mind if I call you Zehra?" Emily asked.

"Not at all, Your Grace. Is that the correct way to address you?"

"It is, but please, it's Emily among friends," she insisted. "We ladies are quite good at discovering things, and it came to Horatia's attention that there must be something important about you, considering Lawrence made his request to host a private dance for your benefit."

Zehra didn't speak. She wasn't quite sure what Emily was hoping she would say.

"What she means," Horatia cut in, "is that you clearly are not some...mistress of Lawrence's. He would never ask that of me unless...unless there was something special about you."

"Special?" Zehra shook her head. "I'm afraid I am not special. Far from it. I..." She wasn't quite sure what brought on the flood of tears, but she was now frantically wiping her eyes. Perhaps it had been too long since she'd been around women her age in a casual and free setting and not on a slave ship.

Emily put an arm around her shoulders, and the lady ushered her to sit down on a couch. "Oh dear. I'm so sorry if I have offended."

"What can we do?" Audrey asked.

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be crying. Truly, you have done nothing to offend." Zehra soon found herself telling the ladies everything that had happened, from the moment of terror the night the palace was attacked, to the audacious way in which Lawrence had rescued her and brought her here.

"You really are a Persian princess?" Emily placed a hand over heart. "Oh my, you truly are special." The compliment made Zehra blush.

"Yes, my father was a ruler in his area of Shiraz. It's why he was killed. Al-Zahrani wanted my father's power, and he wanted me for his bed."

All three ladies winced, and Horatia scowled.

"Have you not told Lawrence about this Al-Zahrani fellow?" Audrey asked.