Averill: Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 3) (3 page)

Averill backed
toward the doorway.

“The child’s with me,” Captain Tennison said
. “I’ll buy what he selects.”

“In that case, boy, you can enter, but watch what you touch.”

Averill looked down at her feet, wishing she had the pride to stalk off. Instead, she walked in, and Tenny and the shopkeeper ceased to exist. Her eyes were filled with all manner of delights. She saw canvasses of purest white. Some were woven so tightly, she couldn’t see the texture. There were so many sizes and types of handmade brushes she didn’t know how to choose, and the paints! She’d never seen paints in collapsible tubes before. She hadn’t known they came that way.

“How much am I to spend?” she whispered, daring a glance up at the Captain.

He smiled, and her eyes darted away.

“I’ll buy what you like
. You can paint whatever takes your fancy – animals, scenery. Buildings.”  He shrugged. “You decide.”

Averill clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling
.
Is this really happening to me? This morning I woke up hungry and had to avoid camel dung outside Sen-Bib’s booth when I went out to relieve myself. And now, I can buy whatever I like? Is this truly the same day?

“I can’t decide,” she whispered finally.

“Is there anything you’d recommend for an artist?”  Captain Tennison asked the shopkeeper.

“This boy paints?” 

The man hooted with laughter. She turned away.

“I’ll spend my coin at the shop next to the basket weaver,” Captain Tennison said sharply
. “Good day.”

The shopkeeper
’s laughter cut off and Averill swiveled her head in surprise. No one had ever stood up for her before. It was truly a day of wonders.

They left the shop much later. Captain Tennison stowed her purchases in his saddlebags, mumbling about a large canvas she couldn’t resist. She had eleven smaller ones, too. Perhaps a camel bag could be made to fit the big one. She couldn’t wait to begin. She also had brushes of every imaginable size. There was solvent for cleaning them, and colors of all descriptions. The blending possibilities stunned her.

“Come along, then,” Captain Tennison said
. “And don’t you dare think of leaving me. What would I do with all this stuff?”

She ran to him and put
a hand on his arm as she looked up at him. It didn’t help that she came only to his shoulder, but she didn’t want to appear ungrateful. She smiled.

“
I won’t leave. I’ll follow you, Captain Tennison. I thank you.”

His eyes weren’t as dark as she thought
. They were light brown and shadowed by thick lashes. Perhaps that was what had made them seem darker against his tan.

Strange things were happening to her skin as she continued to touch his jacket sleeve
. She watched the gooseflesh form on her arm as he cleared his throat. When she lifted her fingers, they didn’t feel like her own, and Averill frowned.

CHAPTER THREE

He lived in a
two-story sandstone building. Averill cautiously followed him in, her feet feeling chilled by the tiles on the floor.

“Harvey!”

A man stepped out from another room. “Sir, you’ve got a thief following you! A street urchin!” 

He waved his arms and Averill ducked behind the captain.

“Stop that, Harvey. This is Averill. I’d like a bath for the child immediately.”

A bath
? Oh no. No. She couldn’t bathe! They’d see, and then they’d know she was no boy! She turned to run, but hands gripped her upper arms and hauled her around to face Captain Tennison. Then he lifted her feet from the ground to bring her face close to his.

“You wouldn’t leave me now, would you?” he asked in Arabic.

“I...I....”  Averill swallowed.

“I’ll buy you more clothing while you bathe
. Harvey won’t bother you. I swear it. You’re safe here. That’s why you’re here. Understand?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll explain later. After you bathe. But you will bathe. Or I’ll stay and force it. You understand that?”

She nodded
.

H
e set her back down. Averill couldn’t control her shaking. She couldn’t tell how angry he was.

“Have I your word?”

She nodded again.

“Good.”

He turned to Harvey, who’d listened to the exchange but looked like he hadn’t understood a word.

“The street child will bathe, Harvey, so we don’t have to contend with fleas.”

“He’s staying, then?”  Harvey looked at her for a fraction of time before turning back to the captain. “Very good, sir.”

Averill watched Captain Tennison anxiously
. After all he’d bought her, and giving her the chance to escape Sen-Bib, she almost ran away from him. And after she’d already given her promise.

“I’m sorry, Captain Tennison.”  She whispered the words as he set her large canvas against a wall.

“Then do as I tell you. Have you eaten this morning?”

Eat in the morning
?
He was so ignorant
. She shook her head.

“Prepare a light luncheon while I’m gone, Harvey.”

“Will that be before or after the bath, sir?”

Harvey looked at Averill as if she were something that needed to be swept into a dustbin and discarded.

“After.” 

And then
Captain Tennison grinned at her. Averill’s eyes went wide and she quickly looked away. What was the matter with her?

She was still watching the spot on the tile when Harvey told her the bath was ready
. Averill followed him up a narrow staircase to a small room, where a large, barrel object sat, full of warmed water. Harvey shut the door behind him. Averill checked if it could be locked and wasn’t surprised to find none. But if she hurried, she wouldn’t need a lock.

She tossed off her clothing and stepped into the water, immersing herself before surfacing again
. A bar of scented soap lay beside the tub, and she giggled as she lathered her head and then the rest of her. No one at the mission would believe this. Baths were taken one after the other until the water stank and was cold, and there was never enough soap.

She dried
herself on a fluffy towel she found beside the tub, then wrapped it about her. It felt luxurious. She opened a small, shuttered window and looked out onto the street, shielding her eyes from the glare
.
It didn’t seem possible. Just that morning, she’d been out there, running from the soldiers, and now she was safe. Warm. Bathed. And assigned to paint as much as she liked, with wondrous paints and brushes.

Captain Tennison
was very generous to street boys.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears and tightened the towel around herself
. Perhaps she should ask for a comb. It was a long time since she’d washed and groomed her hair properly. She’d tried not to care. Thin strips of it touched her shoulders, where once it had reached to her waist, thick, blue-black and very straight.

Averill shook her head
. Such memories would start her reminiscing. And that was something she refused to do.

She saw Captain Tennison round a corner, his horse burdened with all sorts of packages
. Averill gasped and her eyes widened. She spun to place her back against the wall.
He wouldn’t buy so much for a street child, would he?
Then she had a terrible thought. Captain Tennison might be the type who preferred boys! Her hand crept to her throat. She was in terrible danger.

She
checked for her clothes, only to find them gone. Harvey must’ve taken them while she stared out the window. She yanked off the towel and pulled on one of the captain’s satin robes, nervously knotting the tie about her waist.

No
. This wouldn’t do at all. It clung, outlining her easily. She’d never be safe on the streets. She twisted the knot loose. She couldn’t escape back to Sen-Bib wearing only a towel or robe that fit like this one did.

“Averill, are you finished?”

There was a knock at the door, and her heart sank. She was out of time.

“No!”  She wrapped herself in the towel
and then put the robe over it. It was bulky, but concealing.

“Come on out and see what I bought for you,” Captain Tennison said, “or I’ll come in
there and get you.”

She opened the door a crack
. He sat by a huge screen and smiled at her before lifting a glass of dark liquid to his mouth.

“Come out
. Let me get a look at you.” 

He winked, and her hands balled into fists
. She shut the door again and leaned against it, taking as many calming breaths as she could and remain conscious.
He does like boys!

“
I’m waiting.”

She set her shoulders, turned, opened the door and walked into the room
. After one look, he burst out laughing. Her eyes widened further.

“Forgive my amusement
. I was wondering what you’d arrange for cover. But even I failed to imagine that.”

“Where are the clothes?” she asked in a tight voice
.

“On the bed.” 

He motioned and Averill gasped at the sight. He’d spread out a wardrobe consisting mainly of cloak-like wrappings called saris, long gowns, and women’s slippers.

“Th
at...is women’s clothing.” 

“Yes, I know
. You can stop pretending now. I know a woman when I see one, even if everyone else is blind.”

Tears filled her eyes
—again, and she’d sworn never to cry again. She wouldn’t be able to go with him now that he knew. “Give me back...my own things.”  She sniffed.

“Why are you crying?”

He was beside her, and she didn’t want him that close. She backed from him, but he followed.

“I...I can’t go with you now.”

“Of course you can. You have great talents. That’s why I hired you. Your gender is inconsequential. Truly. Tell you what. I’ll leave you to dress. When you’re done, open the door. I’ll be waiting.”

He walked to the door, as Averill watched intently.

“Please don’t think of escaping,” he said. “I didn’t mount a rescue only to lose you. Your servant.”

He
bowed slightly. At her?

Averill’s mouth
gaped at the closing door. And then she moved rapidly to the clothing pile, grazing her hand across the fine material of a gown. Why would he buy such a thing for her? She never wore native dress. And never anything this nice. At the mission, she’d worn correct European attire. It was badly fitted, and hopelessly outdated, but it was still European.

She pulled a yellow
gown over her head and attached the belt. It barely clasped about her stomach, and she was small. She wondered if he bought the clothing at a children’s stall. And then she found a comb. Exactly as if he’d heard her musings!

She combed her hair with vicious efficiency, and then tucked it behind her ears
. The dress felt strange against her bare legs. She didn’t like how it clung to her thighs, either. She wrapped herself in the matching sari, crossing it about her breasts, and then she opened the door. She looked up at him, and then her glance skittered away.

She swallowed
. “I’m ready.”

Captain Tennison moved away from the wall where he’d been leaning
. “I see you are. Harvey, bring the luncheon.”

Captain Tennison sat down to a full plate, and Averill’s eyes widened.
He eats so much? In the middle of the day? It’s no wonder he’s so big.
She reached for a date three times before finally picking it up and nibbling on it.

“You’ve been starving yourself, haven’t you?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“
Or that character, Sen-Bib, took up the honor of starving you.”

She didn’t answer
. She didn’t know what he wanted to hear. The date was delicious, and so was the tea. Averill savored each flavor before swallowing.

“Where do you come from
? It is a puzzle, and I rather enjoy those. Just look. From the streets of Cairo, badly treated and starving, I find an immense talent,” he mused. “Five languages so far…and your painted pottery is without equal. I look forward to seeing what you can do with canvas.”

She smiled and lowered her head
.
So do I
, she thought.

“Then, there’s the other
…issue. Not only are you talented, but you’re also a beautifully exotic woman. Almost a bit too much so.”

She set the half-eaten date back on her plate with a trembling hand
. The sari was as bad as the robe would have been. It outlined her shape. She didn’t want to be thought beautiful. Or exotic.

“Don’t
fret, Averill. I’m thinking aloud. You’ve nothing to fear from me. I honestly want nothing more from you than beautiful pictures. Truly. Do you believe me? Come along, look at me.”

She lifted her eyes and shied away again
. She couldn’t look at him. It was dangerous and wicked. Her skin was telling her. Her lap was much safer to view.

He sighed heavily
. “You’re painfully young, aren’t you?”

Painfully?

“Living on the streets…yet not near as hard as you should be. Interesting. You’re camel fodder out there. You know that, don’t you?”

She didn’t answer that, either
.

“It’s the mixed lineage
. And your gender. I’m going to assume you’ve no parents? I don’t know why I ask. No Egyptian family would allow their daughter to live as you have. Am I right so far?”

She felt the censure of the words, although his voice didn’t change
. She nodded. “You’re not safe out there, Averill.”

“What do you care?”

“Good question. Without answer at present. I don’t know. All I know at the moment is that you’re safe…and I want to keep it that way. Is that enough?”

She shrugged.

“So, you’ll stay? And work for me? As we bargained?”

“But…you’re a man,” she replied.

He chuckled. “Oh. You noticed that, did you?”

She blushed
. And then she nodded.

“All right
. You have me, Averill. I’m definitely a man, but I’m also a gentleman. I’ve got standards. It’s an unspoken code, if you will. Do you understand that, as well?”

She nodded again
. She’d been dealing with that her entire life. Of course, she understood.

“I’m not interested in anything from you other than your talents
. Anything more would be unconscionable behavior on my part.”

She lifted her eyes and studied his face carefully
. He wasn’t that old, perhaps thirty. She didn’t find him particularly good-looking. He had classic European features, from his slicked-back brown hair to the light brown eyes looking into hers.

“Others may think differently of us
. Exactly as I intend. Do you follow?”

“No.”  She wrinkled her brow.

He stood, walked to a book cabinet, turned, and stared over her head. “I’m going to keep you with me. Close to me. I have to. It should be obvious, as I’ve already pointed out. You’re beautiful. You’re exotic. You’re desirable. And you’re vulnerable.”

“I don’t want to be any of those things!”

“I don’t exactly want it, either, but facts are facts. I’m leaving for Damascus. In two days. I need to keep you with me or release you back to the streets. And we both know it’s not safe out there.”

She
didn’t reply.

“
So. My decision? You’re going with me. And to do that, we’ll put on an act.”