“She found Ceyden’s body and may have even witnessed the murder. Think on it—if she was the one trying to escape, with her lover, and Ceyden happened upon them. Ceyden, who wanted more than anything to gain the sultan’s attention?”

“So do we confront Roxelana?”

“I’d wager she knows where he is,” I said. “That’s why she’s so keen to make her escape right away. She wouldn’t be doing it if she had nowhere to go. What a fool I’ve been!”

“I thought you were going to send her to London?”

“I was. I told her I’d help her in any way I could, assuming that she had no other options.”

“So you think Benjamin is somewhere, skulking about, waiting for her?” Margaret asked.

“It wouldn’t surprise me.” For an instant, I was horrified by my thoughts, because I realized that more than a small part of me was hoping they could pull it off. Escape. Find happiness together. Had my moral compass gone completely wild? We’d reached the sitting room in the harem. Roxelana came through the door only a few minutes later and sank next to me on a settee.

“I did not expect to see you until—” Her skin had lost its glow, her eyes were dull. “Is something wrong?”

“There are many things wrong,” I said. “I need you to start being honest with me. You were the one meeting an Englishman in the harem. Benjamin.”

“I—I—”

“Spare me denials. I have a great deal of sympathy for you, but I cannot tolerate deception. You have misled me at every turn and in doing so may have destroyed Benjamin’s chance at exoneration.”

“Please, Lady Emily.” She had started to cry. “I will tell you anything—”

“Yes, you will,” I said. “Starting with Ceyden and her cache of jewelry. Where did she get it?”

Roxelana was crying too hard to answer.

“You must stop,” Margaret said, passing her a handkerchief. “You’ll draw attention to yourself.”

“You’re right.” One last sob spilled out of her as she dried her eyes. “The jewelry was mine. All of it, so far as I can tell. I saved every piece I got—much of it was given to me by the sultan. Ceyden hated that he favored me. She used to follow me, torment me. Thought it was unfair that he would choose me when I didn’t want him.”

“She was jealous,” I said.

“Terribly,” she said. “When I met Benjamin, the world opened before me. I never lived before the day he pulled me from the waters of the Bosphorus. He paid Jemal to deliver letters to me, and when we could stand that no longer, he paid more for Jemal to sneak him into the palace so we could see each other.”

“And Ceyden discovered this?”

“Yes. I caught her in my room. She told me a pretty story about coming to me for advice—flattered me. I fell for it until later that night when I realized all the letters Benjamin had written me were gone.”

“She took them?”

“Yes, and she admitted it when I confronted her. Said she’d given them to a friend who would hold them for her, someone who wasn’t in the palace. That she would use them against me.”

“But the jewelry?” I asked. “You were planning to use it to finance your escape?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get Perestu’s ring?”

“I had nothing of Perestu’s.”

“It was a large sapphire in a round bezel encrusted with diamonds.”

“I do remember it. Jemal gave it to me. He told me it had been a gift to him from a friend.”

This gave me pause, but I could not stop to think. “Why would Ceyden take your jewelry? I’d think she wouldn’t do something to hinder you.”

“She stole it the day I was planning to leave,” Roxelana said. “I’d sewn everything into a gown—that’s what you found—thinking I could wear it and arouse no suspicion. But when I went to get dressed that evening, it was gone. I was in tears when I went to meet Benjamin, unsure if we’d be able to carry out our plan. She followed me that night, stood in the shadows as we spoke. We didn’t know how we could go without the jewels, and that’s what she counted on. She stepped forward and laughed at us. Said that she’d taken them in case I slipped out too easily—she didn’t want to miss her opportunity to catch us in the act. And then she started to call for a guard...”

“And Benjamin stopped her,” I said, a terrible weight descending onto me.

“Yes.” Her voice hid her sob. “He was afraid that if we were caught together, I would be executed. He panicked.”

“What happened then?”

“He—he lunged at her throat and strangled her. She fell to the ground, and I told him to run, which he did. Once I thought enough time had passed for him to be well away, I went for the guards. She wasn’t dead then, you know. She spoke to me after he left—” Now her tears could not be stopped.

“What did she say?” I asked.

“That the sultan would never want me again. She must have died when I was on my way to get help.” She held her head up high. “I suppose you won’t help me now.”

“What of your Aquinas?” I asked.

“ ‘Love takes up where knowledge leaves off,’ ” she said.

I met her eyes. “I gave you my word. This is all unspeakably awful, but does not change the fact that I don’t agree with the way you are being forced to live. Our plans will not change.” What I did not say was that I could not abandon her because I feared what might happen should she still be in the harem when the full truth of the situation was revealed.


When we’d returned to the yalı, Margaret went straight for the decanter and filled two glasses with port. Before she’d crossed the room to hand me one, Meg came in with a small envelope.

“A wire for you, madam.”

My stomach clenched, fearing bad news from England, but the words surprised me less than their author would have expected. I looked up, meeting Margaret’s eyes, reading her concern. “No, it’s not Ivy,” I said. “It’s from Colin. He’s found Benjamin at Ephesus.”

“That’s wonderful,” Margaret said. “More or less.”

“He’s made a full confession. He admitted to killing his sister. They’ll be in Constantinople within three days, sooner if he can hire a boat.” I felt ill. “We must go to his father. I don’t want someone from the embassy breaking this news.”


Of all the unpleasant trips I’d taken across the Bosphorus in the past weeks, this was by far the worst. I looked at Seraglio Point, far off in the distance, hazy in the sun, and rehearsed what I would say, knowing there was no magic to it, no particular set of words that would lessen the blow. Margaret took my hand in hers.

“I never thought this trip could have turned out so badly,” she said, a forced brightness in her voice. “Do you think, perhaps, it’s a sign that I’m to marry Mr. Michaels as quickly as possible and settle into an ordinary life?”

“You’re beginning to worry me,” I said. “That’s at least the second time you’ve made such a comment.”

“Do you ever wonder if we’re too set on being independent and fierce?”

“Are you joking? Is this meant to distract me?”

“Well, yes, it’s meant to distract,” she said.

“But not to be a joke?”

“No.” Now her gaze moved in the direction of Seraglio Point. “Forgive me, Emily. Are you happy? I know you adore Colin and don’t doubt for an instant that you have found the man for whom you were designed. But this is your wedding trip... It’s bad enough that I invaded your privacy—and I hope you’ll forgive me for that—”

“Don’t be absurd,” I said. “Honeymoons go on for months and months. Besides, haven’t you read Can You Forgive Her? Didn’t Glencora keep Alice close to her for most of her wedding trip?”

“An entirely different circumstance, my dear.”

“Quite.” I could not help but smile.

“I cannot help but consider things differently now,” Margaret said. “I wouldn’t want my honeymoon interrupted as yours has been—”

“No one wants to contend with murder.”

“Obviously. But you do enjoy it, Em—not the murder part, but the rest. You’ve gotten to cavort about Constantinople with more freedom than anyone since Lady Mary What’s-her-name. Some days I think you thrive on it, but lately it seems to be taking a toll.”

“I’m just worried about Ivy. It’s nothing else. This is how I want my life to be, Margaret. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want to do this work. It’s important to me.”

“I’m afraid I’m becoming a hopeless romantic,” she said. “It’s rather disgusting.”

“You really do want to hole up at Oxford, don’t you?”

“I think I do,” she said.

“You don’t think it will become claustrophobic?”

“No. Have you any idea how much Ovid I have left to translate? And then there’s Virgil. That is the work I need. This trip has made me realize that I want Mr. Michaels by my side all the time. Gallivanting about isn’t much fun without him.”

“I would hope not,” I said. “Otherwise what would be the point in marrying him? I miss Colin dreadfully every moment I’m not with him.” As we came closer to the European shore, Topkapı looming above us until we’d passed it after turning into the Golden Horn, my nerves took firm hold of me, my heart pounding in my chest. From the dock, it did not take long to reach Sir Richard’s—we took a carriage, wanting to get to him as quickly as possible.

Miss Evans greeted us at the door. “He’s feeling much better today,” she said. “Has been receiving visitors. Even came downstairs.”

“Did he?”

“For a while,” she said. “But he started to get tired and went back up. Still, an improvement.”

“I fear that we’ll only make it worse.” I left Margaret to explain to her and found my way to Sir Richard, propped up in bed on a mountain of pillows, a copy of Jules Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon beside him.