Adora Read Online Free PDF

bedroom by a window,then hurried along the gravel path toward the orchard. Her soft kid slippers made virtually no sound at all. The little key was clutched tightly in her damp palm.
    To her relief, the small door into the orchard opened noiselessly. Closing it carefully behind her, she leaned against it, eyes closed, weak with relief. She had made it!
    “You came!” The low, deep voice broke the stillness.
    Her eyes flew open. “Wh-what are you doing here?” she demanded, outraged.
    “Did we not agree yesterday to meet here tonight?” he asked. She could hear the laughter in his voice.
    Oh, good St. Theodosia! What kind of a wanton must he think I am?
she thought. Mustering all the dignity she could, she said severely, “I only came to tell you that you must not violate the sanctuary of this convent, of which the orchards are a part.” Her heart was hammering wildly.
    “I see,” he said gravely. “I thought perhaps you had come early so you might hide yourself and wait to see if I came.” The silence that followed seemed eternal. “You’re blushing,” he said mischievously.
    “H-h-how can you tell?”
    His hand gently touched her face, and she jumped back. “Your cheek is warm,” he answered.
    “The night is hot,” she quickly replied.
    Again he laughed that soft laugh. Taking her hand, he said imperiously, “Come! I have found us a perfect place—toward the middle of the orchard, beneath the trees. We cannot be seen there.” She was pulled along until he ducked beneath the spreading branches of a large tree and drew her in after him. “Here we are,” he said. “Safe…and very private.” To his amazement, she suddenly burst into tears. Surprised, Murad put his arms about her. “Adora, my sweet, what is it?”
    “I-I-I-I am afraid,” she stuttered, sobbing.
    “Of what, dove?”
    “Of
you
!” she wailed.
    And then he realized how very innocent she really was. Gently he drew her down to sit on his cloak, spread on the grass. “Do not be frightened, Adora. I will not harm you.”
    He held her tenderly, close against his chest, and the front of his shirt was quickly soaked. “I-I have never been with a m-man before,” she confided, her sobs lessening somewhat. “I do not know what I should do, and I would not have you think me ignorant.”
    He swallowed his laughter. “Adora,” he said gravely, “I think it might help if you know who I am as I know who you are. Your Highness.” He heard her soft gasp. “I am Prince Murad, the third son of Sultan Orkhan. The gossips would have you believe I am a profligate. But I obey the Koran, and I would certainly never seduce my father’s wife—even if she is very tempting. And only a political pawn.”
    For a moment all was silent. Then she asked, “Have you known my identity from the beginning?”
    “Almost. When we met, I was returning to the palace after visiting a friend who lives nearby. There is no other way to go except past St. Catherine’s. When you told me your name it suddenly came to me that you were
the
Theadora.”
    “And knowing who I was, you still kissed me? And made an assignation with me? You are despicable, Prince Murad!”
    “You came, Adora,” he reminded her quietly.
    “Only to tell you that you must not come here again!”
    “No. Because you were curious, dove. Admit it.”
    “I admit nothing.”
    He took a gentler tone with her. “Curiosity is no crime, my sweet. It is natural for a young girl to be curious about men. Especially a girl as cloistered as you are. Tell me, when was the last time you saw a man?”
    “Father Bessarion hears my confession weekly,” she said primly.
    He laughed low. “I said a
man
, not the dried-up husk of an elderly priest.”
    “I have not seen a man since I entered St. Catherine’s. The other students do not live here, and no one comes to visit me.” It was stated simply, mat-ter-of-factly.
    He reached out and covered the slim little hand with his own large, square one. His