Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) Read Online Free PDF

mischievously bright. “Of course! There’s your solution!”
    “That is not an option,” Ren countered flatly.
    “Your options,” Hakim asserted with a flourish of his hand, “are limitless. You are the Duke of Caversham after all. Think anyone would go against you should you legitimize a bastard born of a mistress?” Hakim took a sip of his wine, and made sure Ren understood him before continuing. “I think not, my friend.”
    “Impossible. There are others to consider, my responsibility to my family, my duty to my title, my heritage, and social mores.”
    “The Ren I know would not be concerned with the opinions of others,” Hakim replied.
    “I simply wish to secure the release of a woman I’m sure was illegally procured.” Remembering the desperation on her face, Ren added, “If you had seen the look in her eyes you would agree.” He stood to leave. “She probably has a family at home desirous of her safe return, and I would take her back. If she were one of my sisters, I would hope for the same.”
    Hakim and Ismael stood, intending to accompany him.
    “If you come with me,” Ren lectured, “there will be no such discussion again. I am only about freeing a despairing waif.”
    “I promise to be on my bess behavior, Your Grace,” the prince drawled. A servant filled a large flask with the port as Hakim instructed and handed it to him.
    “You are going to have a hell of a cracked skull tomorrow.” Ren tossed back the remaining contents of his glass.
    “Only because I have not imbibed since your last visit.”
    Ren quirked an eye to Ismael for confirmation, and the physician nodded knowingly.
    “Mayhap your green-eyed runaway will turn out to be a fantasy in the flesh,” Hakim said, linking arms with Ismael, as the two headed from the room. “A woman to stir the loins,” Hakim paused, exchanging a look with the physician, “and possibly the heart.”
    “Oh, I doubt that,”Ren muttered, following the two from the dining hall.

 
    C HAPTER T HREE
     
     
    T he crush of men packed into the plain stucco building on the outskirts of the souk made the large room uncomfortably warm, humid and stuffy. A heavy cloud of smoke hugged the ceiling, and appeared as a solid mass which threatened to fall onto their heads. Ren, Ismael, and Hakim stood at the back of the room, all seats long ago taken by early-comers.
    Wishing to remain anonymous, they’d changed clothing, with no outward signs to denote their positions. During the ride, Ismael and Hakim informed Ren that because of his status as a foreigner he was unable to bid. Ren then delegated Ismael to transact in his stead.
    “Understand, my friend,” Ismael said, “that selling concubines is an ancient custom. It existed long before you or I, and likely will forever. Most still practice the old ways. They do not take kindly to foreigners intruding and attempting to change their world, and that is how they view you.
    “If it were common knowledge that you purchased a prepared concubine, only to liberate her, it would serve to stir the newly settled hostilities. Not to mention that the whoremaster, Ashraf, will have wasted his considerable knowledge educating the girl. He will feel disgraced, and he holds great power among the merchant and military classes. With little effort, he could hinder trade relations with your country.”
    Ren inhaled from his cheroot, exhaled, then turned to Ismael and Hakim. “That is a good thing then, because I cannot have my name connected to the purchase of a woman,” he stated. “If such information should ever become public knowledge amongst the ton, it would create a tremendous scandal. I must think of the others in the family, not only myself.”
    His friends nodded in agreement. Ren turned back toward the curtained dais, to await the beginning of the sale. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hakim nod knowingly to Ismael.
    Ren leaned back and took another drag, confident that no scandal could occur, if he