Free SILK AND SECRETS by Mary Jo Putney Page A

tasted his soup. It contained yoghurt, rice, and mint and was delicious. “Was the fortress a ruin then?”
    “Yes. This eastern frontier of Persia is terribly poor from the constant Turkoman raids. Many of the villagers were taken to Bokhara as slaves, and others left for safer places.”
    He tore off a piece of flat bread and used it to scoop up a mouthful of hummus, a blend of chickpeas and various flavorings. “Serevan looks capable of withstanding attacks.”
    “It is now, but when I came here the walls were crumbling and the main well had been poisoned, so only a few people were left in the village.” Juliet sipped at her wine, her expression distant. “I fell in love with the place, though. There is something very pure and elemental about the mountains and the desert. Saleh was living in the village. He is an Uzbek, from Bokhara originally.”
    That caught Ross’s attention; he would have to talk to Saleh before he went on, to see if the Bokharan might have some useful suggestions. He also wondered if the Uzbek was Juliet’s lover; the man might be old enough to be her father, but that meant nothing. His mind veered away from the thought. “And since you admired Lady Hester Stanhope, you decided to emulate her and set up a little kingdom of your own here?”
    “I suppose one could put it that way.” Juliet stood and cleared the empty bowls away. Then she placed on the table a platter of roast lamb surrounded by rice mixed with nuts and dried fruit. “I was tired of continually traveling and wanted to settle somewhere. Money is power, and my fifteen hundred pounds a year has been enough to finance new wells, rebuild the fortress, and buy livestock and seeds. Once they knew they would be safe, people began trickling back. Now there is quite a sizable community. Mostly Persians, but there are Uzbeks and Afghans, even a few Turkomans. All are welcome, as long as they will live in peace with their neighbors. It is a rather feudal arrangement, with me as lord of the manor.”
    Reluctantly Ross admitted to himself that she had made good use of his money. It would have been easy to lavish it on herself in the fleshpots of Europe; instead, she had created an island of peace and prosperity in a troubled land. And it took more than money to rule here; the men of Serevan would not obey her orders if she had not earned their respect. “Speaking of Lady Hester Stanhope, did you hear that she died? About a year and a half ago.”
    “No, I hadn’t heard. I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose—she was well along in years. But she was a legend for so long that it’s hard to believe that she’s gone.” Juliet looked wistful. “When I was in Cyprus, I thought of going to Syria to meet her, but decided to wait until after my trip to Persia. Since I stayed here, now I’ll never meet her.”
    “Perhaps that’s just as well,” Ross said. “She was a fascinating person, but she liked men much more than women and would probably have been very uncivil to a young female who so much resembled her. This way, you can retain your illusions.”
    Juliet’s eyes rounded. “You actually met Lady Hester Stanhope?” When Ross nodded, she exclaimed, “Please, tell me everything about her!”
    “Not tonight.” Ross divided the last of the bottle of wine between his glass and hers. “Why the Tuareg costume?”
    She smiled. “It lends an aura of mystery, which is no bad thing in a land where myth is as powerful as reality— perhaps more so. Also, the veil protects my face from the sun and disguises the fact that I’m a woman. Everyone at Serevan knows, of course.”
    “It sounds like you have created a unique niche for yourself here.” Ross paused, then found himself adding in a soft voice, “Have you been happy, Juliet?”
    Her face closed and she looked down at her plate. “I am content. It is important to do something worthwhile.” Then, with an obvious desire to change the subject, she asked, “How is