"Culture is stronger than ideology," Ross observed, "and most people are happier following the customs they were raised with. Born rebels like you are rare."
"So it seems. But I regret having so little in common with the women here, because it limits friendship. I miss having female friends—in particular, I miss Sara." Juliet stopped, realizing that she was getting too close to the dangerous ground of their mutual past.
Perhaps feeling the same, Ross changed the subject. "The fact that you can enjoy the company of women makes you very different from Lady Hester Stanhope. She despised her own sex and would have much preferred to be born male. As a man, she would have made a splendid general or politician."
Juliet seized the new topic with enthusiasm. "That's right, you visited Lady Hester. When did you go? What was she like?"
Ross hesitated. Apparently the years had not dimmed his wife's innocent admiration for the self-styled "Queen of the Arabs," and he did not want to disillusion her. "I visited Lady Hester six or seven years ago. She was witty and opinionated. Capricious. Admirable, but also rather pathetic."
Taken aback, Juliet said, "How could such an incredible woman ever be pathetic? There has never been anyone like her."
Ross realized that he must be very careful of what he said; his wife had had enough bad news tonight, and she did not need more. "When I visited, Lady Hester's health was failing and she no longer left her fortress for any reason. For a woman who had been a splendid rider and a great traveler, that must have been difficult."
A little shyly Juliet said, "When I decided to live at Serevan, I promised myself I would try to live as Lady Hester did: to welcome all refugees, no matter what their tribe or creed—to protect those within my walls, never to send anyone away hungry." Her voice became dreamy. "It still amazes me that a woman who was the niece of William Pitt, who had lived at the very center of British politics, could turn her back on society and create a kingdom of her own in Syria."
"Actually, it makes perfect sense," he said thoughtfully. "Lady Hester was born to rule, but what influence she had came from being the niece and hostess of the prime minister. After Pitt died, there was nothing left for her in England but obscurity. She would have hated that. In the East, she could do exactly as she wished, and she had authority again."
Wistfully Juliet said, "She was incredibly brave. Did you ever hear the story of how she became the first European woman ever to visit the ruins of Palmyra? She had the courage to put herself entirely under the protection of Bedouin raiders—" Abruptly Juliet cut off her monologue. "Sorry... of course you know all that. Please, tell me what it was like to meet her."
"Since I was in Cyprus, I decided to go over to the Lebanon in the hopes that Lady Hester would see me. One seldom has the chance to meet a living legend."
They were some distance from the caravansary now, so by mutual consent they sat down in a patch of soft sand, with the lee of a hill protecting them from the wind. Ross continued, "While all visitors were offered hospitality, she often refused to see them personally. But I was fortunate—she remembered my father from her political days, so she decided to receive me."
He chuckled. "It was quite an experience. Though Lady Hester was nearly sixty, she still had enough vanity that she would entertain only after dark, since lamplight was more flattering. After her servants gave me an excellent dinner, she sent for me."
"What did you talk about?" Juliet asked eagerly.
"I didn't talk," Ross said rather dryly. "My job was to listen. She spent the whole night describing her metaphysical theories. Though her overall health was not good, there was nothing wrong with her tongue. I wasn't dismissed until dawn."
"I had heard that Lady Hester was a great talker, and so intelligent that Pitt said she would never marry, for she would never find a man with more wit than she had," Juliet observed. "What did she look like?"
"She was an impressive figure, a couple of inches taller even than you. She wore the robes of a Turkish pasha, and had a manner to match." Casting his mind back, Ross described the more interesting aspects of Lady Hester and her fortress of Djoun, glad that he was able to distract Juliet from her grief over her brother. Juliet and Ian had been as close as Ross and Sara. Though they had not seen each other in years, Ian's death must leave a bleak hole in her world.
As Ross talked, he kept a carefully casual eye on his wife's listening profile. With the veil down, her face was a pale, pure cameo against the black velvet night. There was a bitter irony in the scene: here they were, alone together in a desert in a remote and exotic part of the world.