Silk and Secrets(62)

For just a moment she touched the back of his hand. "Don't blame yourself—it was far more complicated than that. I was confused... so confused. No matter what you had done or not done, I don't think the result would have been any different."

No longer able to restrain himself, Ross raised his hand and gently caressed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Softly he said, "So our marriage was doomed from the start?"

For a moment he felt a touch of warm moisture on her petal-smooth cheek. Then with one lithe movement she got to her feet and moved out of his reach. "There is no point in talking about the distant past—it's upsetting and changes nothing," she said, her voice brittle. "The very young Juliet Cameron was wholly unsuited to be either a wife or an English lady. It's a great pity she didn't know that, for marrying an English lord distressed a number of people unnecessarily."

She halted for a moment, then finished very quietly, "I learned my lesson. I just regret that I learned it too late to save you from suffering for my sins."

More slowly, Ross also stood. "So you buried yourself in a land where you are so much an outsider that no one will ever expect you to be like anyone else. Has that solved the underlying problem of feeling that you don't belong?"

In the silence that followed, she withdrew from their brief intimacy with a thoroughness that was almost tangible. Juliet had revealed as much as she was willing to, at least for tonight. She gave a light laugh, as cool and detached as any society woman in her own drawing room. "The worst thing about you, Ross, is that you are always right. Such a very maddening trait."

If she had had a fan, she might have tapped him with it. And if she had, he would have broken the damned thing in half.

His expression grim, he got to his feet. If he were always right, she never would have left him. "It's time to get some rest. I'm going to need all my strength if I want to avoid disgracing myself in Dil Assa's equine riot."

Juliet pulled the veil over her lower face again and removed the desert flower he had tucked over her ear. As she tossed it into the sand, she said, "Just remember your resolution not to try to beat him at his own game. We've had quite enough excitement on this journey."

Ross couldn't have agreed more.





Chapter 12





With the exception of a few men left on guard duty, everyone in the caravan went out to Dil Assa's camp, which was a couple of miles up the river from the town. As the loose, good-natured group rode through the barren countryside, Ross glanced at Juliet, whose camel was ambling along by his. "You're right about how popular bozkashi is. Everyone's in a holiday mood."

Dryly she said, "In Turkestan it is considered great fun to watch animals rip each other to shreds—dogs fight dogs, cocks fight cocks, quail fight quail. Even bull camels are set to fighting each other when they're in rut. What does that tell you about bozkashi?"

He chuckled. "That I'll be glad when this is over and I am back at the caravansary, preferably with all limbs intact."

Their destination was a scattered collection of yurts, circular tents made of felt. The effect was rather like a collection of black-roofed beehives. Swarms of children, the next generation of plunderers, buzzed about. Most of the inhabitants wore bright clothing, red being the preferred color. To Ross's surprise, the nomad women were unveiled, a rarity in Islam. Instead, they wore high, elaborate headdresses with red or white scarves that fell behind to their waists.

Everyone stopped and stared at Ross when he rode into the encampment. Since it was common knowledge that he was a ferengi, he had decided to wear the European clothing he was most comfortable in, and his white shirt and plain buckskins were a stark contrast to the flowing, colorful robes of the Turkomans. His only Asiatic garment was his white turban, which he wore for protection against the sun.

As he dismounted from his camel, Dil Assa pushed through the gathering crowd. The Turkoman wore a cap edged with wolf fur, which was the mark of a chopendoz, an acknowledged bozkashi master. "Ah, my ferengi friend," he said with patent insincerity. "1 am delighted to see that you have not had second thoughts. Here is a bozkashi whip. I will take you to your mount." After handing Ross a short lead-weighted whip, the Turkoman turned and led the way to the edge of the encampment.

Since the playing area was still some distance away, most of the other caravan members continued riding. However, Juliet dismounted and gave Murad the reins to both camels. Then, like a good servant, she trailed along behind Ross, watching his back. However, Ross did not feel as if he was in any immediate danger; if Dil Assa wanted to break the khalifa's injunction by killing the ferengi, he would surely not do so until after Ross had made a fool of himself in the game.