WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE Read online

  “Whereas you are vibrant, alive, bold,” Mary declared loyally. “Do you know I’m jealous of you? I’m jealous of your intelligence and calm good sense about practical matters. But I’m also jealous of your looks too. Many times I wish I’d had your dark hair or green eyes.” She gave Eden a critical once-over before adding, “Or your perfect figure.”

  “Mary, your figure is excellent.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m straight and narrow while you are round and full where a woman should be. Of course, now I wish you were ugly, ugly, ugly. Then Madame Indrani wouldn’t be able to sell you and you’d stay here. I’d make you escape her clutches and come live with me. I’d introduce you to one of Nate’s friends and you’d marry and we could stay as we are. Of course, you wouldn’t be wearing silk like you are now. There’s not a one of Nate’s friends who isn’t as poor as we are.”

  Eden shook her head with a sad little laugh. “I would give up silk for what you picture. But the truth is, Mary, if I didn’t look the way I do, Madame wouldn’t have taken me in all those years ago and I would have starved to death on the street, or worse. Much worse,” she added, dark memories still clear in her mind.

  “Worse than being sold?”

  Eden knew Mary could never understand. She focused on the sweet loveliness of the child. Dorothy’s little fingers clutched her mother’s dress like tree roots gripping the ground for water. For a moment, the loneliness of her life almost overwhelmed her. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  “We can’t let this happen,” Mary said authoritatively, “not without a fight. You don’t have to do what Madame Indrani tells you to do. This is England! I will go to Nate and tell him of your plight. I know that once he hears of this foul injustice, he will champion your cause. We will rescue you!”

  Mary’s eyes sparkled with fiery righteousness and Eden realized that she would truly attempt to do as she said. She would risk her reputation, and the living of her husband, for a friend.

  Her willingness to perform such a sacrifice melted something hard and distrusting inside of Eden. It allowed her to drop her guard and let Mary see just how distressed she truly was over the news she’d received this morning.

  “Mary, you are the only friend I’ve ever had.”

  Mary placed her hand over Eden’s and drew her to the bench to sit down. “We’re as close as sisters, aren’t we? Your friendship changed my life, Eden. That day you overheard me crying in the garden, I suffered such a fit of black despair I thought of killing myself. Then suddenly, you were there. Do you remember? You talked and talked to me and wouldn’t give up until I was finally able to draw on your strength and grow stronger myself.” She hugged Dorothy to her. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have my baby.”

  Tears burned in Eden’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them back. She’d learned long ago that tears never served a purpose. “You would have found your way.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have. My marriage was a shambles, my husband bitter and angry, myself lost, and in the middle of it was my mother-in-law telling everyone how worthless I was. I consider our meeting to be a turning point in my life. I value this friendship. Remember when you had to explain to me the—” She waved her hand, still too embarrassed to speak certain words aloud, whereas Eden knew every graphic word for what a man and a woman could do to each other.

  “Intimacies?” Eden suggested helpfully, using one of Madame’s favorite descriptions.

  Mary gave a small sigh of relief. “Yes, intimacies. Poor Nate, his orphanage-raised wife didn’t have any knowledge of such things and every time he came near me after our first night, I’d break down in tears. I believed he was quite mad to want to do those things.” The color in her cheeks brightened a bit as she added, “But he is very happy now. And I am too. I feel cherished, loved… and all because I learned to not fear those moments between us. In fact, I like them a great deal,” she confided.

  Eden raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You like it?”

  Mary nodded shyly. “Quite a bit, actually.”

  Eden found herself curious. Sex was work, not something to be enjoyed.

  As if reading her mind, Mary said, “I don’t know if I could be like you. I’d have to care about the person before I’d let them do… you know.” She waved her hand, unable to say the word “sex.” “Otherwise, it would be rather disgusting.”

  Eden shifted uncomfortably and came to her feet. This was not a conversation she wanted.

  But Mary was relentless. “How can you do it, Eden? How can you live the life you do?”

  “Madame Indrani says that, to men, there are two types of women, the ones you marry and the whores. A whore is a woman who is paid for what a wife does for free.”

  Mary stared at her, and then answered fiercely, “It’s not like that, Eden. There must be more between a man and his wife than just… the intimacies to make a marriage. I understand that now.”

  This was a new maturity to Mary that Eden hadn’t seen before… and her words rang true. Eden looked around at the roses, lilies, and beds of poppies. “One night, I dreamed that I planted a garden like this, only it had more roses and fewer poppies.” She slid a self-conscious smile at Mary. “In my dream, there were babies. Little, tiny babies folded into the leaves of each and every rose. They had perfect little fingers and even smaller toes—” She broke off, suddenly afraid to reveal so much.

  Mary rose, hoisting Dorothy up in her arms. “Leave Madame Indrani. Right now, this minute. We shall walk in the house and tell Nate your story. He will save you.”

  For a second, Eden wanted to believe her, that it could be that easy. A sparrow hopped from branch to branch in the pear tree over their heads. It eyed them a moment before flying toward freedom.

  Eden spoke. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No, Mary, I can’t. I’ve been trained to be a rich man’s mistress. It is the only life I’ve known.”

  “It can’t be. Surely you came from somewhere. You must have family. You speak too well.”

  “I have no one.” She looked at the stone walls of the Abbey rising up over the garden wall. “I was raised on the streets of London in places you can’t even imagine, Mary. I never knew my mother much less my father.”

  “So? I’m an orphan too.”

  “Yes, but I’ve probably done things you would never do just to survive. Mary, it was a blessing when Madame Indrani found me and brought me to the Abbey.”

  “Where she trained you for a whore’s life!”

  Eden heard the contempt in her voice. She lifted her chin. “She saved my life. And yes, she’s trained me for the whore’s life. But she also taught me to speak well, and to read because she believes a woman should know such a thing. A woman trained by Madame Indrani is groomed to have more class and distinction than a princess of the blood.”

  “So that she could someday sell you!”

  “No! So that I can find a better life!”

  Mary sat Dorothy down on a quilt spread over the soft grass at her feet. “Eden, yours is not a better life. Nor do you have to keep living this life. You helped me once, now let me help you. Madame Indrani cannot force you into slavery.”

  Eden stiffened at the word “slavery.” If only Mary knew… “I have no choice. The deed is done. Money has been exchanged.”

  “You are being so obstinate! Do you want this? Is that why you refuse to accept my offer to help?”

  “You don’t understand—”

  “I’m trying to! But I’m beginning to think you don’t want to leave. That you like your life servicing men.”

  “It’s the only life I know!”

  “Then find another!”

  They stood only a foot apart from each other, their stance that of adversaries instead of friends.

  The truth of Mary’s words sank in slowly. Never before had Eden dared to question Madame Indrani’s wisdom… or her own desires.

  Mary held out her hand. “Come in the house, now, with m
e, and we shall talk to Nate.”

  Eden stared at Mary’s hand and discovered another difference between them. Mary believed in what she was saying. Eden had lived too hard a life and knew that such opportunities did not exist for a girl born in the deepest dives of London, a girl who had witnessed murder and had feared for her own life.

  Mary’s words were the stuff of dreams and fancy tales, not reality.

  “I can’t. I’m sold. My only way out would be to buy myself back. Only then would I be free to leave.”

  “And if you don’t?” Mary demanded scornfully.

  “Then she would have me killed.”

  Mary’s hand wavered. “You’re joking?”

  “I’m not. It is the way of our business.”

  It took a moment for Mary to understand the very real threat. But she was not dissuaded. “Then we will raise the funds. We will free you.”

  Eden gave a small, bitter laugh. “You have twenty-five thousand pounds?”

  The breath seemed to leave Mary in a rush. She sat down abruptly on the bench. “Twenty-five thousand pounds? For a woman?”

  “You’re surprised to discover I am worth that much?” Eden said with a lift of one eyebrow. “Only moments ago, you were telling me how unique I am.”

  “Yes—I mean, no. Oh, I don’t know what I mean.” Dorothy had started to crawl away and Mary absently bent down to pick her up. “But then, I shouldn’t be surprised, should I? You are uncommonly beautiful.” She mulled over the matter, her curiosity active now. “Is twenty-five thousand pounds the usual price? I mean, I can see why some women turn to the prostitute’s life for that sort of money.”

  “Not every woman can command that price, but Madame thought she could for me and she has done so. I’ve actually been for sale since I turned fourteen.”

  “And how old are you now?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Have many men offered for you?”

  “In the beginning, when Madame first brought me out, I had numerous offers. But once they learned she wouldn’t negotiate her price, most gentlemen lost interest.”

  “How did they know about you?”

  “Men gossip. I think the high price was all part of Madame’s scheme. She understands that men want what they can’t have. She coined a name for me, ”the Siren.“ She has a name for each of us and says it adds to our mystique. About every other week, she hosts soirees to introduce the girls up for sale. She’d have me there sometimes. I’d play pianoforte for the gentlemen’s entertainment and occasionally she’d ask for bids.”

  “They bid on you? Like you are a horse for sale?” Mary’s mouth flattened. “This is revolting. I can’t believe men could be so base and callous. But I can believe Madame would ask a high price for you. You aren’t like the other girls who live in the Abbey.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’m not completely blind. I’ve seen the girls coming and going. They are jaded and hard, whereas you have a certain vulnerability that sets you apart from them. A freshness. It’s part of your beauty.”

  Eden didn’t know whether to be happy or sad at Mary’s observation. It was true. She wasn’t completely comfortable with her life.

  “But twenty-five thousand pounds!” Mary repeated, bouncing Dorothy on her hip. “It’s a fortune.”

  “It’s the price of virginity.”

  Mary almost dropped the baby. “You’re a virgin?”

  “Well, of course,” Eden said, surprised by the question. “Madame Indrani could never demand such a price if I wasn’t.”

  “But I thought—I mean… well, you’ve always been so knowledgeable when we talked about…” Her face turned beet-red.

  “Yes?” Eden prompted.

  “Well, I assumed you were… experienced.”

  “I am in many things.” Dorothy was laughing up at Eden and again, Eden dared to lightly stroke one of the baby’s curls. She let the tip of her finger brush the baby’s cheek, and something deep inside of her ached to hold the child. She leaned back.

  “But how can you know so much without actually… you know?” Mary persisted.

  “I was trained,” Eden answered matter-of-factly.

  “Trained?”

  “Yes. I was given lessons. I was taught what to do.”

  The color drained from Mary’s face. “Lessons? Like taking lessons in French or mathematics? Or learning from someone how to cook by watching them?”

  Eden couldn’t help but smile at the analogy. “Yes. Very much like learning to cook.”

  Mary appeared ready to swoon. “I never imagined such a thing. I mean, did you—With many men? Wait, no, don’t tell me. I’m not certain I want to know!“

  With the differences between Mary and herself suddenly emphasized, Eden didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She sat on the bench. “The man who has paid my price wants a virgin, but he doesn’t want a woman who is stupid in bed.”

  “You are not a dog to be purchased, used, and then dismissed with a pat on the head!”

  Eden looked into her friend’s angry features and suddenly felt an overpowering sadness. “I have no choice, Mary, and I must try to make the best of it. I haven’t told you all. The man who purchased me is a Kurdufan prince.”

  “Kurdufan? I’ve never heard of such a place.”

  “It’s a long way from England. Madame Indrani was once one of Ibn Sibah’s concubines in his harem. She saved his life and he set her free. She then came to London and opened the Abbey. She knew he could afford my price. When I was fourteen, she sent him a miniature of me. However, because of Napoleon and a war on Kurdufan, he was unable to send for me until yesterday. His emissaries have arrived. The transaction is complete. I leave at the end of next week for Kurdufan.”

  “What?” Mary’s voice came out in a whisper of disbelief. “You’re leaving England? To live in a harem? Eden, do you know what a harem is? I’ve heard missionaries talk about the wicked ways of the heathens. It’s a godforsaken place where women are not allowed to leave. It truly is slavery.”

  Eden felt her brave front in danger of collapsing. A hard lump formed in her throat. “Madame assures me that if I please the Ibn Sibah, I may also be set free.”

  Mary sat down on the bench and stared hard into Eden’s eyes. “But you are already free.”

  “I was never free, Mary. Not from the moment Madame took me into her coach.”

  “Then you should never have climbed into it.”

  Eden lowered her voice. “You don’t understand. I’d seen a man murdered and the one that had done it wanted to silence me completely.”

  Mary’s eyes widened, but then she frowned. “That was years ago, Eden. You do not have anything to fear. Tell Madame to give the money back. Tell her you do not want to go to a harem.”

  “I can’t.”

  “What you can’t do is leave England.”

  “I must.”

  On Mary’s lap, Dorothy was sucking her fist contentedly. The garden smelled of good earth and sunlight. It was a place of beauty, a place of refuge.

  “I’m afraid,” Eden confessed.

  “I’m afraid for you.” Mary’s arm came around Eden’s shoulders and she pulled her close. “I will say prayers for you every single hour of every day. God will save you.”

  Eden didn’t answer. This God, in whom Mary had such great faith, had done very little for Eden in her life.

  “Here.” Mary pulled the gold chain around her neck up over her head. “I want you to have this. It’s a medallion I was given in the orphanage.” She held it out to Eden. Sunlight glinted off the bas-relief sign of the cross on the small circle of gold as it twirled slowly on the end of the chain. Dorothy reached for it, but her mother pulled her arm back. “Come now, take it.”

  Eden had never received such a gift. “I can’t. It’s yours.”

  “I am happy and married. It has served me well. Now you are the one in need of protection.” She pressed the medallion into Eden’s hand. “I will pray that God
gives you the courage to free yourself if the occasion arises, my friend.”

  Her words broke through Eden’s carefully constructed defenses. At last, she allowed the tears to come and she made no attempt to stop them as she wept in her friend’s arms.

  From Eden’s bedroom window in the Abbey, Madame Indrani looked down over the garden wall and saw her Eden crying in the vicar’s wife’s arms.

  Her Eden had never cried, not once in the years that Madame had known her, and yet, there she was.

  A tall woman of regal bearing, Madame was the half-breed love child of an Egyptian woman of good family and a ne’er-do-well Englishman. When her mother had died, the family had sold Madame into slavery where she had become Ibn Sibah’s favorite.

  She knew Eden wasn’t happy with her fate and felt a twinge of remorse—which was pacified by the knowledge that Eden’s sale had made Madame a very rich woman. It could also be profitable for Eden. Ibn Sibah was a generous man. Since he found Western dress exotic, he’d already gifted Eden with an expensive new wardrobe.

  At one time, the growing friendship between the mousy vicar’s wife and her star pupil had amused Madame, but not any longer. Now that same friendship threatened a very lucrative business understanding.

  Coming to a sudden decision, Madame turned on her heel and went downstairs where she found Firth, her bodyguard and manservant.

  “I want that hidden door in the garden wall locked. And watch Eden. See that she doesn’t go anywhere unchaperoned until we have her on that ship for Kurdufan.”

  Two weeks later, flanked by the two turbanned emissaries from the sultan, Eden was put aboard the English vessel Wind Lark. She had in her possession the finest wardrobe money could buy, but a gold chain and medallion around her neck meant more to her than the fine clothes and the Sultan’s twenty-five thousand pounds combined.

  There had been no opportunity to say goodbye to Mary.

  Now, walking up the ship’s gangway, she clutched the medallion and prayed as Mary had once urged her.

  Once aboard ship, Eden had her first taste of harem life. Nasim, the sultan’s emissary, ordered her locked in her cabin. She wasn’t even allowed to see the ship leave the London dock. Neither the captain nor the crew were permitted to speak to her.