"A refreshing, enlightening plot about a woman's heart-wrenching fight to survive."
Reviewed by Kay Quintin
Posted September 9, 2010
Romance Historical
Dark-skinned beauty, Elena Ravenscliffe, is only six months
from giving birth to a son, Jonathan. Originally from
England, she and her husband, Robert, are in Constantinople
where he has gambled everything away and they live in
poverty. Elena is lost to the slave traders to satisfy
Robert's debt, and she is separated from her baby while
dragged away in chains. Elena is sold into a harem and
bargains to obey with the return of her son. Prince Amir,
of the Isle of Carfu, grooms her in the erotic ways of a
high-priced whore, while keeping his promise to give her
and her son all the luxuries possible. Five years later, Griffin Summerfield, Marques of Rothburn,
previously engaged to Elena, attends the harem auction and
recognizes her. His purchase of her for three months begins
a sexually erotic love affair, but she's terrified of her
child being left behind. To return Jonathan to her and
escape certain death from Amir, Griffin fears losing the
love he values more than his life. Tiffany Clare has written an exceptionally exciting
and heart-wrenching story of devotion and survival of a
young mother, sold into the most despicable of
circumstances. Elena's bravery and determination is
unequaled. Her love and devotion for her son, as well as
love for her long-lost fiancé, tears her apart. I found
this to be fast-paced, full of suspense and totally
exciting with each turn of the page. A new and refreshing
plot has been woven for the reader.
SUMMARY
Sold. With one word, Lady Elena Ravenscliffe’s
destiny changes forever. Forced into Constantinople’s slave
market to pay off her late husband’s debts and save her son,
Elena reinvents herself as Jinan—a harem girl adored by the
rich lords who bid on her favors. But one man instantly sees
through her façade. Griffin Summerfield, Marquess of
Rothburn, let Elena slip through his fingers years ago. When
he recognizes her on the auction block, he pays an
outrageous sum to possess her even if it is for a short
period of time. But when his deadline looms, Griffin will
risk all in a desperate bid to make her his—and his alone…
ExcerptCHAPTER ONE
Slave Trader1841
Constantinople “What do you mean, you’ll work this out? You’ve gambled me
away! I’m your wife, for heaven’s sake!” “Elena, please. Calm yourself. I’ll think of something.”
Did he really think to placate her after such a
proclamation? She was entitled to more than a fit of rage
right now. She was livid. “It’s a little late for alternatives.” With her hand clutched over her chest, Elena felt the
frantic beating of her heart beneath her thin nightgown. She
was desperate to calm it and her nerves; otherwise she’d
never think this through rationally. What he said couldn’t
be true. It was outrageous and too despicable to
contemplate. A sickening sense of fear had her itching to
crawl through the floor. Two eunuchs flanked her husband. One was pure ebony, with a
wide, firm frame common to the palace eunuchs, and had a
severe, menacing posture that terrified the wits out of her.
The bitter fear made her want to retreat to the other side
of the room. Out of his reach. The other was shorter and
fatter, with a round, pockmarked face and a red sash about
his waist that accentuated his girth. Whenever he spoke to
her husband, she caught a glimpse of gold teeth behind his
anger-thinned lips. The sight made her quiver in disgust. Both projected an air of command. They wore traditional
caftans, and their forearms bore large gold cuffs, their
fists were loose at their sides. One couldn’t mistake their
intent. Nor did their poised outward appearance fool her;
they would not be stopped from collecting payment. It was
just a matter of sorting out what that payment was. “Tell them to leave, Robert. We will think of something.” They would leave Constantinople to escape what her husband
had done. Start afresh, just as they’d done last year. This
place was supposed to have been their refuge. A place where
their son could grow up without being looked down upon by
society because of his father’s recklessness. Foolish of her to think Robert had changed. He never did the
decent thing by his family. How had she been duped into
believing he’d mend his bad habits after all these years? “I’m afraid it’s not so easy as that.” She knew he played at being calm with those men hovering
around. They were almost enough to frighten her into
silence. But she knew her husband wouldn’t defend her, he
never had. Not from the first moment he’d set his sights on
her. She swallowed back the fear closing in around her and
stilled her shaking hands by clasping them together. She
needed to remain strong, to remember that Robert was a
betraying swine. If she focused on that thought, she might
be able to talk her way out of this. She would not be the bargaining chip for his gambling debts. Tilting her chin up, she looked down her nose at her
husband. “I refuse to go.” Yet she knew in her heart that payment had been made in the
form of one young, nubile wife, not yet six months from the
birthing bed. She began to believe these men wouldn’t leave
without her, but what did they plan to do with her, a woman
still showing the signs of childbearing? Did they fancy such
sport as she? She was no pale-skinned odalisque. There had to be a solution, something to stall them. She
just didn’t know what would work. The back of her knees hit the worn damask settee. She sat
with a thump, fingers worrying a small tear on the edge of
the seat. If one looked around the room it was more than
obvious money was not abundant in this household. The floral
printed paper on the walls was peeling in many places, the
carpets underfoot pitiable, threadbare. The furniture,
scratched and dented over the years, looked as worn out as
she felt. Even the china didn’t match. Anyone who came into
their home knew immediately the impoverished state they
lived in.
It was unlikely the eunuchs could be convinced with promise
for payment. But there must be a way to bribe them. The maidservant had heard the commotion and came in looking
askance at her. Elena knew she wasn’t here for her sake,
though. Everyone in the household would want to know if
their wages would be paid, as her husband kept promising.
Now they would all know Robert had gambled away what little
money remained. It was no secret that the servants had been
collecting bets on the span of her husband’s life. Robert
played a dangerous game. He was a foreigner here and easily
swindled out of their pittance. This wasn’t calm and proper
England but a hostile land with hostile natives. The smaller man said something in Turkish to her husband.
She wasn’t used to the language and only recognized
smatterings. None of what they said made sense. Robert ran a
hand through his hair, his words careful as he asked them in
his most authoritative voice—sorely lacking in a tone of
command since the devolution of their old life—to leave his
home. The one who had spoken shook his head and placed his hand on
his hip, perilously close to the bloodred handle of his
scimitar. An ominous sign. Elena swallowed what little saliva she had and watched her
husband’s Adam’s apple bob. The eunuchs weren’t moving.
Robert’s only reaction was to clench his jaw and take a step
away from them—clearly done arguing on her behalf. Giving up
on her so easily. It shouldn’t surprise her. Still, she fought tears of
sadness for how little she meant to the man who had shared
the last five years with her. It didn’t matter any longer
that he’d secured their marriage through deception,
cornering her in Lady Aberney’s study, approaching her with
a wicked gleam in his eye. She was won, so he must have lost
fun in the chase after that night. The silent guard looked to her. Elena stared him in the eye,
unwilling to cower before the eunuchs who on further
assessment could only be slave traders, not palace guards.
She was safe in her own home. She had to be. She would not
leave. She made that resolve clear as she looked at him. But
it was lost. The eunuch’s eyes held no expression. No pity,
no sympathy for what her husband had done. Those were the
empty, soulless eyes of a man who had seen and lived a hard
mercenary life in a world with too many cruelties to keep a
compassionate heart for those less fortunate—she being the
less fortunate. She was a noblewoman. They couldn’t possibly mean to take
her! How could they take her away from her baby? Forcing her gaze away from the eunuch she glared at her
husband. “What of the silver, Robert?” There were
candlesticks that could be melted down, some cutlery, too. Was that enough to send these ruffians on their way? Robert stepped toward her. Looking to the maidservant, he
jerked his head in a violent fashion that had the woman
leaving the room posthaste. Elena could imagine the maid’s
whispered words to the rest of the serving staff. Would they
stay on after this? She really didn’t care. She needed to
sort all this nonsense out so she could hold her son. She would fix this. She always fixed her husband’s blunders.
He stood before her, looking down but not meeting her gaze.
One hand grasped her shoulder; he gave it the smallest
squeeze in reassurance. It was lost in the gravity of the
situation. “Listen to me, Elena. I’ve had a bad turn of luck—” She snapped her head to the side as though struck by his
words and glowered. He found some courage to look her in the
eye when she let out a hiss of air between her teeth. “You’ve always had a bad turn, Robert! You promised me you
wouldn’t fall into old habits!” She pounded her palm against
the seat. “You promised me a new life when our son was
born.” Her fingers clutched the edge of the settee, grasping
for any sort of balance to her lopsided, unfair life. “I know. And I did keep that promise, Elena. I restricted my
outings to a gentleman’s establishment. Ali Admen came in
for a round of loo with a mutual friend, so I agreed to sit
for a hand. I was doing well and stayed on at the table. A
little blunt would have not been remiss.” He shook his head
as though recalling the exact moment of his downfall.
“Before I knew it, luck wasn’t about me.” She took a deep breath. She must remain calm. Even though
the voice in her mind screamed for her to get out of here.
As fast as possible. A dread was building in her blood that
she would be taken away from her son. God knew what else
they’d do to her. Bile rose in her throat. She closed her
eyes, breathed in deep through her nose and out through her
mouth. She clenched her hands so tight into the seat she
thought she’d tear right through the material. “You always lose,” she said between gritted teeth. “I will
not go with them.” I will take my son and head back to England the moment you
turn your back, you swine. “Elena . . .” “I mean it, Robert. They’ll have to drag me out of here.”
Her voice caught on those words, and she had to force out
the next, “I refuse to go anywhere.” Eyes flooding with angry tears, she really looked at the man
who was supposed to be her husband. How could he do this and
without so much as a shrug? Was she so worthless? “Please, Elena.” Again with his hand swept through his hair,
never a good sign when his agitation got the better of him.
“I’ll talk to Ali Admen’s man of affairs tomorrow. We’ll
work out another arrangement. We cannot afford . . .” “No! You disgust me, Robert. What made you think you made a
morally sound judgment wagering your own wife for a hand of
cards? How dare you! I will not leave. This is my home. In
case you’ve forgotten, our son needs us. He needs me.” She
pressed her clenched fist to her heart, voice breaking on a
sob. “You would take away his mother?” Elena trained her eyes on the larger and quieter of the
eunuchs. His expression held nothing useful for her. She
stared into those mud-brown eyes and wondered how to mend
this before falling into the snare of those deep wells.
The sound of the baby crying had her on her feet and at the
door in a trice. This was her chance. She’d leave Constantinople and never
look back. “Elena—” She glanced sidelong at Robert, hand already around the door
latch her heart tripping faster than ever as she looked at
her husband for the last time. She had to leave here as
quickly as her feet could carry her. “If you think for one moment I’ll let Jonathan cry through
your good-for-nothing negotiations, you’re mistaken. You can
take my place in their slave quarters until you fix this!
I’ll be with the baby, should you come to your senses and
wish to make amends.” One of the eunuchs grasped the base of her neck, and spun
her painfully around. As he pushed her to the closed door,
all the air whooshed from her lungs. Her shoulder ached from
its impact against the molding. She refused to cry out her
pain and bit her lip till she thought it would bleed.
Realization dawned as she tried to dislodge his hand
unsuccessfully; he could snap her just like this. Hopefully, she was worth more alive than dead. His hand was
unrelenting and with his weight behind it, it proved almost
impossible to drag any air into her lungs. She tried to squirm out of his grasp. She brought her hands
up to his chest to push him away but his grip tightened, his
body pressing hard and heavily into her, rendering her
powerless to move. Deep down, she knew there was never a
hope for escape. Why she attempted it, she didn’t know.
Foolish bravery, perhaps. No. She attempted it for her son. Her son. God, what would
happen to her son? A thin knife rasped against her flesh and jabbed into the
vein that beat a furious tempo above the eunuch’s thumb. It
was the only thing to stop her from pushing at him again.
Nothing more than the threat of the sharp tip held her down,
the still weight of an ox standing behind that deadly
pinprick. Her hands dropped to her side in defeat. If she were dead, she wouldn’t be able to help her son.
The eunuch loosened his grip. From her peripheral vision she
saw his other hand swoop down toward her temple. She ducked
the blow too late.
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