âWith your permission, Princess?â
Theodora allowed Nikolaos to push her back into the mulberry-coloured pillows and sent up a swift, if muddled prayer. Tonight she must give the performance of her life. She must pretend that she was a virgin and that this was the first time she had lain with a man. She must alsoâGod help herâplease him.
Were these aims compatible?
She breathed in her new husbandâs scent. It was dark and spicyâlike him, it was utterly male. She pressed her lips against a satisfyingly wide shoulder and covered it with kisses. She took the tang of salt onto her tongue. Delicious ⦠this man even tastes delicious. And she was melting with desire. Theodora didnât delude herself that it was love that was making her feel this way but, Lord, she had never felt like this before â¦
CAROL TOWNEND has been making up stories since she was a child. Whenever she comes across a tumbledown building, be it castle or cottage, she canât help conjuring up the lives of the people who once lived there. Her Yorkshire forebears were friendly with the Brontë sisters. Perhaps their influence lingers â¦
Carolâs love of ancient and medieval history took her to London University, where she read History, and her first novel (published by Mills & Boon>®) won the Romantic Novelistsâ Associationâs New Writersâ Award. Currently she lives near Kew Gardens, with her husband and daughter. Visit her website at www.caroltownend.co.uk
Previous novels by the same author:
THE NOVICE BRIDE
AN HONOURABLE ROGUE HIS CAPTIVE LADY RUNAWAY LADY, CONQUERING LORD HER BANISHED LORD BOUND TO THE BARBARIAN* CHAINED TO THE BARBARIAN*
*Part of Palace Brides trilogy
Did you know that some of these novels are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk
For me, the word Byzantium conjures images of an exotic medieval empire. It carries with it an aura of magic. Byzantium ⦠I loved learning about it at university, and enthusiastic teachers ensured that for me Byzantium lost none of its shimmer.
These books bring Byzantium alive:
Byzantium, the Surprising Life of a Medieval Empire by Judith Herrin (Penguin, 2008)
Byzantium by Robin Cormack and Maria Vassilaki (Royal Academy of Arts, 2008)
Fourteen Byzantine Rulers by Michael Psellus (Penguin, 1966)
The Alexiad of Anna Komnene translated by E.R.A. Sewter (Penguin, 1969)
Names can be tricky. Without being too rigid, I have used Greek versions of names where possible, and in a couple of cases I have shortened the names of real people.
âConstantinople,â Princess Theodora Doukaina murmured, staring into the dark over the shipâs guardrail. âAt last we are home.â She clutched her baby to her chest, angling her so that she might have her first glance of the city at the heart of the Empire. Martina was busy sucking a corner of her blanket, her gaze caught by the glow of a lamp nailed to the mast amidships. As Theodora shifted her, easing the blanket from her mouth, Martinaâs eyes tracked the lamp, not the City. Theodora sighed.
âMy lady, with your permission?â Sophia was hovering at her elbow and, as the galley rose on a gentle swell, she slipped a steadying arm under Theodoraâs cloak and wound it round her waist. The warmth of her lady-in-waitingâs body was welcome. It was not yet Easter and out on the Sea of Marmara the wind had bite. âPerhaps I should take the baby below?â
âNo. The sea is calm and I would like Martina to see the city.â
Above them, the night sky glistened with stars. Moonlight from a full moon washed over the deck, playing with the shadows of sailors preparing to lower the sail, stretching and shrinking them with the rise and fall of each wave. Over Constantinople itself, there was not a star to be seen, likely a bank of cloud lay over the City and was blotting them out.
The helmsmanâs voice rose sharply over the creak of timbers. âCaptain Brand!â
âMy pardon, ladies.â
The captain pushed past them, heading for the stern. Theodora barely noticed, she was staring hungrily across the water, throat tight. We are home. Home. Her mind was in turmoil. Fear, guilt, hopeâshe felt them all.
To the north, several lights were spaced out at intervals along a dark, indistinct skyline. That must be the palace wall, it was hard to see tonight. There were domed silhouettesâchurchesâglowing with an eerie radiance. Puzzled, Theodora stared at the domes; something was out of place, something was missing. She knotted her browâwhy could she not get her bearings? She knew the City like the back of her hand. Was that the Palace? She ought to know. Holy Mother, she should be able to see the Boukoleon Palace; the entrance to the Imperial harbour should be lit by the braziers on top of the towers, and a little to the right of that the dome of Hagia Sophia â¦
A gust of wind wrenched a strand of brown hair from her cloak hood. A chill went through her, a chill that had nothing to do with salt-laden sea breezes. There was something else in the air ⦠something that chilled more effectively than the wind, something other than salt. Theodoraâs skin prickled.