Raised by an indulgent father, educated beyond the standards of most men, granted not only the normal freedom of her wealth and position but the additional prerogatives her scholarship allowed, Lisaveta had lived a life distinguished for its independence.

She would rather die than be trapped in a harem.

"I would have had to leave within the month anyway, to attend the Tsar's ceremony in Saint Petersburg honoring Father's work," she said prosaically. "And the siege of Kars has been lifted, Faizi said. Now should be an excellent time to travel, since there's a lull in hostilities between Turkey and Russia. It's only ten hours," she added in defense of her position.

"The area is still alive with troops."

"I'll travel at night."

"The irregular cavalry raids at night. It's in their blood."

"Javad," Lisaveta said very softly, "I wish to leave, for maybe incomprehensible reasons-but I cannot stay."

Javad Khan was very tall, and the straight fall of his silk robes accentuated his height. He gazed down at her for a long moment. "Then you'll need an escort," he said into the quiet of the room. "And my best horses." He smiled. "And Allah's prayers."

Lisaveta grinned back, relieved and strangely elated. There was pleasure in taking action. "Thank you," she said.

His dark eyes beneath his white brows were amused. She'd always been a headstrong young girl, but maybe that was a portion of her charm. "You'll need some peasant clothes," he continued, his own grin matching hers. "If you look like that-" he indicated her gaily flowered summer frock and dainty blue slippers "-you'll be captured two miles down the road… for someone else's harem."

Chapter One

Russia, Transcaucasia

Hell would have been an improvement.