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‘No.’
‘Very well.’ Rachel stood and turned to leave. She counted the steps in her head and only got to four before Ameera’s voice burst through the silence.
‘That’s it?’ she asked. ‘You’re not going to force me to apologise?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘I’m not going to force you to apologise, Ameera.’ She continued walking to the door, stopping only when she was level with the Sheikh.
‘It’s a shame,’ she said, ‘but we tried.’
Rachel hoped the Sheikh would catch on and not spoil her little ruse.
‘We tried,’ he repeated, solemnly nodding his head.
Rachel had her hand on the door handle when she heard Ameera standing up.
‘Why is it a shame?’ she asked in a much-less-defiant voice than before.
‘Well, we’ve baked biscuits,’ Rachel said, ‘and your father was telling me how you love sweet things, so we thought we’d come in and give you the chance to apologise and come and join us once the biscuits are out of the oven.’
‘I can’t be bribed,’ the little Princess said in a voice that said she could quite easily be bribed.
‘And then there was the little excursion next week...’ Rachel let her sentence trail off. ‘Hakim will be ever so disappointed, but I can’t take your brothers and leave you here unsupervised.’
‘Excursion?’ Ameera asked.
Rachel nodded. ‘Hakim was so looking forward to it.’
She knew it was important to give Ameera a way to save face. The little girl had declared she would never apologise and now Rachel was asking her to go back on that. She needed a way to justify it to herself.
Ameera fiddled with a strand of hair for a moment, twisting it round her finger. Just as she’d planned, Rachel could smell the first wafts of the scent of biscuits baking.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ameera mumbled.
‘If you are going to apologise, Ameera, you need to do it properly, otherwise there’s no point in doing it at all.’
The little Princess looked up at her and took a deep breath.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Talbot, for being rude.’
Rachel smiled warmly. ‘Thank you for apologising, Ameera, it was very big of you.’
For a moment they stood looking at each other. Then Ameera launched herself across the room, and gave Rachel a quick hug. Rachel stroked the young girl’s hair and felt herself relax. Soon she would be able to start breaking down the walls these children had built to defend themselves from the pain of their mother’s death. Soon she would be able to start to help them heal. She glanced briefly at the Sheikh, who had remained silent throughout. He was watching the interaction between her and his daughter almost wistfully and Rachel wondered if he was the one who needed the most help to heal.
‘Why don’t you choose a book for story time, then go and find your brothers? We will test out the biscuits in ten minutes, I’ll bring them to the table in the courtyard.’
Rachel stepped outside, followed closely by the Sheikh. To her surprise he caught her by the upper arm and gently spun her to face him.
‘You were magnificent,’ he murmured, looking directly into her eyes.
Rachel mumbled something incomprehensible under her breath, not able to string a coherent sentence together with his rich brown eyes locked on hers.
He was still touching her upper arm and Rachel could feel the heat of his skin against hers through the thin cotton of her dress. She felt herself sway towards him ever so slightly and found herself wondering for the first time in her life what it would be like to kiss a man.
Rachel’s eyes flicked to his lips and she knew instantly what it would be like to kiss the Sheikh: sensuous and divine.
With a great effort she rallied. These thoughts were totally inappropriate. Not only was the Sheikh her employer, but she had sworn to herself long ago she would never let herself fall for a man and it would be all too easy to fall for the Sheikh. Sometimes his cool manner and distant demeanour irritated her, but she could already recognise the caring heart that beat under his icy façade.
Rachel stepped back, knowing she needed a little distance. Deep down she knew her attraction to this man was laughable really—he was royalty and she was the neglected daughter of a baron. Their gulf between their social statuses was so large it gaped before them, yet Rachel didn’t feel uneasy when the Sheikh was around. At least as long as he didn’t touch her and make her heart pound in her chest.
She had made her decision to always remain single and free years ago and she would not lose her head over this man who probably noticed her no more than he did his servants. Rachel had seen how love and relationships were more destructive than anything else. Her parents had always been somewhere in the cycle of vicious row or passionate reconciliation and Rachel knew she didn’t want that in her life. She would be quite content to see the world, focus on the children in her care and never fall in love in her life. She would just have to work on maintaining a safe distance from the Sheikh and his seductive eyes, whilst of course getting him more involved in his children’s lives.
‘I would like to take the children on a little excursion out of the palace next week,’ Rachel said, getting back to business.
‘That sounds a wonderful idea. I’m keen for all of them to appreciate this country as a whole and not just the luxurious life they lead behind these walls. I will arrange for an escort to accompany you.’
Rachel took a deep breath before she continued. She knew her next suggestion wasn’t going to help her maintain a safe distance from the Sheikh, but she also knew getting him involved with his children was more important than avoiding him because she felt a little tingle under her skin whenever he looked at her.
‘I think it would be so good for the children if you came with us.’
Rachel thought he would refuse outright, cite some important mediation or duty he had to attend to. To her surprise he seemed to deliberate her suggestion.
‘I’ll meet you out the front of the palace at nine o’clock Tuesday morning.’
They both seemed equally shocked by his agreement, but the Sheikh recovered first, giving a short bow and striding off, leaving Rachel to wonder what she had got herself into.
* * *
It was late before Rachel got any time to herself to sit down at the little writing desk in her room and lay out her paper and pen. She was an avid letter writer, and since arriving in Huria she had hardly had time to pen anything but short notes. But tonight she had decided to make time to write to her friends back in England, telling them about Huria, and maybe manage to get some of her thoughts straight at the same time.
It was times like these that she missed her parents. They had both died just over two years ago after contracting malaria on their travels. Despite not having a close relationship with them whilst she was growing up, Rachel had always wondered if things would have changed once she was an adult, once she was leading an interesting life of her own. She’d often imagined sending them postcards and letters whilst she was exploring the world, and when they were reunited for her parents to actually be interested in what she had been doing. Now she’d never know.
She started writing, addressing the top of the letters to Joanna, Isabel and Grace, her closest friends from the years she’d spent at Madame Dubois’s School for Young Ladies. The three girls were like family to her and Rachel had found that leaving them all behind had been the hardest part of leaving England. The only consolation was that they all had been moving on to take up positions as governesses at different locations.
In her letters she described the beautiful desert and the verdant oasis and the luxurious palace. She told her friends of the three children in her care and how they were now beginning to blossom and allow her into their world. She even began to write about the Sheikh, carefully thinking about the words before she put them to paper. Rachel had never kept secrets from her friends, but she found herself unwilling to say much on the subject of the Sheikh. Just thinking about him made her face feel hot, and hurriedly she moved on to other matters.
As she signed her name at the bottom of the letters Rachel felt a sudden sadness at being so far away from her three friends. They had always been there for each other throughout their time at school and now Rachel wished she could sit with the three girls on one of their beds and just talk about nothing and everything. She wanted to laugh at Isabel’s light-hearted exaggerations, pretend to be shocked at Grace’s latest act of rebellion and listen to Joanna’s quiet, soothing voice as she helped all three of her friends through their latest predicaments.
Rachel wondered how they were getting on in their new homes, whether they had been welcomed as they had all hoped and whether their employers were as infuriating and attractive as the cool, distant Sheikh. She worried about Grace’s situation the most. Whereas she, Joanna and Isabel had all set off to make lives for themselves as governesses, Grace had set off in search of her young daughter, the baby born in secret and who Grace had regretted giving up every moment since. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and wished Grace luck in her search, knowing her old friend would not be happy until she’d found her daughter.
Chapter Five (#ulink_c54a140f-ca05-5273-9d5f-b8ec0a5b70d9)
Malik wondered what he had got himself into for the hundredth time that morning. He had so many things he needed to do, decisions that needed making, disputes that needed settling, but instead he had agreed to spend the entire day with Miss Talbot and his children. The strangest thing was he was quite looking forward to it. Normally he avoided too much contact with his children. He had been raised by tutors and servants, seeing his father just once or twice a week, and he had turned out fine. He could remember the old man lecturing him on how children needed a firm hand and someone to look up to. He had cautioned Malik over becoming too involved in the day-to-day raising of the children, telling his son his first duty was to Huria and to set an example to the entire population. The fact that he sometimes caught himself wishing it was he his children ran to when they scraped their knees or he they wanted to read them a story at night was mere sentimentality and Malik knew he couldn’t let that interfere with running his kingdom. His duty was to the people of Huria and he had never once shirked his duty, but today he was going to allow himself to show his children the kingdom he was so proud of.
Malik strode out into the blazing sunlight and surveyed the scene. Miss Talbot and the children had not yet arrived, but the horses were ready and waiting, as was Wahid.
‘Nice day for an excursion,’ Wahid said with a grin.
Malik had known Wahid since he had been a boy. The swarthy man was a few years older than him, and when the old Sheikh had sent Malik to Europe to study, it had been Wahid who had accompanied him. Now Wahid was more than a bodyguard. As well as being head of security for the palace, he was the closest thing Malik had to a confidant. It was a lonely business being Sheikh, with no one to share decisions with and no one really to talk to, and Wahid seemed to recognise that.
Malik turned back towards the palace as he heard a stampede of feet and saw all three children bursting through the doors and out into the sunlight. Walking calmly behind them, seeming cool and in control, was the unshakeable Miss Talbot.
Malik watched her for a few seconds. The half-dozen Englishmen who had visited Huria at one time or another always seemed red in the face and sweaty. They spent half their time mopping their brows or exclaiming about the heat of the sun and the other half fanning themselves with whatever they could lay their hands on. Miss Talbot was different, she seemed to enjoy the heat, as she seemed to enjoy everything, and take pleasure from the sun. She never appeared flustered or hot and her crisp cotton dresses remained a brilliant white in colour, unstained by sweat or the sands of the desert. Malik didn’t know how she did it.
His gaze was drawn away from the governess by the sight of all three of his children stopping suddenly, mouths gaping open.
‘Father?’ Aahil said, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
Malik wasn’t quite sure what the question was, but smiled encouragingly at his children.
‘Come on and find your horses, we’ve got a busy day planned.’
None of the children moved.
‘You’re really coming with us?’ Ameera asked.
Malik nodded.
‘Really?’ Ameera persisted. ‘Miss Talbot said you were, but we didn’t believe her.’
Malik felt a stab of sadness at his daughter’s comment, but he understood his children’s incredulity. He loved Aahil, Ameera and Hakim, but he didn’t spend much time with them. Running the kingdom took so much of his time and energy and it wasn’t as if he had ever taken them on an excursion before.
‘Really. Now, who needs a hand mounting their horse?’
Malik knew in the year since his wife had died his children had most likely craved attention, but he had been too busy working through his own issues to even realise it. His children needed him, they needed him to give them the attention their mother once had and they needed him to help them understand her death, even if he didn’t quite understand it himself. Throughout their young lives Malik knew he had kept his distance from his children and, looking at their beautiful faces assembled in front of him, he felt a pang of regret. As a boy it had been drummed into him that his place was running the kingdom and his wife would bring up any children, but now his children needed him to do both. Malik wondered whether he was capable of shouldering the responsibility for both Huria and the children and felt the weight of responsibility pressing heavily on him.
Malik watched as Aahil expertly mounted his large grey horse and a stab of regret coursed through him. He didn’t know who had taught his son to ride, but it wasn’t he.
Ameera was next. She placed a foot in Malik’s hand and swung herself up on to the small mare that nuzzled her hand and preened under her touch.
All the while Hakim was standing with his hand firmly gripping Miss Talbot’s, looking more than a little terrified.
‘Hakim,’ Malik said softly.
His youngest son looked at him with tears in his eyes.
‘What’s the matter?’
Hakim looked down at his feet.
Malik took a step towards him uncertainly. He glanced up to see Miss Talbot smiling encouragingly and all of a sudden he knew what to do. Malik knelt down in the sand in front of his son’s feet and took the boy’s hands in his own. Carefully he reached up and brushed the tears from his son’s cheeks.
‘Do you know I was seven when I first learnt to ride?’ Malik said quietly.
Hakim’s eyes flicked to his for just a second before returning to his feet.
‘Before that I was rather scared of horses.’
Malik felt his heart soar as his son looked up again with an expression of doubtful hope on his face.
‘I never thought I would ever be able to ride like my father or my uncles.’
Malik watched as his son glanced at Miss Talbot. She smiled at him encouragingly and gently let go of his hand.
‘Maybe you’d like to ride with me today?’ Malik suggested. ‘And then next week we can choose a horse for you from the stables and I can teach you to ride.’
Malik surprised himself with the suggestion; he had never considered anything like it before. For a moment he felt a wave of panic and uncertainty, unsure whether his son might reject his offer, but before the feelings could take hold Hakim had launched himself into Malik’s arms and was already chattering about what horse he might like.
As he led the boy towards his huge black stallion, Malik caught Miss Talbot’s eye and saw the gleam of happiness there. He was inordinately pleased she cared so much for his children already and for a second wondered what it might be like to have her care for him in the same way.
Malik knew he had been blessed in life. He was Sheikh of this wonderful kingdom, he didn’t want for any of life’s necessities and he had three healthy children to carry on his line. He had once been married to one of the most beautiful women in Huria and time and time again other men had told him how lucky he was to have Aliyyah for his wife. But one thing he had never had was love. In childhood his father had cared for him in a distant kind of way, but never demonstrated any love, and his mother had died in childbirth. When he had married, Malik had done so to carry out his duty, not for love. Aliyyah had made her feelings on the matter quite clear and throughout their marriage he had never received a single look or touch laden with anything more than tolerance. Up until now Malik hadn’t ever really thought too much of love, or having someone else’s affections, but witnessing the way Miss Talbot looked at his children he wondered whether he was missing out.
Malik mounted his horse, bent down and pulled his son up in front of him. He could feel the small boy trembling slightly and Malik gently wrapped his arms around his son.
‘Here’s your first lesson,’ he said, knowing that encouraging Hakim to concentrate on learning how to ride would take away at least some of the fear. Malik reached around, picked up the reins and positioned them in his son’s hands. ‘You hold the reins loosely, like this, allowing the horse to feel like they have some freedom. When you want to direct them one way or another, a gentle movement is all it takes.’
He demonstrated how to guide the horse, then let Hakim have a go.
The last person to mount a horse was Miss Talbot, and for a moment Malik wondered whether she knew how to ride. The idea of having her up on his horse, nestled between his thighs, was rather too appealing and he felt a surge of disappointment as she expertly settled on to the back of a headstrong mare. Malik watched as she rearranged her skirts, managing to look as composed as always, and felt the first stirrings of desire as he glimpsed a flash of her smooth calf before her dress settled into position.
Pushing such inappropriate thoughts away, Malik did a quick check that everyone was safe and comfortable, then they moved away from the palace. He’d decided to take only Wahid with them, not a formal full bodyguard, so they could move at their own pace and enjoy the outing. Most people in the surrounding villages would probably recognise him and the royal children, but there was a slight hope of a little more freedom if they travelled without a full escort. Sometimes Malik craved anonymity; he wanted to wander this kingdom he was so proud of incognito and enjoy some of the delights of the common man.
‘This oasis is the largest in all of Huria,’ Malik said to Miss Talbot as she drew her horse alongside his. Already Ameera and Aahil were out in front of their little group, talking animatedly to Wahid, leaving Malik with his youngest son and the pretty, young Englishwoman for company. ‘When my ancestors became rulers of Huria they understood the most important resource for a desert kingdom was water. If you controlled the water you controlled the people.’
‘That’s why they built the palace around the oasis?’ Miss Talbot asked.
Malik loved the way her eyes shone with genuine interest, he knew that she wasn’t just asking the question to be polite.
‘They built this settlement around the oasis and they built strongholds around the other sources of water in Huria.’
Malik’s face darkened for a second as he thought of the less scrupulous of his ancestors, who had held the people of Huria hostage by withholding water over the centuries.
‘Nowadays water belongs to every man, woman and child equally,’ Malik said, ‘but at certain points in our history the less principled of my ancestors used our most precious resource to hold the citizens of this kingdom hostage and enforce their rule.’
‘Surely living in such an arid climate sometimes you have to ration the water so it does not run out completely.’
Malik was pleasantly surprised to see Miss Talbot take such an interest in his country. As he talked she listened to him attentively and did not let her concentration waver to other matters. It was rather enjoyable having someone to talk to who actually wanted to interact with him.
Although he and Aliyyah had been married for nine years he had never felt able to talk to his wife about anything other than routine matters. She had not once asked him about his plans for Huria, or wanted to discuss his wishes and dreams. Most of that indifference stemmed from the fact that she resented having to marry him. Malik had known her heart was lost to someone else long before they said their marriage vows, but he had never questioned his duty to marry her and assumed she had done the same. Once they had been married for two months and Aliyyah had only ever spoken the words yes, husband or no, husband, Malik had begun to suspect her feelings about their marriage did not mirror his own. He’d never expected love, but he’d hoped for pleasant companionship, a woman to be Shaykhah of the kingdom he loved so much. In the years that followed they had led completely separate lives, only coming together to fulfil the rest of their duty and conceive heirs to the throne of Huria.
He glanced again at Miss Talbot. She was the opposite of his late wife in so many ways. Whereas Aliyyah spent most of her life locked away in her rooms, Miss Talbot blossomed in the sunlight, and where Aliyyah’s default expression was the frown, Miss Talbot’s was a smile. It was refreshing to have someone so cheerful around the palace.
‘At times of drought we do ration the water, prioritising drinking water above all else. We’ve had some tough years, but thankfully nothing too terrible in my lifetime.’
Malik watched as she digested the information, considering what he had just said. He liked how he could see her different thoughts as her expression changed.
Malik sat back in his saddle and contemplated another way Miss Talbot was different to his late wife: he was attracted to her. He could not deny Aliyyah had been beautiful; she was admired by everyone. But there had been no spark between her and Malik, no fire, no passion. Miss Talbot was a different matter. She was passionate about everything and her self-confidence and happy demeanour made her glow. Malik had found himself trying to catch glimpses of her over the past few days, wanting to see her as she walked across the courtyard or shielded her eyes from the sun. Although they disagreed on many aspects of how to raise his children, Malik loved the fire in her eyes when they argued and her determination to convince him she was right. All of these things made her attractive, qualities Malik had never paid attention to in anyone else, but when Miss Talbot looked him in the eye and smiled that genuinely happy smile, he couldn’t deny the rise in his body temperature or the desire that flared inside him.
* * *
