‘You are not one of my subjects, Julia, this is not an audience. I have not forgotten my promise to help you.’
Because she had clung to his sleeve and begged him not to do so. Julia’s toes curled and her cheeks heated at the memory. ‘I embarrassed you in front of your subjects. When I awoke this morning, I was mortified to have behaved with so little decorum.’
‘I should have given you some warning of what was to come. It was unfair of me.’
‘A little,’ she agreed, ‘but honestly, Azhar, it was obvious that you were finding your return difficult enough, without having to explain yourself to a troublesome Englishwoman.’
‘Cornish woman,’ Azhar said with a small smile. ‘You see, I do remember.’
And he was once again turning the subject. Julia hesitated, but she might never get another chance to talk to him alone. ‘And I distinctly remember you saying that you had sworn never to return to Qaryma. And yet, here you are.’
Azhar shook his head. ‘It is true, I am not here by choice. When I left Qaryma I thought it was for ever, but it appears my father had different ideas. Despite our many differences, he chose not to disinherit me when he died three months ago.’
‘So that was what you meant yesterday, when you said you were here at the behest of a dead man.’ Impulsively, Julia slid off her chair to kneel by his, taking his hand between hers. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘To return under such tragic circumstances must be very painful indeed.’
Stiffening, Azhar withdrew his hand. ‘My father and I were estranged. I do not require your pity.’
Her cheeks flaming, Julia scrambled to her feet. ‘It was not pity I offered, but sympathy. Whatever these many differences there were between you, this palace, this city, this whole kingdom must be full of memories. I would find it extremely painful, but I am a mere mortal. I expect princes are immune to such human emotions.’
She waited for inevitable rebuke, but when Azhar got to his feet he neither stalked off nor summarily ordered her to leave the garden. ‘Yesterday, when we arrived, I half-expected my father to appear at the gates and forbid me entry,’ he confessed. ‘Last night, when they made me take his ceremonial place at dinner it felt—I had to stop myself looking over my shoulder. He was such a very powerful presence, it’s difficult to believe that he’s no longer here.’ He caught her arm, turning her around to face him. ‘Though he died three months ago, to me he has been dead for ten years, but the memories, the ghosts of the past, they linger. You were quite right about those. They are—I find them disconcerting.’
‘Goodness! A prince who is neither infallible nor immune to feelings.’
Azhar smiled faintly. ‘Only immune to certain feelings. Is it possible for you to ignore the fact that I am a prince?’
‘You’re not only a prince but a crown prince.’ Julia wrinkled her brow. ‘And a sheikh, you said. While your brother—he is also a prince and a sheikh? It is very confusing.’
‘Not half so confusing or complicated as your British system is, as far as I understand it—or don’t,’ Azhar said. ‘Sheikh is simply an honorary title given to a man of influence and high rank. As the King’s sons Kamal and I are Princes. As the first born I am Crown Prince. And as the person my father chose to implement his will when he was no longer able, Kamal is also Regent.’
‘So you wish me to forget that you are a sheikh and a prince and a crown prince and soon to be King? That is a lot to forget,’ Julia said ruefully. ‘Will I be permitted to speak my mind without worrying about being cast in a dungeon?’
Azhar’s smile broadened. ‘I doubt even the threat of a dungeon would prevent you from speaking your mind. You are a most extraordinary woman.’
‘Singular and now extraordinary. I am flattered.’
‘To speak the truth is not flattery. I have never met anyone like you.’
‘If you speak any more of these truths, I shall leave Qaryma with a swollen head.’
‘For a woman who has travelled alone halfway across the world, who has taken on a task which would have sent almost anyone else—man or woman—running in the opposite direction, who has dealt with being robbed, and drugged, and carried off by a complete stranger to a remote kingdom she’s never even heard of, you have a remarkably low opinion of yourself. Your husband has a lot to answer for since I suspect it was he who gave you your low expectations.’
‘Don’t you think that it is rather that my husband expected a lot of me?’
‘Your husband certainly made a lot of assumptions. Whether he thought through the implications of what he demanded from you on his deathbed...’
‘No, he didn’t. That is very obvious to me now.’ Julia rested her hands on the terrace parapet, gazing out into the garden. ‘The other night, the things I said about Daniel—I hadn’t given voice to them before. I hadn’t even realised I’d harboured some of those thoughts. I must have sounded quite—uncaring. I’m not. I did care for Daniel. I respected him, and I did love him. I think he loved me too, in his own way, only not as much as he loved his work. His precious book. Which I do resent a little.’ She grimaced. ‘More than a little. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.’
‘Perhaps because we met under such unusual circumstances.’
‘Perhaps. Certainly all of this, you, the palace, the city, it feels quite unreal. Perhaps it is because our paths have crossed only fleetingly.’
‘Perhaps.’ Azhar joined her at the parapet. ‘Julia, are you quite set on returning to the desert to finish your task?’
‘Of course I am. It’s what I came here for,’ she replied, perplexed that he should have thought to ask such a question. ‘Oh, are you concerned that I’ll outstay my welcome? You need have no such fear. I know I behaved inappropriately last night, clinging to your sleeve and—and—but I very much appreciate that your time is precious. All I require are a few camels and a guide, and I’ll be on my way. If you would be so good as to exchange some of my banknotes for local coin, I can purchase all that I need. My notes are for imperial pounds, obviously, but as a trader, I am sure it will be easy enough for you to reuse them in a business transaction. I will need drawing materials too, and watercolours. And some clothes. I am determined to purchase something more suitable to wear. But I am sure all of that can be done in a matter of a day, maybe two, so—’ She broke off, for she was beginning to sound as if she protested far too much. ‘So you see,’ she concluded lamely, ‘I won’t be a burden to you for much longer.’
‘You are not a burden to me, as you put it. I am not at all concerned that you will outstay your welcome. On the contrary, you are welcome to remain here in the palace for as long as necessary.’
‘Thank you, but I really couldn’t—my plants, and drawings, and then there’s the issue of my travel papers.’
‘Your papers are hardly an issue. Obviously, I have the authority to grant you permission to remain here for as long as you require.’
‘Obviously.’ Julia rolled her eyes. ‘I forgot.’
‘You forgot,’ Azhar repeated, an arrested look on his face. ‘Good! I hope you can continue to forget my status. Can you do that, do you think? No, wait, don’t answer yet. Come with me. I have a proposition for you.’
* * *
It was not at all what he’d had in mind when he summoned her to the garden, but the idea forming in his head made a great deal of sense. Azhar led Julia down from the terrace on to one of the winding paths through the lime grove. ‘This is the largest of the palace gardens, but there are numerous others. In addition to the extraordinary irrigation system you mentioned, I am sure we have any number of plants unique to this part of the desert. I do not pretend to your expertise, but I could arrange for you to talk to our Head Gardener.’
‘I don’t speak Arabic, Azhar, and...’
He waved his hand dismissively. ‘A translator could be arranged.’
They were at the boundary wall, looking hundreds of feet down to the swathe of green which was the Al-Qaryma oasis. The vie
w was more stunning than Azhar remembered. He turned to see his own wonder reflected on Julia’s face. Water almost turquoise blue, green so vibrant it was emerald, neat fields of crops, fruit trees, and then, as if someone had drawn an invisible wall, the sharp delineation which marked the start of the desert, the sands palest gold and silver in the late morning light, smooth and flat before giving way to rising dunes, rocky outposts.
‘It is terrifyingly beautiful,’ Julia said softly.
‘Terrifying?’
‘Nature at its most beautiful and most lethal. It is like standing on the edge of one of those lakes in Switzerland, so blue and so calm and so deep and so dangerous. You have the overwhelming urge to plunge in, even though you know the cold will kill you. This desert—your desert—it makes me want to walk into it and keep walking. You probably think I’m being ridiculously fanciful.’
‘No. I would not have put it in those words, but they are exactly how I feel about Qaryma. Terrifyingly beautiful.’
‘You have missed it, haven’t you? Despite what you said, I think you have missed it dreadfully.’
It was true that once upon a time this land and these people had been precious to him. He had loved this kingdom that he had been born and raised to rule, had never questioned his duty or his ultimate destiny. Until he had left, and taken his destiny into his own hands. He had turned his back and hardened his heart. It would be folly to let loose his hold on that hard-won protective shield, a shield which guarded his equally hard-won independence. ‘No,’ Azhar said firmly, ‘I have not missed it.’
Julia looked sceptical. ‘I find that very difficult to believe. Look at all this,’ she said. ‘It is utterly beautiful and all of it is yours.’
‘I have been to many places in the world just as beautiful.’
‘As have I, but only Cornwall is my home, Azhar. What is so wrong in admitting to an emotional attachment to the place you were born and raised, which is an integral part of you?’
Her words, echoing his own thoughts made him uncomfortable. ‘I have no home,’ Azhar said stubbornly.
‘You do now, Your Highness.’
It was her tone as much as her words that made his hackles rise. ‘How dare you...?’
‘...point out the truth to you, a prince?’ Julia folded her arms and glowered at him. ‘Go on, then, call the guards and have me charged with treason, though I should warn you that I shall have no hesitation in using your royal command to forget that you are a prince in my defence. Your case will be thrown out of court.’
Not for the first time, Azhar was startled into laughter. ‘I doubt it somehow, since the court answers to me, but I must commend you most sincerely, madam, for so effectively implementing my royal command.’
Julia dropped a small curtsy. ‘Thank you.’
She did not retract her words, and she did not apologise for them. Unpalatable as some of her thoughts might be, he could trust her to speak her mind, which was exactly what he needed from her. ‘How long would it take you, do you think, to complete your work here?’
She shook her head, confused by the sudden change in subject. ‘I don’t know. I was almost finished. Perhaps a month, if I can locate the right specimens.’
A month. A month was more than sufficient to put any qualms he had to rest. Kamal lacked experience, perhaps judgement also. He was weak, he had always been weak, but that was because he had never been required to be strong. A month would give Azhar ample opportunity to assess the state of the kingdom, to address his brother’s weaknesses and provide him with some guidance, thus ensuring that he could leave Qaryma in safe hands and with a clear conscience.
Though another month was a long time to be away from his business empire. He had left his agent to keep it ticking over, but he had never granted the man more than cursory authority. Azhar loved the cut and thrust of bargaining and barter. He loved the risks and the danger in some of the far-flung places he travelled to. He loved the thrill when a deal paid off, and he even relished the deals that did not, for the challenges they created. He loved it all, that life far from here, bounded only by his own ambition. He would miss it, but it would survive without him for another month. One more month, that was all it would take, he was sure of it. Then he would claim his freedom, escape this gilded cage, and in the process, help Julia to claim her freedom too. It was a most excellent plan.
‘A month,’ Azhar said, smiling at her. ‘Excellent. We are agreed, then?’
‘Agreed as to what?’ she asked blankly.
Azhar was not a man given to indecision. One of the keys to his success in business was his ability to act quickly. Yet his instincts this morning had been not to act hastily and to buy himself some time. The relief of understanding why, and of coming up with a strategy to achieve it, was immense. Though in his excitement, he realised, he hadn’t actually explained himself. ‘That you will stay here as my honoured guest,’ he elucidated. ‘With unfettered access both to the gardens and the kingdom at large, you should be able to gather all the specimens you need. Further, that you will allow me to be your personal guide.’
Julia’s jaw dropped. ‘But how can you—I mean, won’t you be far too busy being a prince? The people will expect...’
‘I will leave Kamal in charge temporarily. Escorting you around Qaryma will allow me to become reacquainted with both my kingdom and my people, while at the same time allowing you to document our flora.’
‘That is a very generous and, I have to say, most unexpected offer, Azhar. I can’t imagine why you would wish to devote so much time to me when you have many much more important matters to occupy your time.’
She meant it, too. What kind of a man had her husband been, to be so unappreciative of his wife! ‘It will be a very useful exercise, not to say educational experience, for me to view my—this kingdom through your eyes. All I ask in return is that you share your insights with me in your own inimitable way.’
‘Even if they are not complimentary?’
‘Especially if they are not complimentary.’ She was frowning again. He wished she would not put quite so much effort into evaluating his words. There were some questions he would prefer she did not ask. ‘What do you think, do we have a bargain, Julia?’
But Julia was not to be harried into agreeing anything. ‘For a successful trader, it seems to me you are sealing a very one-sided bargain. As far as I can see, the profit would be all mine.’
‘Not when one factors in the value of your delightful company.’
She laughed, but shook her head. ‘I’m serious. You realise you are offering me far beyond what I could have achieved with only Hanif as a guide? To my knowledge, this desert is further south than any Western botanist has travelled. It will ensure Daniel’s book is quite unique.’
Not an objective he had in mind, or even cared to achieve, but Azhar held his tongue. ‘Then you will have discharged your pledge to him with added interest,’ he said instead.
His reward was a beaming smile. ‘You really do understand. Thank you, Azhar. Thank you very much.’ Julia’s smile turned mischievous. ‘I am extremely grateful, and in return I promise that I will endeavour to be as rude, as critical, and as honestly disrespectful of this beautiful kingdom and its ruler as I can possibly manage. In my own particular way, of course.’
Chapter Four
Julia rubbed her eyes, pushed back the bedsheets and sat up. The divan was positioned on a central podium under an elaborate fretwork canopy supported by four intricately carved wooden pillars. Her bedchamber was ostentatiously decorated, the walls covered in embossed panels depicting delightful scenes of lush vegetation, colourful birds and other exotic animals. The stained-glass window set into the centre of the sloping roof filtered a soft, dappled light into the room, the colours dancing on the pale marble floor, which was deliciously cool under her feet. It was very early, but she was far too excited to sleep, for today she was to leave the palace with Azhar for the first time.
He had sent word last night, confirm
ing what they had agreed two days ago in the garden. He must have briefed the body of elders he referred to as Council yesterday on his proposed plan of action. She found it somewhat baffling that someone as manifestly self-reliant as Azhar would permit another to make decisions on his behalf, even if the person concerned was his brother, who had apparently been in temporary power throughout the period of their father’s illness. It seemed odd that the dying Sheikh had not sent for his heir sooner. They had been estranged, Azhar had said. Meaning, he could not—or would not—return to Qaryma while his father, the King, lived? He had expected to be disinherited, that much he had admitted. Had he then assumed that his brother would inherit? It was a reasonable enough assumption. She knew of many examples among the English aristocracy where second sons fell heir for all sorts of reasons. And Azhar’s brother, would he too have assumed that he would become King? Julia knew nothing of the laws and customs of this kingdom, but it was likely, surely, that he would think so, especially since Azhar had been absent for so very long.
Ten years. So much would have changed in the intervening period. She supposed it did make sense for Azhar to take time to take stock before assuming power. It would also allow time for his brother to become accustomed to the idea of having to step down. Julia grimaced. It was unfair of her to judge, given she’d been in the man’s company only a matter of moments, but she had taken an instant dislike to Kamal. He did not appear to her to be a man who would take kindly to being effectively deposed. The whole situation read like a fairy tale, the handsome Prince returning after ten years in the wilderness to oust his evil brother from the throne. Not that Kamal really was evil. Just a little repellent.
Julia smiled to herself. It wasn’t like her to let her imagination run riot. But then again, she wasn’t exactly in the habit of waking up in a private suite in a royal palace. She had never, in all her travels, nor even in books, seen anything so opulent. Or so beautiful. Padding across the bedchamber, she slid back the door which led to her sitting room. With triple aspect floor-to-ceiling windows, the glass panes set in delicate wrought-iron frames, light flooded in and made it the perfect place for her to work.
The Widow And The Sheikh (Hot Arabian Nights, Book 1) Page 6
