The Vizier looked her up and down in a manner that she felt was not only degrading but distasteful.
Then he said in French,
“You may kneel down while I tell you why I have brought you here.”
There was a pause before Malva retorted,
“I do not kneel, except to my God.”
As she was speaking, she noticed at once that the two women stiffened.
The Vizier stared at her as if he was surprised.
“I should be most grateful,” Malva said, “if Your Excellency will tell me why I have been brought here. You must be aware that my brother will be looking for me and will be extremely annoyed that I have been smuggled away from his yacht.”
She was speaking in French but slowly and with a tremendous effort, proudly hoping that the Vizier would have no idea that her heart was pounding with fear.
For a moment he did not speak.
Then he said,
“Because you are French you may sit down at my table.”
There was a cushion at the side of the table.
Malva moved to it slowly, sitting down in a manner which she thought would tell him without words that she was defiant and not afraid of him.
At the same time her heart was still pounding in her breast.
It was difficult for her to speak slowly and in a dignified manner.
The two women, who were still kneeling in front of the Vizier, peeped at her with puzzled eyes.
“My brother,” Malva said again, “will now be out looking for me.”
“But then he will not find you,” the Vizier replied, “because I am now giving you the privilege of being in my harem.”
“I cannot understand why you should expect me to be pleased at this happening to me,” she countered. “You must be aware that until I marry I belong to my brother. Any request for ownership should be made to him.”
“You are someone I definitely will appreciate,” the Vizier went on, “because golden-haired women are not easy to find.”
“My brother will doubtless bring in the Police to search for me,” Malva answered breathlessly, “as well as notifying the Ambassador that I am missing.”
She thought as she spoke there was just a flicker of surprise on the Vizier’s face as if he was not aware that the Frenchman who had visited him was of any particular rank, except, of course, that he was rich enough to own a yacht.
Although she was sitting at the Vizier’s table and he had food on a plate in front of him, she was offered nothing, not even some wine to drink.
The two women who had brought her were still kneeling on the floor.
“You are young, you are beautiful and you are fair-haired,” the Vizier said slowly, as if he was convincing himself. “And I am very delighted to have you.”
“I have no wish to belong to you,” Malva said, “and I can only warn you that the trouble you have caused in kidnapping me will not only be the talk of this Continent but also in France when they learn of it.”
She was speaking proudly and her head was held high.
Equally it was hard to say the words even when they came to her mind.
She was also aware that while she was clasping her hands together her fingers were trembling.
Then, as she finished speaking, she was aware that the Vizier was frowning.
He had been holding a glass of wine in his hand and now he put it down.
Clenching his fingers he brought his fist down hard on the table.
“You will do as I tell you!” he shouted angrily.
The words came tumbling from his lips.
“You are my prisoner and you are belong to me. I don’t want to hear any more of your rudeness.”
His voice seemed to echo round the room.
As he finished speaking, there was absolute silence as if the furniture in the room as well as the women and servants listening were intimidated by the Vizier’s anger.
Malva drew in her breath.
She knew that she was banging her head against a closed door.
However much she had defied him, she was in the Vizier’s power.
With a tremendous effort she managed to reply,
“If you are brave enough to break all the rules of hospitality and to defy the French Government who will be very shocked by this, there is nothing more I can say.”
For a moment the Vizier just glared at her.
Then he said,
“You are not important enough for the French to make trouble. France is full of beautiful women and if one is lost in the desert who will count her footsteps.”
“My brother is a very influential man in business,” Malva managed to reply. “He has also travelled a great deal and is well known in very many countries, especially in England. Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, would be really horrified at my being taken prisoner by you.”
She spoke slowly and with a dignity that made the Vizier stare at her almost in astonishment.
“You say your brother is important,” he said after a pause. “Why should I believe that? He is just Monsieur, he has no title. All the French who are important have a title.”
With a great effort Malva gave a little laugh.
“But, of course, you would not understand that if my brother uses his title and he does have one, wherever we go we are given important luncheon and dinner parties. We have to waste our time, when we want to be alone resting, in attending many functions and meeting numerous people we have no particular interest in.”
The Vizier stared at her.
“I don’t believe you,” he snapped.
“Then why should you when all we wish for is to be anonymous?” she replied. “We want to enjoy a holiday without the pomp and ceremony which we have to endure all the time.”
She saw that the Vizier was listening and she went on,
“I am warning you that there will be a tremendous uproar when it is found that I am missing. It will not be difficult for my brother to guess that you are the thief who has stolen me away from him.”
“Nonsense! All lies! You are not telling me the truth,” the Vizier stormed. His words seemed to echo and re-echo around the room.
Malva was aware that the two women kneeling in front of him had lowered their heads with fear.
The servants, who had left the room when she first came in, now were joined by others and were peeping in through the door as if they could hardly believe the noise they were hearing.
Then unexpectedly a door near to where the Vizier was sitting was flung open.
A servant announced,
“A visitor, Your Excellency, from His Highness the Sultan has just arrived.”
Every head in the room was turned to the door.
A man came in dressed in the ceremonial robes of an Eastern Potentate.
On his head he was wearing a cap glittering with jewels. At his waist there was a long bejewelled dagger that proclaimed his rank even more than the medals which were round his neck.
His hair, or what could be seen of it, was very dark and his moustache, which curled over the sides of his lips, was black and gave the impression of being greasy.
He advanced slowly towards the Vizier, who rose to his feet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I come,” the visitor said in a deep gravelly voice, “from his Highness the Sultan to ask of Your Excellency, a very great favour.”
The Vizier looked at him in surprise.
Then he said,
“You have not told me who you are.”
“I am the Chief Eunuch of His Highness’s harem.”
Listening Malva guessed that he must be the Head and Controller of it.
And she wondered why this ornate man should be calling at this hour on the Vizier.
But she was so terrified of her own position that she could think of nothing else except that the newcomer broke the rising tension, at least for a time, between herself and the Vizier.
As if he realised that he was not quite as important as he thoug
ht he was at first, the Vizier then sat down and indicated with a snap of his fingers that the servants should bring the newcomer a chair.
They hurried to do so.
But the Chief Eunuch stood where he was, saying,
“I am asking in the Sultan’s name, if you will let me have for this evening’s party, which he is giving to a number of distinguished visitors, the fair-haired concubine you have just taken into your Palace.”
The Vizier stared at him.
Then he asked,
“How can His Highness know of such things? She only arrived today.”
The Chief Eunuch laughed.
“Stories, as Your Excellency well knows, travel in the desert on the wind. When my Master heard of your discovery, he was very anxious for her to take part in the parade that is taking place tonight for his visitors. All his concubines are splendidly dressed and will take part. But, alas, there is not one of them with fair golden hair.”
The Vizier laughed.
“So for once I have more concubines here at my Palace than His Highness has at his!”
“He promises to return her tomorrow,” the Eunuch said. “But it will make all the difference if he can show her tonight amongst his own collection which you are well aware is very much envied.”
The Vizier laughed again.
There was silence until the Chief Eunuch added,
“Time is getting on. Although I have fast horses, it is quite a way, as Your Excellency knows, to the Sultan’s Palace.”
The Vizier was biting one of his finger nails and looking at Malva.
She felt herself tremble at the aggressive expression in his eyes.
Then the Chief Eunuch said,
“I beg of you don’t make me return to His Highness with an empty carriage. You know how demanding he can be and he has set his heart on showing his friends that there is one golden concubine amongst all the dark ones.”
The Vizier gave a laugh that had no humour in it.
“Very well then, but she is to remain untouched and returned to me tomorrow. Is that understood?”
“I feel sure that looking at the concubine of whom you are speaking, that His Highness will understand your feelings and your wish will be respected. She will be back with you by this time tomorrow evening.”
“And untouched and unharmed?” the Vizier snarled questioningly.
The Chief Eunuch bowed as he said,
“You are very very generous, Your Excellency, and it is something His Highness will not forget.”
The Vizier snapped his fingers.
Those servants, who had been listening attentively to what was being said, hurried to bring a wrap across the room. It was of a deep shade of pink.
As Malva knew that it was for her, she rose from her seat and let them envelop her in the silk wrap.
There was a heavy silence as the servants covered her completely, leaving only her face showing.
They must have felt her trembling as their hands passed over her.
As the Chief Eunuch bowed again to the Vizier, he said,
“Your gracious gift and your acquiescence to His Highness’s demand will not be forgotten.”
“I would indeed hope not,” the Vizier replied, “for you have spoilt my evening and my night.”
The Eunuch gave a laugh and added,
“You know, as well as I do, Your Excellency, that whatever we may feel the Sultan must always be obeyed at whatever inconvenience we ourselves suffer personally.”
“There you speak the truth,” the Vizier answered. “Be quite certain that this precious belonging of mine is returned to me uninjured.”
“To hear is to obey,” the Chief Eunuch said.
Having bowed his head politely, he walked to the door without even a glance at the wrapped figure behind him.
Because it was difficult to walk, two men picked up Malva and carried her.
As they went outside, the sun was setting and it was still not dark.
There was an exceedingly large and fine-looking carriage drawn by four horses waiting outside.
The drivers were wearing fantastic livery and the carriage itself was also decorated in gaudy colours.
It was not surprising that a crowd of people from the village were staring at it with admiration.
When the Chief Eunuch appeared in all his finery, they cheered him and clapped their hands.
They also looked with surprise and astonishment at the fact that he was taking away one of the women who they knew belonged to the Vizier.
The Chief Eunuch climbed into the carriage first.
The two men who had carried Malva placed her on the back seat beside him.
When he gave them money for their attention, they thanked him profusely before the doors were closed and the man driving the four horses leapt into the driving seat.
The carriage began to move.
It was only as they drove on out of earshot of the Palace that the Chief Eunuch pulled off his moustache and said in a very different voice from the one that he had used when addressing the Vizier,
“Now, my darling, you are free!”
For a moment Malva could only stare at him.
Then in the light from the sky she saw, although it seemed incredible, that it was Royden who was sitting next to her.
She gave a cry of astonishment.
Then, throwing herself against him, she burst into tears.
“It is you, it is you.” she cried. “I thought I would never see you again. How could you be so clever? I could not look at you because I was so afraid of what you were saying.”
Royden pulled off his jewelled cap and his wig and flung them on the floor and then he drew her close to him.
“It is all right, my precious,” he said. “It has been a horrid experience, I know, but I saved you and this will never happen again.”
Because she was still crying against his shoulder, Malva did not look up.
At the same time, as he pushed away the silk wrap, his arms went round her and she hid her face closer against his neck.
“I thought that – you would never – be able to save me,” she sobbed.
“How could I do anything else? If I had had to burn down the Palace and kill the Vizier myself, I would have done so. But, as it is you are free, my darling.”
“Is it really true – I am safe?” Malva asked.
She looked up wide-eyed at him as she spoke.
Then his lips came down on hers.
He kissed her at first very gently and then more passionately.
His arms tightened around her until it was difficult for her to breathe.
Only when they had travelled for quite some way did Royden raise his head to say,
“Did you really think I would leave you with that devil?”
“But – how did you find me?” she managed to ask.
“Fortunately a seaman who was on duty and who, of course, had been asleep, saw you at the last moment as they carried you up the pathway. He roused me, but I was too late. But I knew what had happened and cursed myself because I was so stupid in taking you to see a man who would appreciate the fact that you had fair hair in a land where all the women are dark.”
“But you saved me – and I was trying to think of how I could – kill myself before he touched me.”
Royden’s arms tightened.
“No man will ever touch you except me and I will kill anyone who tries to do so,” he asserted fervently.
He kissed her again before she could reply.
Because his kisses were a force that she felt moved her heart from her breast into his, she could for a moment think of nothing.
Now the horses were moving over the rather bumpy stones.
It was Heaven, she thought, to be close in Royden’s arms and to feel that she was safe at last.
Safe from the dreadful Vizier and the horror of what he intended for her.
As Royden raised his lips from hers, he exclaimed,
“You are mine! Mine, my
precious darling Malva, and no man will ever touch you.”
As if she had suddenly woken to what was really happening to her, Malva stared at him although it was hard to see his face clearly.
In a whisper he could hardly hear, she asked him,
“Are you saying that you love me?”
“I love you with all my heart and soul,” he replied, “and it is something I thought would never happen to me. When I knew that devil had taken you from me, I realised at once that I was losing everything that had ever mattered to me.”
“You really love me?” Malva asked him again in an incredulous whisper.
“I have loved you for a long time,” he answered, “but I fought against it because you had been so positive in saying that you could never love me.”
“I loved you too,” Malva murmured, “but I would not even admit it to myself, thinking that when we returned home to England you would leave me and I would never be able to love anyone else for the rest of my life.”
Royden smiled.
“I know exactly what you were feeling and I was feeling the same. That was why I kept complete control of myself until I realised that you had been stolen from me.”
He paused before he went on,
“Then I realised I was losing the only thing which really mattered in my life. You are the only person I have ever really loved with my whole heart.”
Malva gave a little cry.
“Oh, my darling, wonderful Royden. Is that really – true?”
“I swear to you that all the nonsense I talked about never loving anyone in my life and never getting married had vanished from me before we reached Gibraltar. These last days I have been fighting against my feelings because I believed that you did not care for me.”
“I love you, I love you, “Malva whispered. “When they took me away and I knew that horrible Vizier would try to make me his, I was wondering just – how I could kill myself before he could touch me.”
Royden’s arms closed round her.
“You are not going to die, my darling,” he said. “We are going to live together and be so happy that no one will ever dare lay a finger on you.”
There was a tremor in his voice which told her how much he had suffered when he realised that she had been taken from him.
“I love you, I love you with all my heart,” she said. “But I thought, as you had sworn never to marry anyone, that you would never love me.”
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