The Secret of the Sheikh's Betrothed

by Felicitas Ivey

  Grandfather sputtered, and Fathi felt sorry for him.

  “I know you’re trying your best. However, this isn’t the same time as you grew up,” Fathi said gently. “There are still arranged marriages, but things are a little more casual than when you got married. The bride and groom will meet and talk to each other and decide if they suit. When you didn’t mention either one of us was contracted to someone, we thought you wanted us to have a love match. I’m not begging out of the marriage. I just wanted this to be comfortable for Ikraam and me.”

  This wasn’t the time to tell Grandfather he was gay. One crisis at a time. And that didn’t mean Ikraam wouldn’t be married. It just meant Rayyan would get even more involved in this mess, because he might become the default groom.

  Grandfather stayed silent, looking at both of them thoughtfully. Fathi took a deep breath and continued, “So I went to introduce myself and talk to her.”

  “You met with her unchaperoned?” Grandfather growled.

  “You should mention the leopard in the room,” Rayyan said.

  “Is that an American expression I’m supposed to know?” Grandfather asked.

  “No,” Fathi said. “Ikraam has a leopard in the harem. Or he has her. The cat followed her here, in any event. I arranged for some stock to be brought out for it to hunt.”

  “That was where the leopard came in,” Rayyan said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

  “It can eat some of the goats intended for the wedding,” Grandfather assured him. He chuckled again. “Ikraam sounds like she’s spirited. I will enjoy having her as my granddaughter-by-marriage.”

  “I didn’t even think of it,” Fathi confessed. “I knew there were three women in there, so Ikraam would be able to call someone to her and make it all proper when I was there. Or I would have left if she wanted me to, but she was willing to talk to me.”

  “You are so Western,” Grandfather muttered, while gesturing him to continue.

  Fathi took a sip of tea to wet his lips, his throat dry, because he hated disappointing Grandfather like he had. However, this wasn’t the twentieth century before the country had modernized under European tyranny. And Grandfather had to know that.

  “Ikraam was in the living area, petting Saumer,” Fathi said.

  “Saumer?” Grandfather and Rayyan chorused.

  “The leopard’s name is Saumer,” Fathi explained. “We both agreed he was a good chaperone. But since she wasn’t expecting anyone, Ikraam was unveiled. She talked to me for a little while with her back to me. In addition, after a couple of minutes, her niece, Sabah, showed up. She sounds very young. I didn’t see her face either, because she noticed me there and hid it before turning her back to me. After a couple of minutes they both put on veils. I never saw either lady’s face, and we were all properly chaperoned. Their honor is still intact.”

  “Like a proper woman should,” Grandfather said. “But I had promised Hashim the harem would be inviolate to men.”

  Fathi frowned. “He’s been lying to you since he got here.” Grandfather opened his mouth, but Fathi talked over him. “That doesn’t make anything I did any better. But Ikraam doesn’t even seem to have a decent set of clothing, never mind a dowry.”

  “The chest looks like an antique,” Rayyan said thoughtfully.

  “I’m not taking her things,” Fathi snapped. “Hashim’s being an ass, and from what Ikraam and Sabah said and didn’t say, his wife isn’t much better. Both of them were frightened of her.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Grandfather protested.

  “Ikraam’s dressed in rags,” Fathi reminded him.

  “You think a sheikh’s daughter would dress so meanly?” Grandfather chuckled, suddenly amused at Fathi’s adventure. “She is obviously a servant, pretending to be your betrothed.”

  “If there had been more than three women in the group, I might believe that,” Fathi said. “Either Ikraam’s dressed like a servant, or they are trying to pass off a teenage girl as her, or I talked to Hashim’s wife last night instead of her sister. However, I really don’t think it was Bahiyya I was talking to last night. Sabah, the niece, was really surprised to see me. Plus she kept referring to the third woman as Mother.”

  “So you should go back there tonight to see what the truth is, Fathi,” Rayyan said before sipping at his tea.

  “That is foolishness,” Grandfather said. “And while Hashim may be a lying son of a camel, I won’t stoop to his level.”

  “What foolishness a groom does usually is forgiven,” Rayyan soothed. “We both know Fathi won’t do anything rash. And there will be a chaperone, either the leopard or one of the other women. There is no harm in Fathi trying to get to know his betrothed.”

  “That is what the marriage is for,” Grandfather snapped.

  “I don’t want to wait for that,” Fathi shot back. “Ikraam has no say in her life. I want her to know she isn’t marrying some crazed madman. If that means I go against your wishes, Grandfather, I’m sorry. However, let me remind you, I will be going through with this marriage even if I think this is the worst thing in the world for me or Ikraam.”

  Grandfather looked at him long and hard. “I don’t think there will be any need for you to be present this afternoon.”

  Fathi opened his mouth, but Rayyan spoke over him. “Don’t,” Rayyan growled. “Don’t treat either of us as if we’re children simply because Fathi did something you didn’t like.”

  “This is none of your business,” Grandfather snarled.

  “It’s family business, so it’s mine. It’s Fathi, my twin’s life you are arranging, so I have an interest in it,” Rayyan pointed out to him. “Ikraam is to be my sister-by-marriage.”

  “Calm down,” Fathi said, “both of you!”

  Rayyan and Grandfather looked startled when he said that as if they’d forgotten he was there.

  “While I am grateful for you excusing me from the negotiations, I do have some interest in what is happening,” Fathi said.

  Rayyan snorted and Fathi shot him a look. “I can fight my own battles,” he told him.

  Grandfather frowned.

  Fathi faced Grandfather. “I’m not implying you aren’t looking out for my best interests, but I still want to be there.”

  Grandfather protested, “Fathi—”

  “I enjoy watching you deal with Hashim, and I think I can learn something,” Fathi said.

  Grandfather’s face relaxed and he chuckled. “You flatter me.”

  “And I also think if I’m not there, it’s somehow insulting to Ikraam. As if I didn’t care about her,” Fathi continued. “I’m not going to be starting out my marriage on the right note if I’m insulting Ikraam during negotiations by not being there.”

  Grandfather stared at the both of them. “You are formidable when you work together. You should take more of an interest in the business, Rayyan.”

  Rayyan nodded stiffly, and Fathi knew the next argument with Grandfather would be over Rayyan continuing his education.

  “While I agree with you, Fathi, that insulting your bride is rude, you’re being overly familiar by referring to her by her name.”

  “Ikraam is familiar to me, since I snuck into the harem last night to introduce myself to her,” Fathi snapped. “You and her father decided on who she was going to marry, even before she was born. Am I the only one here remembering that?”

  He wasn’t going to confess he had spent most of the day thinking about Ikraam. How she looked, how she smelled, even. He didn’t know if he was crazy or this was the beginning of love or lust on his part. But Ikraam had been fun to talk to, for the little time they had had. In addition, a woman who dealt with a leopard on a daily basis was one who could deal with him.

  Fathi wanted Ikraam to be happy, to like him. He would be as good a husband as he could; he would be faithful to her at least. Not that he had been able to go anyplace to pick up a man unlike in New York. He was too well-known and he didn’t want to disappoint Grandfather. He
would have sworn he hadn’t had a sex drive since he had come home, but his hormones had kicked into overdrive as soon as he’d talked to her. He was attracted to Ikraam and couldn’t figure out why.

  “I’m going to still respect her if I talk with her before we are married,” Fathi said.

  “And I know if Ikraam had objected to Fathi’s company in any way, she would have said no,” Rayyan said. “You do have to remember we are grown men.”

  “I can’t forget it if you are constantly reminding me,” Grandfather grumbled. “Plus I’m enjoying tearing Hashim and his arguments apart.”

  “I’m so glad you are enjoying this,” Rayyan said. “So maybe you should be the one to take over the business while Fathi is off with his new bride.”

  Chapter Eleven

  FATHI snuck along the balcony, wondering why he was doing this again. He felt stupid, because he should just walk up to the front entrance of the harem and ask to be let in. He was pretty sure Ikraam would let him in. It wasn’t like Grandfather didn’t know what he was doing. So why was he creeping into the harem like a thief, loaded with treats for Ikraam and Sabah? Because Grandfather didn’t approve that he was meeting with Ikraam before the marriage contract had been finalized. Plus it was kind of fun to do something like this. Fathi wanted to laugh, but that would just get him caught. Another couple of meters and he slipped inside, hoping he wasn’t going to run into Bahiyya standing in the middle of the room, ready to scream like the desert wind since he was there for no good reason.

  Fathi was relieved to see Ikraam and Sabah alone in the room. Ikraam was weaving, and Sabah was spinning wool. Ikraam looked up when he entered the room and quickly drew a veil over her face, even as she was rising to greet him. Fathi noticed Sabah was doing the same thing, but with much less grace, since she was also tangled up with the spindle she was using.

  Fathi studied the two of them. Ikraam was taller and huskier than her niece. Sabah seemed to be slender, though you really didn’t see what a woman’s body looked like under a thawb. Yet Sabah’s hands were small and delicate-looking, even if they were callused. Ikraam’s hands were broad and strong, probably from all the weaving she did. They were as work-worn as her niece’s, but were big enough to be a man’s hands. Ikraam was tall enough to be a man, and her shoulders seemed to be well developed also.

  “Good evening,” Fathi said when Ikraam was close to him.

  “Bahiyya has retired for the evening,” Ikraam said. “We have been assigned tasks to finish for her satisfaction, and she’ll review them in the morning.”

  “Mother thinks we can work long into the night without sleep simply because you have electric lights,” Sabah muttered. “And you know nothing we do is going to be good enough for her.”

  “Where is our chaperone?” Fathi asked. While Sabah was prettier to look at for a chaperone, he couldn’t ignore Ikraam’s friend, even if he didn’t bring a snack for him.

  “Saumer comes and goes as he pleases,” Ikraam said. “It pleases him to be gone now.”

  “He’s probably enjoying some of the goats I had set out for him,” Fathi said with a smile.

  “Should you do so?” Ikraam asked anxiously. “Would the amir approve of such a thing? I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

  Fathi smiled at her again. “Grandfather thought it was a good idea. Since the rest of your tribe isn’t here, someone should enjoy his hospitality. And if he doesn’t eat them, they’ll just spend the rest of their lives wandering around, unless someone takes them in.”

  Ikraam flushed. “I apologize for what my sister has done. She was not thinking… for many reasons.”

  Fathi waited a couple of seconds for Ikraam to elaborate on her statement. In the meantime he tried to decide if he should be sad or relieved Ikraam had braided her hair back. Remembering that long fall of hair made his knees a little weak. He had dreamed about it last night, something that confused him. Ikraam was woman, so why did he want to run his fingers through her hair and listen to her talk? Could it be she looked like a man to him with her shape, and that was why he was attracted to her? Ikraam fidgeted a little when he continued to stare at her, so he should tell her why he was here.

  “Um…. We didn’t get a chance to talk last night,” he said. “I was hoping we could tonight.” He slid the backpack off his shoulders. “I brought something to eat and drink. Enough for the three of us.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Ikraam murmured.

  “I was thinking of a picnic, so I can make a quick escape if I have to,” Fathi continued. “My freshman roommate kept talking about how he and his girlfriend would sneak into her backyard to talk, and I would always find it strange. I didn’t think it was a smart thing to do. I didn’t know why they were doing it, because it was America and men and women can talk to one another.”

  Actually, Fathi was certain Ron, his roommate, was doing more than talking when they did that, though he wasn’t going to tell Ikraam. He was looking forward to getting to know Ikraam. He wanted to make her laugh and see her have fun, and was unexpectedly angry that she had to work, her sister giving her chores while she lounged with her husband. Bahiyya was probably plotting up some annoyance to bother Grandfather and drag out their time here, but he was certain the woman would enjoy that as much as lounging about.

  “Be nice,” Sabah said. “I want to see what he brought us.”

  Ikraam rolled her eyes at Sabah, but Fathi chuckled. “Just some treats. I don’t think they’ll be missed, there’s so much food in the kitchen.”

  They all settled on the floor, and Fathi wondered what he should say now, even as he started to pull out fruit, fairy cakes, and baklava, and set them on the small tea towels he had stolen too. He had brought a nice cider too, nonalcoholic and sparkling. He wanted to impress Ikraam, even if he knew she expected very little from him.

  “The cakes look very nice,” Ikraam said as Sabah snatched one of them as soon as they’d been put out.

  “I’ve heard about these things,” Sabah said around a mouthful of cake. “It’s delicious.”

  Ikraam took one of the glasses and sipped at the cider, sneezing when the bubbles went up her nose. Unfortunately, the movement caused her veil to become unfastened and slip off her face. Ikraam snatched it up as fast as she could, but the damage was done—Fathi had seen her face.

  “Who hit you?” he demanded.

  The bruise had looked painful, dark and angry against Ikraam’s pale skin. It was a handprint, and from the size of it, Sabah hadn’t been the one to hit her aunt.

  Ikraam flushed and lowered her eyes. Fathi was angry to see they were dull and sad now. She wasn’t going to tell him, so he looked over at Sabah. What was left of the cake was in her hands, slowly being crushed in her grip. Fathi wondered if she was even aware she was doing that.

  “Well?”

  Sabah jerked her head up higher but didn’t say anything. However, the cake was just crumbs in her hands now.

  “Don’t frighten her,” Ikraam pleaded.

  “Your sister was the one who hit you,” he said.

  Fathi was sad he had scared Sabah, plus he hated that it was the slightest hint of temper that frightened her. She had destroyed her treat too, not that there weren’t plenty more cakes. However, this just showed him he needed to take the two of them under his protection so Sabah wouldn’t have that fear anymore.

  “She was upset,” Sabah said after a strained silence. “And Mother likes to hit Ikraam a lot.”

  “Sabah!” Ikraam hissed.

  Fathi took a deep breath, wondering why he was so angry. He hadn’t known this was happening, and there was nothing he could do about it except marry her.

  “I promise I will never raise a hand or anything else to you,” Fathi promised.

  “I believe that,” Ikraam replied in a hushed voice. “You seem to be a good man.”

  “I like to think that I am,” Fathi said.

  But if he were a good man, he would tell her he didn’t want to marr
y her because he was gay. However, he didn’t want to see what Bahiyya would do to either girl because of him. He was homosexual, but it would still be their fault the marriage was called off. And if Bahiyya slapped Ikraam because of her bad temper, what would she do if it was something more serious? His actions would cost Bahiyya and the tribe some of their wealth and pride, and he guessed it would result in more than a slap to Ikraam if that happened.

  “Then see if you can twist the contract to marry Sabah,” Ikraam said in a rush, apparently upset he wasn’t saying anything. It was because he didn’t have any words that wouldn’t make the situation worse.

  Fathi sat back on his heels and stared at Ikraam in shock. “What?”

  “Sabah is the sister of my heart,” Ikraam said. “For all she is my sister’s daughter.” She sighed. “Bahiyya…. Sabah wasn’t a son. To her… that is a great sin. She had boys with her other pregnancies, six sons who she allied with other tribes of the desert. She has six daughters-by-marriage she can terrorize, back with the tribe. The daughter of her body is… isn’t important, and Sabah had been born late in her life, after she thought that chore was done with.”

  “How old were you when Sabah was born?” Fathi asked, torn between anger and sadness.

  “I was six. Rashid, my oldest nephew, had just gotten married. Bahiyya gave me her daughter like she was a doll for me to play with.” Ikraam stared off in the distance, remembering. “She was so tiny. I had no idea what to do and just held her, praying I wouldn’t hurt her by accident. Bahiyya… Bahiyya thought it was funny.

  “My mother welcomed Sabah into her heart when she found out what happened, even though she was probably furious at what Bahiyya had done. I wonder once in a while what it would be like if she had lived longer.”