Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride (11 page)

‘It is a foolish man who does not learn from his mistakes. Now we will close the subject, if you please.'

‘Of course.' Constance freed herself from his embrace. ‘I think I'll go and do some work now, if you will excuse me.'

He didn't want her to go, which is why he stopped himself from asking her to stay. Night-time was dangerous territory. Daylight was safer. ‘Tomorrow, if you like, I will show you my plans for Murimon. Not the paper version, but the real locations. We can head out at dawn. Until then, Constance.'

She hesitated, then nodded. ‘Until then, Kadar. Goodnight.'

* * *

After she had gone Kadar had some food brought to the library, but ate only a little fruit. Opening the window, he stepped out onto the small terrace above the piazza, drinking in the soft, warm night air. Constance had unsettled him. She was the only person who seemed to care anything for his thoughts and his feelings, the only person who saw the man and not the Prince, but her understanding, while it touched him, also disturbed him, stirring up feelings he was working hard to repress. Because they belonged to the man, and not the Prince.

What was the point in regretting what he had willingly given up? What was the point in hankering after a life that was no longer his? As much point as remembering a love that never was! He gave an exclamation of disgust. That again.

It was all this talk of marriage. It was Constance's talk of amenable wives. Her description of her mother.
The kind of wife whom people commend for her unstinting loyalty, her unfailing affection, her many sacrifices and her determination to make light of them.
Yes, he had known another woman determined to become such an amenable wife, and he was certain that her attempts to do so would have stripped her of everything that was beautiful and unique about her. Thank the stars he had not been here to witness it.

Constance had said she didn't want to be that amenable, but she knew, as he knew too, that she would have no choice. Did his Nessarah bride feel as Constance did? Kadar groaned, dropping onto the stone wall which separated his library terrace from the main piazza. He had tried to think of his marriage in the abstract, a contract which would give him the funding he needed to make Murimon into the kingdom it deserved to be, and provide his people with the dynastic stability they desired. The reality was that he found the thought of carrying out his role in providing that dynastic stability utterly distasteful. This betrothal was a purely commercial contract between a prince and a princess, between the kingdoms of Murimon and Nessarah, but the marriage would be made and endured by two people, a man and a woman. A man and a woman who felt absolutely nothing for each other. A woman who, as Constance had so rightly pointed out, had no choice. And a man determined to feel nothing. Ever again.

Kadar stifled a yawn, glancing up at the central edifice of the palace. Was Constance up there, looking at the stars? He wished he could be with her, but he did not trust himself. Last night he had been unable to resist temptation, having found her there so unexpectedly. But tonight, if he went up to that roof terrace, he would be deliberately courting it. He wanted her. She wanted him. It would be so easy to give in, to tell himself that it didn't matter, that the promise to marry was not his promise, that he could not be untrue to a woman he had not chosen until the day when he made his own personal vow. Their wedding day.

Once again, Kadar shuddered at the thought. It disturbed him that his blood heated when he thought of Constance, and yet it seemed to freeze in his veins when he tried to imagine making love to the woman who was to be his wife. Who might, at this very moment, be having the exact same thoughts about him. And as for Constance...

Kadar cursed under his breath. This was pointless. He had no right at all to interfere in her marriage, even if the thought of her enduring—no, he could not think about that. Would not. He found the very notion unbearable. Which was worrying in its own right.

Chapter Seven

C
onstance had decided to dress formally for this morning's outing. Acutely aware that her presence by Kadar's side would be noted, discussed, and much speculated upon by all they encountered, she was determined to do him credit as his court astronomer, and equally determined
not
to be perceived in any other, more compromising role. Her tunic was fashioned from straw-coloured cotton with a high, rounded neck. Her matching wide pantaloons were tucked into her long brown-leather riding boots, and her hair was carefully braided and tucked under a
keffiyeh
of the same cotton, held in place with a silk scarf of darker gold. It was her coat which lent this simple and demure outfit the gravitas commensurate with her office. Dark blue silk patterned with golden leaves, it fitted tightly to her waist, and was fastened with a long row of pearl buttons. Heavy gold brocade bordered the hem, the edges of the long sleeves at their widest point, the edges of the deep side pockets, and the slits formed in the side of the full skirt. It was a truly beautiful garment, surprisingly light, rich and yet austere, lending her just the touch of authority she was hoping for. One final adjustment of the headband which she was unaccustomed to wearing, and Constance was ready.

* * *

Kadar was waiting for her in the stables. He too was formally dressed. His tunic and trousers were fashioned from white silk, his cloak and headdress a deep, dark regal red. Standing as yet unnoticed in the doorway to the courtyard, Constance was reminded of her first sight of him in the Royal Saloon—was it really less than two weeks before? Latent strength had been her first impression then as now, in the set of his shoulders, in the straightness of his back, the long length of those muscled legs so clearly outlined beneath the thin silk trousers tucked into his long boots. Then he had turned, just as he did now, and her heart had skipped a beat just as it did now, and the heat of desire had taken her by surprise, just as it did now, her body responding on some visceral level to that combination of ascetic good looks, forbidding authority and the latent sensuality she now knew lay just beneath the surface. Fire, barely contained by a cool, impenetrable façade. That was what was so very appealing, Constance decided, the knowledge that there was a vulnerable man beneath that princely veneer he showed to the world. Kadar was a challenge. She would have to work very hard to remember that he was not
her
challenge, she told herself sternly. The task of bringing that restrained passion to life belonged to another woman.

In keeping with this resolution and her formal role, Constance made a low bow as Kadar approached. ‘Highness, I bid you good morning.'

‘Court Astronomer,' he replied, his mouth softening into a fleeting smile. ‘I commend you upon your appearance.'

She blushed, and then blushed deeper for having blushed. ‘I am aware— That is I thought that since we were— That because your people...'

‘Constance, you have judged the occasion perfectly.'

‘Oh. Thank you. I thought— Thank you. Are you sure you don't want to change your mind about this?'

‘Very sure. Shall we?'

The groom appeared in response to his summons, but the animals which the man led out from the stables were not horses. ‘Camels.' Constance turned to Kadar in dismay. ‘Those are camels.'

‘Here? In the desert? Who would have thought it possible?'

She could tell from his tone that he was teasing her, but she did not turn to see the quirk of his mouth which accompanied his remark, her eyes being fixed on the beast which now stood in front of her. It was huge, its legs with their prominent knock knees and horned toes level with the height of her shoulders. Its head, on the end of a very long neck, looked like the product of a mule and a sheep, with a revoltingly bristled muzzle, and lips which quivered over very large yellow teeth. The camel was eyeing her now with what she was certain was contempt, as if defying her to mount the ornate leather saddle with all its tasselled trappings which clung precariously to its humped back.

‘It doesn't like me,' Constance said. On cue, her camel let out a sneering bray, making her jump and cough, as a gust of pungent camel breath assailed her. ‘It's never going to let me on its back.'

Kadar took the reins from the groom, forcing the camel to its knees. ‘It is a ship of the desert, Constance, not the ocean,' he said, smiling at her encouragingly. ‘The only waves we traverse will be made of sand, not water. There is nothing to be afraid of. He is actually much more placid than that mare you've been riding, and much simpler to control, once you know the knack. Come, let me help you up and I'll show you the ropes, if you'll excuse the use of yet another naval analogy.'

She approached the animal cautiously. Though it was emitting a strange groaning noise, it seemed just as Kadar said, to be placid enough. She put a foot in the stirrup and scrambled without grace but competently enough into the saddle. Kadar handed her the long reins, instructing her on the basic techniques, and Constance settled herself.

‘Ready?'

She nodded, thinking that she was, and then the camel stood up, leaving the ground very, very far beneath her. Her head swam. She gripped the reins. The camel executed several prancing backward steps. She was aware of Kadar signalling urgently to her, aware that she was slipping sideways, and just in time she remembered his instructions, righted herself, and took control. To her astonishment, the camel came to a halt and stopped braying. A few turns around the courtyard, and she was not quite at ease, but confident enough to control him. ‘What do you think?' she asked, smiling smugly down at Kadar. ‘Is this ship ready to set sail?'

She was rewarded with one of his smiles and his bone-melting look as he mounted his own camel, his red cloak flying out behind him. ‘Into the desert, into the sunset and beyond,' he said.

‘That is a most delightful idea,' Constance said wistfully.

Kadar's smile faded. ‘A stupid saying. A traditional send-off, it means nothing more than safe journey. Let us go.'

* * *

They made their way directly uphill from the palace where the rough terrain of crumbling rock and narrow, zig-zagging paths clearly precluded the use of horses. With Kadar in the lead, her camel following nonchalantly behind, Constance very quickly became accustomed to the undulating sway of the saddle which was indeed rather like the swaying deck of a ship, and began to enjoy the scenery.

It was still very early, the sun only just appearing, a pale gold in the celestial blue of the sky, turning the scattering of wispy clouds assembled on the horizon a luminous pink. Ahead, Kadar informed her, were the Murimon Mountains. Looming crags of glittering grey streaked with darker-brown rocks shimmered in a bluish haze, a forbidding and seemingly impossible barrier until they rounded a sharp bend and the entrance to the mountain pass was revealed.

On they travelled at a steady pace, leaving the familiar coastline behind, until the trail began to widen, and the oasis was revealed. Coming to a halt at the head of the valley, Constance gasped in astonishment, gazing around her at the scene, which looked as if a stage backdrop had been rolled down before her eyes, so astounding was the transformation. The valley floor was perfectly flat, a huge oval space bordered by palms. At the centre, the oasis itself, and radiating out from it, neatly partitioned fields and orchards, like a huge web made entirely of shades of green. She could hear the gentle gurgle of the water as it flowed through the irrigation pipes. The air was heady with the scent of lush green and ripening fruit.

‘It's like a—a mirage,' Constance said, turning to Kadar. ‘I would never have believed that all this could exist, tucked away behind those mountains.'

‘This is our largest oasis—it is rather unimaginatively known as the Great Oasis. And this is our biggest settlement apart from the port. It is here I plan to build the first of our schools.'

She had been so enthralled by the oasis, Constance had barely noticed the town which clung to the very edge of the seaward side of the valley, the houses rising in terraces up the foothills of the mountain, most constructed in red stone, but some more substantial ones built of the grey granite-like rock, and some painted sparkling white. ‘There doesn't seem to be much spare land on which to build, unless you intend to use some of the fields,' she said.

‘No, our fertile land is too precious for that. I plan to cut into the rock on the other side of the valley over there,' Kadar said, ‘to build on terraces, in the same way as the town itself is constructed. Come, let us ride over, I'll show you.'

She followed him on her camel to the far side, round the perimeter of the fields, where the workers stopped to stare at them as they passed, though Kadar seemed not to notice this. ‘That sounds like a very large project,' Constance said dubiously, when Kadar had finished explaining further. ‘Surely there can't be sufficient children here to justify such a grand building?'

‘I'm not talking about a simple village school,' he replied. ‘Though I plan to build such schools in every village for children and their parents to attend. I want every one of our people to have the opportunity to learn to read and to write. But this school will be much more than that. It will be a—a gateway of learning, at the gateway to our port. Here, we will educate the scholars of the future. Here, we will plant the seeds that will make Murimon flourish.'

‘The seat of learning you talked about,' Constance said, recalling their conversation on the beach a few days ago.

He beamed. ‘Precisely. A destination for scholars from around the world to rival the universities of Constantinople, Cairo and even Bologna.'

She listened as Kadar warmed to his theme, talking with an enthusiasm which was at the same time infectious and concerning, for Constance couldn't help thinking that he had not considered the practicalities. ‘And this is how you plan to bring the world to Murimon, this is what you meant when you said you wished to bring Murimon into the nineteenth century?' she asked, trying to keep her scepticism from her voice.

And apparently failing. ‘It is a start,' Kadar said, his smile fading at her tone. ‘I am perfectly aware that it will take time, and that there are many other issues to be addressed. There is the small matter of the port, for example. We must enlarge it significantly if we are to encourage trade, and we must also review our trade laws, our import and export regulations, if we are to promote Murimon over other ports in the region.'

‘On that subject, at least, you are certainly extremely well placed to advise. Not,' Constance added hastily when Kadar's eyebrows snapped together in a frown, ‘that you are not— That is, I did not mean— It is a great deal to take in,' she finished lamely.

‘I know that my ideas are radical. I know that many will consider it a waste of time to teach girls to read and to write as well as boys.'

‘Goodness, Kadar, I would be the last to think so!' Constance exclaimed. ‘I find the philanthropic aspect of your plans admirable, although not without its challenges, particularly if your aspiration is to teach parents as well as children.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, aside from the fact parents need to both work and look after their families, adults learn much more slowly than children, who take to education like a duck to water.'

‘What would you suggest?' Kadar said, after a moment's silence.

‘Your vision for universal education is laudable,' Constance said gently, ‘but perhaps what your people really need are skills, rather than academic qualifications.'

Under the intensity of his gaze, Constance shifted in the saddle and bit her tongue. She had said more than enough and really, what did she know of such things? She was no prince.

Kadar sighed heavily. ‘You are right. My ideas are sound in theory, but in practice...' He sighed again, pushing his headdress back from his face.

‘I think you judge yourself very harshly,' Constance said, unable to bear his dejection. ‘You told me that your people thought your brother a true prince, that he was a popular prince, but what did he do for his people in the years of his reign? You told me that he was having an expensive schooner built as a plaything, but I wonder if he ever built a single school.'

‘Perhaps because there is no demand,' he replied with a very faint smile. ‘Perhaps people are content with the status quo.'

‘Why don't you ask them?' Constance said, indicating the fields, where the townsfolk were now openly watching them, abandoning any pretence of work.

Kadar had been facing away from the oasis. Now he turned his camel around to discover what seemed to Constance the entire town facing him, all of whom dropped immediately to their knees when their Prince faced them. ‘It is not the custom here to consult with the populace, only the council,' he said, studying the rows of obeisant figures with seeming bemusement.

‘You need your council's approval?'

‘No, but it would make things much easier if they were on my side—' Kadar broke off, staring into the distance. ‘I could pre-empt resistance by demonstrating that my proposals have popular support,' he said slowly. ‘Though there is always a chance, of course, that I will discover they do not,' he added, frowning.

‘Do you think in your heart that will turn out to be the case?'

He shook his head decidedly. ‘No. I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do, and my people will recognise that.'

Constance smiled. ‘Then prove it.'

Kadar laughed. ‘I will. Thank you. You are wiser than any member of my council, Court Astronomer.'

Heat suffused her cheeks. Seeing him transformed, knowing that she had played a small part in the transformation, made her want to kiss him. No, she must not think of kissing him, even if only as a form of encouragement. ‘I am glad to be of service,' Constance said, dragging her eyes away from his mesmerizing smile. ‘Now, go and demonstrate that you really are a different kind of prince from your brother.'