She stepped onto the balcony, holding her tiny niece, and heard the screams and cheers from the streets below.
‘You’re doing great.’ He was being incredibly nice.
‘Thanks.’ Georgie shivered through her teeth. ‘The thing is I have no idea what it is I’m doing.’ Still, the excitement was palpable and Georgie joined in, even waved to the people below and had an ‘if only they knew’ moment when she thought of her friends back home. ‘Luckily it’s just for today.’
But it wasn’t just one day for Ibrahim. This was what he was being asked to return to, he thought as he stared out at the crowd. This might be his future.
CHAPTER SIX
‘DO I have to wear this?’ This was so not what Georgie had come to Zaraq for. It was a trip to see her sister, to spend time with her niece, but now she was to dine tonight with the princes and the king, and it seemed there was no getting around it.
‘The heir was born today.’ She could hear the exasperation and guilt in her sister’s voice. ‘Georgie, we will have time together, it’s just with Jamal’s baby coming early … Please, just go with things for a couple of days.’
It was arguably worse than the wedding. To ensure she was fit for the king’s table, maids had braided her long blonde hair and kohled her eyes, and now a garment had been laid out on her bed—a long lemon dress with beading and patterns down two front panels. It wasn’t even close to anything she would have chosen.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Felicity lied, because the lemon would have looked stunning with olive skin and a coil of dark hair, but it clashed with blonde and both sisters knew it.
‘I look like a lemon meringue pie.’ Georgie responded, but she didn’t want to add to her sister’s guilt. She actually managed a laugh as she peered in the mirror. ‘And why is my rouge orange? Anyway, it doesn’t matter, it’s just dinner … I’ll be fine. You will be sitting next to me?’ Georgie checked, but her heart tripped to a race when Felicity grimaced.
‘I will, but I might have to pop up and feed Azizah. She fell asleep straight after her bath so I don’t think she’s going to last the whole meal.’
‘You can’t leave me with them.’
‘I wouldn’t normally—who could know Jamal was going to have the baby early? And I didn’t know there’d be a formal function the day he was born.’
‘Formal!’ Georgie gulped.
‘Well, not formal exactly,’ Felicity quickly backtracked. ‘I mean, it’s family but Jamal’s family are coming too and they’re very traditional … Georgie, I don’t want Rina to feed Azizah unless I really can’t be there. I have had to stand my ground with this—it’s the height of bad manners here to excuse yourself during a meal, but Karim’s spoken to his father …’
‘You’ve got an exemption.’
‘I can’t back down.’ Felicity was torn. ‘But if it is too much for you … If it’s going to set you back …’
‘Felicity.’ Georgie was firm. ‘Not everything goes back to my eating disorder. Any person would be nervous at having to attend a formal dinner with a king.’
‘I know. I’m just so sorry that it’s on your second night. It won’t happen again. We don’t usually dine with the king—normally it’s Karim and me in our suite.’
‘So who’s going to be there?’
‘The king, and Hassan will be there with Jamal’s parents and family. Ibrahim, I hope.’
‘Hope?’ Georgie closed her eyes for a moment. She really did not want to face him looking like this.
‘That’s all you can do when he’s around.’ Felicity gave a wry smile. ‘How was he today?’
‘He seemed to enjoy the celebration—he was thrilled for his brother.’
‘Karim said you two spent a lot of time together.’
‘He speaks English,’ Georgie said tersely. She did not have to explain herself, they had done nothing wrong, but she quickly changed the subject. ‘What about the queen?’
‘You know she doesn’t live here.’
‘So when will she get to see her grandson?’
‘When Hassan and Jamal take him to see her—like I did when Azizah was born. Mind you, with him being a little bit premature, it might not be for a while.’
‘So she won’t get to see him?’
‘Georgie, please …’ Her sister was nervous and it irritated Georgie.
‘We’re not allowed to talk about it even in the privacy of my bedroom?’ Georgie shook her head in disbelief. ‘I don’t know how you live like this, Felicity.’
‘I have a wonderful life,’ Felicity said, ‘and of course we can talk about things. It’s just …’ Felicity screwed her eyes closed for a second. ‘Just not at dinner. Georgie, I’m asking you to be discreet. There are things that aren’t to be discussed.’ She tried for the umpteenth time to explain to her younger sister the strange ways of Zaraq. ‘It’s a very delicate subject, The king misses her terribly, he mourns for her.’
‘She’s not dead,’ Georgie pointed out. ‘All he has to do is pick up the phone.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything to embarrass you—I’ll be suitably demure.’
She was, and it had nothing to do with Felicity’s warning. The vast table, the company, the introductions, the surroundings had Georgie overwhelmed.
There was no sign of Ibrahim and she heard the king say his name a couple of times to Karim.
‘When do we eat?’ Georgie asked her sister, when they had been sitting for what seemed ages.
‘When the prodigal son appears.’ Felicity answered, and Georgie felt nervous on his behalf. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ But even if she appeared calm, inwardly she was dreading that her sister might have to leave. Especially as Felicity had told her that though they usually did their best to converse in English when she was around, it wasn’t possible tonight as Jamal’s family spoke only Arabic. ‘They are discussing when a photo of the new heir will be released.’ Felicity did her best to keep up with the conversation, but even that lifeline was lost when a maid whispered in her ear and Felicity, with a rather terse nod from the king, excused herself.
It was interminable, smiling and laughing and nodding when the others did, though Georgie had no idea what was being said. She actually found herself wishing they’d bring the food out, just to give her something to do. But then, like a summer shower on a stifling day, Ibrahim strolled in and all Georgie could wonder was how he got away with wearing Western clothes—he was in black dinner trousers and a slim-fitting white shirt and she wondered if he’d been out riding and had just pulled some clothes on, because his hair was tousled and he hadn’t bothered with shaving.
‘You are late.’ The king was less than impressed. The conversation was in English now, no doubt to avoid any embarrassment in front of the esteemed guests.
‘I had to make a phone call,’ Ibrahim said without apology.
‘It is dinner,’ the king said.
‘With family.’ Ibrahim’s smile was black as he made his point. ‘Surely we can relax and share in such a fine occasion.’ He slid into the empty seat beside Georgie.
‘Felicity is sitting there.’ Karim’s response was immediate.
‘Where is she, then?’
‘Feeding Azizah.’
‘She left you to deal with this lot?’ Ibrahim looked less than impressed and just shrugged as Karim frowned at him. ‘I’ll sit with you till she gets back.’ He switched back to Arabic then and spoke for a moment or two with the guests and then turned his attention back to Georgie.
‘You look …’ His eyes drifted down and then back to her face, and there was a hint of a tease in his smile. ‘Like you did the day I met you.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Georgie said, remembering the apricot bridesmaid’s dress. ‘I don’t think the maids are used to dressing blondes.’ She winked. ‘I’ll have to have a little word.’
He was wonderful company. She even forgot to be nervous for a little while, forgot, if it was possible to, just h
ow attracted she was to him. She was just herself with him that night, and that was all she needed to be.
‘I thought they’d be serving now that you are here,’ Georgie commented when, despite Felicity’s prediction, it seemed that the dreaded meal was taking for ever to come out.
‘It shouldn’t be too much longer,’ Ibrahim explained, ‘Most of the socialising is done before dinner. Once it gets to coffee, the evening is over.’
‘Really?’ Georgie gave a tight smile in Karim’s direction. ‘My sister never said.’
Still, when the first course was finally served, somehow he must have sensed the small lick of hers lips wasn’t borne of anticipation as a stream of maids approached with dishes.
‘You’ll be fine.’ He watched as she politely nodded, but he could see the nervousness in her eyes. ‘You really will.’
‘I read that it’s rude not to clear your plate.’ Georgie was almost breathless at the admission, but without Felicity beside her, the prospect of dining in such plush surroundings with food she was unfamiliar with was becoming increasingly daunting.
‘It’s mezze,’ he said, ‘just the starter—dips, pastries and pickles …’ He explained the lavish spread. ‘Just take a little and if you like it, go back for more. Excuse me a moment,’ he said, and turned his attention to his father. ‘Bekra,’ came his brief response, then he turned back to Felicity. ‘My father is asking when I am going to the hospital again. I said tomorrow.’
Somehow she relaxed, so much so she barely noticed when Felicity returned and after a brief awkward moment Ibrahim moved to the other side of the table.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Felicity said in a low voice. ‘Georgie, I really am—’
‘It’s fine,’ Georgie said. ‘Honestly. Ibrahim’s been wonderful.’ She saw her sister’s lips tighten, saw Felicity’s worried blink as she glanced briefly at her brother-in-law and then back to Georgie.
‘What?’ Georgie frowned.
‘Nothing,’ Felicity said, but Georgie could tell she was rattled.
Ibrahim’s behavior was impeccable. As the endless courses were served he spoke with the guests but he still carried on talking to Georgie, guiding her through the courses whenever Felicity was drawn into the main conversation.
As they ate their dessert—mahlabia, Ibrahim informed her from across the table, a creamy pudding layered with rose water—again she felt Felicity tense. Her sister’s reaction incensed Georgie. Admittedly, thorough no fault of her own, Felicity had left her to her own devices all day, and Georgie shuddered to think how the day would have been without Ibrahim’s guidance. Now Felicity seemed annoyed that the two of them seemed to be getting on, even nudging Georgie when she laughed at something Ibrahim said.
‘What?’ Georgie asked. ‘What have I done wrong now?’
‘I’ll talk to you later.’
She would be talking too.
Oh, yes, she’d say something, but later and when they were alone.
Coffee was served and, as Ibrahim had predicted, the evening ended. As farewells were said to Jamal’s family, Hassan declared he would now return to the hospital to spend the first night with his wife and new son. But it would seem the evening was not quite over, for the king accepted another coffee and small biscuits were served. Just when everyone should be able to relax a touch more, the king frowned in annoyance as Ibrahim’s phone rang loudly.
‘Excuse me.’ He stood as he answered it. ‘I have to take this call.’
It was clearly the height of rudeness, and the conversation was strained as Ibrahim took his time. The king’s face was like thunder as the minutes stretched on, and even Georgie was nervous as to what might happen when almost half an hour later an unrepentant Ibrahim returned to the room.
‘What?’ He glanced up at the silence and boldly addressed it.
‘I will speak with you later.’
‘Speak with me now,’ Ibrahim said.
‘You have kept the table waiting for the second time in one meal.’
‘I told you to carry on.’
‘We celebrate as a family.’
‘Not quite.’
It wasn’t indiscretions from Georgie they had to worry about. There was a dangerous edge to Ibrahim, a challenge in his stance as he took his place at the table and clicked his fingers. ‘I would like champagne …’ he glanced at his father ‘… to celebrate the birth of Zaraq’s future king.’
There had been champagne at her sister’s wedding, but only for visitors, and clearly it was not expected tonight, for the servant hesitated until a tense nod came from the king. ‘Will anyone join me?’ Ibrahim asked. Gorgeous black eyes swept the table and then met hers.
‘No, thank you.’ She could almost hear the sigh of relief from her sister as she declined his offer and everyone else at the table did the same.
‘Not quite a family celebration.’ Ibrahim picked up the conversation once his champagne was poured, and Georgie realised he wasn’t just ignoring his father’s anger, he was provoking it. ‘Did not one of you think to call her?’ Ibrahim’s eyes roamed to his brother and then to his father. ‘That is why I was late for dinner. I called my mother, naturally expecting her to already know the news … that this morning she became a grandmother.’
‘Ibrahim,’ Karim broke in. ‘Not here.’
‘Where, then?’ Ibrahim said. ‘This is family, is it not? Where do we discuss such things if not at dinner?’
‘Tonight is a celebration,’ the king said, though a muscle flickered in his cheek. ‘I was going to have my secretary ring—’
‘Your secretary?’ Ibrahim sneered. ‘Is that the same one who rang her when her son died? The same one who rang her when Hassan and Jamal’s firstborn died? You know how her heart broke.’
‘I had not spoken to your mother in years then.’
‘But you’re talking to her now,’ Ibrahim said. ‘You’re more than talking with her, you’re …’ He stopped and collected himself then carried on. ‘Could you not have rung today to make her heart soar?’ His disgust was evident.
‘You did not ring,’ the king said.
‘I thought you had!’ Ibrahim would not back down. ‘I assumed her husband had, given you are talking now, and that you were in London two weeks ago on business.’
‘Silence.’
‘That call I just took was from your wife,’ Ibrahim sneered, ‘my mother, our queen. The news I gave to her before dinner has just sunk in, now she is crying, sobbing, that she cannot see the future heir till Hassan can fit in a visit. She begs me to celebrate for her, to give him a kiss from the grandmother who cannot be here. She has poured champagne back in London and is raising a glass—I told her that I would do the same.’
His eyes scanned the table. ‘Will anyone join my mother and me?’
There were no takers.
Karim shook his head, as did Felicity, and Georgie wanted to shake her.
‘Georgie?’ he offered, and she was beyond tempted to say yes this time, not for the drink but for the point he was making. But she refused to partake in a battle that was not hers, to play a game when she was not privy to the rules. She could hear the pain behind his statements, feel the injustice on his mother’s behalf, but she was here with her sister, here to support her, not make trouble for her. Still, there was regret in her heart when again she declined.
‘No, thank you.’ She licked suddenly dry lips and dropped her gaze, but not before she saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes.
The king was not about to bend to his son.
‘Tomorrow.’ He rose from the table and immediately Karim stood and so too did Felicity. At her sister’s nudge, Georgie followed. Only Ibrahim sat, not for long but there was reluctance, insolence even as rather too slowly he also stood. It did not go unnoticed. ‘You will be in my study at eight a.m. Tomorrow, Ibrahim, you will listen to what I have to say.’
The door closed behind him but the tension did not leave the room.
‘Why tonight, Ibrahim?’ Karim c
hallenged. ‘Why did you have to spoil it?’
‘Spoil it?’ Ibrahim did not understand his brother, his brother who would have been the king’s choice as heir, a brother who had not even cried when his mother had left them. ‘You mean voice it.’
‘I mean, you make trouble whenever you return. There was no reason for this display.’
‘No reason?’ Ibrahim looked at his brother and then at Felicity. ‘Imagine, years from now, Felicity, if it was Azizah who had delivered a child while you were on the other side of the world and Karim did not think even to call you.’ He picked up the bottle and left them alone and Georgie fought the urge to follow him.
‘He has a point.’ Felicity turned to her husband. ‘A very good one, in fact. You should have called her.’ When Karim didn’t answer, Felicity pushed on. ‘We need to arrange a trip home.’
‘We’ve been,’ Karim said. ‘We took Azizah home to meet your family and my mother when she was born.’
‘Well, arrange another one,’ Felicity said. ‘I want Azizah to know all her family.’
‘I’ll sort it.’ Karim stood. ‘I’ll go and speak to my father now. See how he is.’
But any magnanimous feelings Felicity had towards her brother-in-law were fleeting. ‘Bloody Ibrahim,’ Felicity shrilled when they were safe in her suite. ‘He does this every time he’s home.’
‘As you said, he had a good point.’
‘Well, of course you’d jump in on his side.’ Felicity was pacing. ‘Will you just stay away from him?’
‘Why should I?’ Georgie challenged. ‘When he’s the only person whose been there for me all day. Am I not supposed to speak to him?’
‘Of course you can speak to people—it’s the little private conversations, the laughing at each other’s jokes …’ Felicity was having difficulty keeping her voice even and then she said it, just came right out and said what had been obvious to everyone. ‘You two were flirting all night.’
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