by Penny Jordan
The last of the guests were finally being persuaded to leave by the courtiers discreetly walking them towards the exit.
Kadir, deep in conversation with his father, was ignoring her. Deliberately? Did she need to ask herself that? The longer the reception had lasted, the more time she had had to think and to assess the stark reality of her future, and how impossible it was going to be for her to live it. She could see the countess coming towards her, no doubt about to suggest that it was time for her to ‘retire’, Natalia thought wryly.
Nirolian court etiquette remained firmly fixed in the habits of the early nineteenth century, where the men had to wait to ‘let their hair down’, as it were, until after the women had ‘retired’. To judge from those left in the ornate grande salon now, with its décor and mirrors so very much in the style of the mirrored ballroom at Versailles the conversation amongst them would be very much on the future political strength of Niroli and its ruling Royal Family.
The countess had reached her and was waiting.
‘What should I do about these?’ Natalia asked her, briefly touching her diamond necklace.
‘The king has made it plain that it is now your personal property,’ the countess answered her briskly. ‘It will make a good start for the jewellery collection you will need as Prince Kadir’s wife. Of course, once he ascends the throne you will have access to the Crown Jewels of Niroli, and I dare say when he takes you to Hadiya with him after your marriage he will make a gift to you of his late mother’s personal jewellery. Of course you can also expect to receive gifts of jewellery from the heads of other states and countries on your marriage, but for now, if you are ready to retire…’
Natalia nodded her head and then waited for the countess to escort her over to the king, so that she could go through the court formality of requesting his permission to leave.
He had just given this and to her relief turned his back to her, thus enabling her to turn round herself instead of having to back out of his presence, when Kadir broke off his conversation with his father to say curtly, ‘I would like to have a few minutes private conversation with my wife-to-be.’
‘Highness, provision has already been written into tomorrow’s schedule for you and Natalia to spend an hour walking together in public,’ the king’s Chief Minister began, but Kadir stopped him shaking his head.
‘There are matters I wish to discuss with my betrothed that are for her ears only. With my father’s permission I shall escort her to her apartment?’
King Giorgio actually laughed and gripped Kadir’s arm, telling him jovially, ‘You are a man after my own heart and indeed my son. I too would have wanted some time alone with my wife-to-be, in your shoes.’
‘Your Highness, Natalia is still wearing Queen Sophia’s jewels. She—’
‘My son is hardly likely to steal them, Countess,’ the king dismissed the countess’s anxious reminder sharply. ‘You have our permission to escort Natalia to her apartments, Kadir.’
The king had misunderstood the reason for the countess’s comment, Natalia suspected, but then he had not had to wear the heavy jewellery and nor was he laced into a bodice so tight that Natalia suspected her ribs would be bruised when she was finally released from it. From the looks being exchanged by the remaining courtiers, it looked as though they and the king thought that Kadir planned to indulge in some pre-marriage intimacies, but of course Natalia knew better. Even so she didn’t allow herself to betray her thoughts as she placed her fingertips on the arm Kadir extended to her, and allowed him to lead her towards the exit.
Already she was beginning to get used to the fact that her new role meant virtually always being surrounded by other people. Two uniformed guards snapped to attention as they left the grande salon, whilst a formally liveried attendant flattened himself against the wall of the corridor as they walked past him.
‘My maids will be waiting for me in my room to help me to undress,’ she told Kadir without turning her head to look at him. ‘So whatever it is you wish to say to me, if you want to do so in private you had better speak now.’
‘Whatever I wish to say to you? Isn’t it obvious what I might want to say, or rather the explanation I might demand you give?’
‘My behaviour before we met today as a couple about to enter into an arranged marriage has no bearing on that marriage,’ Natalia told him quietly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to guess that inwardly she was nowhere near as confident as she was trying to appear and was in fact feeling sick with guilt. ‘You have no right to demand an explanation for it and neither do I intend to give one. I am mistress of my own life.’
‘Mistress. You use that word with good reason. No wonder it slips so familiarly from your tongue. As easily as the lies you must have told over the years to conceal your true lack of morality. Had I known what you were…’
He wasn’t making any attempt to conceal either his anger or his contempt and Natalia’s body reacted to it, stiffening as she stopped walking and tried to pull away from him. Immediately his right hand clamped down on hers where it lay on his uniformed arm, imprisoning her as he turned towards her. She could feel his anger as though it had a life force of its own. His antagonism towards her filled the air around them, pressing down on her. They were alone in the corridor, no man had ever made her feel so physically vulnerable and small.
‘What I am now is what I have always been, openly and honestly. My body is mine to gift as I see fit. My sole error, as I see it, was not in my desire but in my lack of judgement in my choice of partner,’ Natalia burst out passionately.
‘Of course you would have behaved differently if you’d known who I was.’
‘That was not what I said and it certainly isn’t what I feel. My lack of judgement was not realising how unworthy of me you are. You want me to feel shame, to allow you to blame me for some imagined crime against you that you consider I have committed. My crime, if there is one, is against myself, for not recognising how impossible it is for a woman of my outlook and independence to have any kind of relationship with a man like you.’
‘You dare to speak so of me? You who have behaved as no woman with morals would ever behave.’
‘No woman of morals? What do you know of a woman’s morals? Nothing. All you know, all you want to know, of a woman is her obedience and her submission. A woman’s morals are the pact she makes—the vow she takes for herself, with herself—and they rest in her alone. Only she knows where the defining lines lie for her and only she has the right to know. In the past my sexuality was mine to claim—for myself and for those I have chosen to share it. Our betrothal marks a point in my life where my “morals” compel me to consider my own desires in tandem with the restrictions placed on me by my soon-to-be public role as the wife of the future King of Niroli. In that role I have a duty to the people of Niroli and its Crown, and it has been my choice to accept that duty and those restrictions.’
‘If you are trying to tell me that what I witnessed in Venice was a final fling, a sickening sexual binge intended to stifle your appetite for the rest of our marriage, then let me tell you now that I don’t believe you. And even if I did, for me there would be no excuse—a woman who behaves as you did can never be a satisfactory wife or mother,’ he told Natalia arrogantly.
It was too much.
‘How very typical that you stand in sexual judgement of me. A woman’s ability to experience sexual desire has no direct bearing on her ability to be a good wife and mother, far from it, and if you were half the man you obviously like to think you are you would know that for yourself.
‘King Giorgio told me that you wanted to rule Niroli because you felt you could not in all conscience rule the people of Hadiya as you would have been expected to rule them. He said you wanted to embrace a more modern form of leadership. He said that you were ready to learn from me what it means to be Nirolian, but obviously none of that is true. And yet you have the gall to stand there and accuse me of deceit.’
In the shadows of the corr
idor she could see the warning angry colour seeping up under the taut flesh of his jaw.
‘You dare to accuse me—’
‘I dare to do whatever I have to do for my country. That is after all the only reason I am marrying you.’ Natalia almost threw the words at him in defence of herself.
The look he gave her made her burn and now it was her turn to feel the hot surge of angry blood burning up under her skin.
‘The only reason? What about the couture gown you are wearing, the diamonds around your neck?’
‘You think I want those? Well, I do not. They mean nothing to me. No, that isn’t true. What they represent to me is the way in which the poor are forced to work for a pittance so that the rich can adorn themselves. You talk of me deceiving you—well, I could make the same accusation of you. You are not the man I believed I would be marrying, the man I believed would be worthy of fathering my children.’
Natalia gave a small gasp as he took hold of her arm and wrenched her round into the light so that he could look down into her unprotected face.
‘You dare to talk to me of the fathering of a child? Before this marriage of ours is consummated I shall require you to provide me with evidence that you are not carrying the child of another man.’
‘That would be impossible since the last man, the only man in fact for a very long time, that I have been intimate with is you.’
‘You expect me to believe that?’
‘Why not when it is the truth? You are very quick to demand that I give you an explanation for my behaviour but you are just as culpable.’ Natalia could see how little he liked her reminder. She was feeling so tired now and so emotionally vulnerable. A part of her was longing to be able to take hold of his hand and tell him how much she longed right now for the luxury of being able to be honest with him, and of being able to tell him that it was his own devastating effect on her that had led to her totally uncharacteristic need of him. Could she do that? Could she take that risk and beg him to give them both the chance of a fresh start, and one in which as his wife-to-be she was free to say openly how physically desirable she found him? They were to be man and wife, after all. Hope filled her. Surely it was worth her lowering her pride to ask him and to be honest with him…
‘I am a man; it is several weeks now since I last spent any time with my mistress…’
He had a mistress. Natalia felt as though she had been plunged into a vat of icy cold water and held there until every bit of her burned with the pain of what she was being forced to endure. He had a mistress. Of course, he would. Of course he did! Why, why had she not thought of that simple explanation for his fierce possession of her for herself, instead of being foolish enough to imagine that he had wanted her for herself?
As though someone else had taken her over she heard her own voice saying with brittle emphasis, ‘Really? Well, I am sure she will be delighted to learn that you haven’t allowed yourself to suffer any sexual frustration whilst you’ve been apart from her.’
Kadir cursed himself under his breath. Why had he allowed her to infuriate him into saying anything about Zahra, especially when their relationship was already over? Kadir had his own self-imposed personal moral code and it did not include having sex with a mistress when he was a newly married man. Somewhere at the back of his mind there had been the intention of establishing at least a working sexual relationship with his bride, even whilst he had also realistically acknowledged that it was all too likely that there would not be any real passion or desire between them.
How fate must be laughing at him for the trick it had pulled on him. There was no way he could establish a comfortable sexual relationship with this woman, whilst when it came to passion and desire…He did not feel passion or desire for her. Logically speaking it was all too likely that he had been driven to possess her in the way that he had because he had been living a celibate life. That was all. Nothing more. Nothing personal…Nothing that meant that he had actually wanted her so much that that need had overridden everything else.
That intense, unbearable pain inside her couldn’t really be because Kadir had told her he had a mistress, could it? It mustn’t be. Not now that she knew what he really thought of her. She could not, would not, endure a marriage in which she wanted a man who felt only contempt for her. She could not take the risk that that might happen and there was only one way she could ensure that it did not. A quick slicing shaft of swift agony now to separate her from him for ever and it would be over, leaving her free to make her own life, if necessary away from Niroli. That would bring more pain—she loved her country so much—but she must not think of that now. Natalia took a deep breath.
‘Look, why don’t I save us both from a situation neither of us want?’ she told Kadir briskly. ‘I’ve changed my mind, Kadir, and I do not intend to marry you. I shall tell the countess in the morning and ask her to inform—’
‘No!’ The vehemence of his own denial shocked through him. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘You will do no such thing. You will marry me and you will do as I say.’ Not because he wanted her. Never that. No, it was for Niroli and the future that she had to be his wife. King Giorgio had rejected many heirs already; Kadir wasn’t about to give him a reason to reject him.
‘This is Niroli, not Hadiya,’ Natalia told him angrily. ‘You may have been proclaimed as Niroli’s Crown Prince, but there is no rule of absolute royal law here. Niroli is a democracy; we have laws that protect the rights of the people. Enforced marriage does not happen here.’
‘You will marry me.’ Kadir continued as though she hadn’t spoken, ‘because if you don’t, I shall tell the world that I am the one who is refusing to marry you because of your behaviour.’
She was trapped, Natalia acknowledged bitterly. She might not care what he told the world for her own sake, but she did care for her grandfather’s. He would be shocked and hurt and, not just that, he would feel publicly humiliated, as well.
‘You will marry me and from now until the day you conceive my child I do not intend to let you out of my sight. I will make sure you are watched day and night to make sure that you are never given the opportunity to foist someone else’s bastard on me. Since it is necessary for me to have heirs, you had best hope that you conceive as quickly as possible—once our month of abstinence is up, that is. I need to make sure you aren’t carrying someone’s bastard.’ He released her so abruptly that she almost staggered into the corridor wall, her arm throbbing where the blood was returning to it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NATALIA looked unhappily round her bedroom. Later on today Kadir would make his formal oath of allegiance to Niroli and King Giorgio and in return the king would proclaim him Crown Prince. Tomorrow morning she would be married to Kadir in Niroli’s cathedral, and then the next day they would board the private jet taking them on their honeymoon journey to Hadiya.
Tonight, as on every night since their engagement had been announced nine days ago, two guards would be on duty outside both exits from her apartment. It was a formality Kadir had somehow or other managed to persuade the countess was necessary. During the daytime there was never a minute when she was left alone. Either the countess, or one of her maids or, even worse, Kadir himself was at her side. The countess had told her that Kadir was concerned that her new duties might prove too onerous for her and so had asked the countess to be on hand at all times to help her. The maids seemed to think that without them in attendance she would not be able to manage the lavish couture outfits Kadir had insisted he wanted to see her wearing in preference to her casual clothes, clothes which in their way were as constricting and imprisoning as any lock and key. And then there were those worst of all times when Kadir would put his arm through hers, the gesture of a devoted tender fiancé asking her to walk in the palace gardens with him so that she could acquaint him with the history of the Nirolian people.
Part of her, the weak part that she privately despised, longed for her to get pregnant as soon as possible so that she could escape this cons
tant stifling monitoring but another part of her, the real, stronger part of her, hated the thought of her bringing a vulnerable child into the world under such circumstances, and longed to find a way to escape from her marriage.
On their return from their honeymoon they would be sharing the royal apartments traditionally made available to the Crown Prince, and in a few minutes’ time she was due to make a tour of them with Kadir and the Comptroller of the Royal Household. Was this what she had given up her freedom for? This marriage based on suspicion and mistrust to a man she now felt she despised as much as if not more than he so obviously despised her, and certainly far more than she had ever wanted him? How foolish the high-minded ideals that had motivated her to agree to marry Kadir seemed now. How empty the promises she had made to herself of what she would do for her husband and their people.
‘So when was the last time these rooms were decorated?’
It surprised Natalia that Kadir should ask such a question. It seemed out of character for him to concern himself with something so trivial.
‘They were last decorated for occupation by the king’s late son and his family.’
Did that explain the air of sadness that seemed to haunt the now-empty rooms? Natalia wondered. The king’s first-born heir, Queen Sophia’s son, had after all died in tragic circumstances and prior to that there had been the trauma of the kidnap of one of his twin sons.