The Sheik's Son

by Nicola Italia

  Katharine held a wine glass in one hand while her other hand was on her husband’s shoulder. Sophie smiled at their closeness.

  Sebastian watched Sophie watch his parents and he asked her about it.

  “They seem so at ease and so in love,” she remarked.

  “They are. My father went through much to safeguard my mother. He never stopped until she was his. It is a true love,” he replied.

  Sophie nodded.

  “As ours is,” he whispered in her ear seductively and then turned to circulate.

  She saw her father speaking with several gentlemen, and her grandmother speaking with Katharine.

  As this was their first public ball as a married couple, people who had not attended the wedding ceremony took the opportunity to congratulate her now.

  The rented house was quite large, with several rooms being used for food and to gather while others remained empty. Along the foyer, a carved staircase swirled up onto the second floor, which held several more rooms.

  It was not unlike her father’s home and the house she shared with Sebastian in its layout and design. She passed a library and small salon and rested her hand along the staircase railing. She moved upstairs and passed several bedrooms and a long corridor filled with paintings. The last door was closed and she opened it and stepped inside.

  It was a charming nursery decorated with cheerful wallpaper of a frolicking baby boy and puppy. The owner must have recently had a child before they rented the home to her in-laws. Her hand went unconsciously to her own flat belly and wondered how long it would be before she conceived a child with Sebastian.

  The infant’s wooden cradle was empty and painted white with small yellow flowers. A chair with a blanket thrown over it was near the cradle. She could imagine a young mother nursing her baby in this room.

  She shook her head. She was being rude. A party was being thrown in her honor and she was upstairs in the nursery. She must rejoin the party.

  She turned slightly at the sound of the door opening and closing and her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the red-haired man.

  “What are you doing here?” Sophie whispered.

  “Why, madame, the same as everyone else. I came to congratulate the young couple on their wedded bliss.”

  Sophie stood rooted to the spot.

  “I assume it is bliss, is it not?” he mocked.

  “Your insinuation being—”

  “My insinuation being that when you first married, your husband slept apart from you,” the inspector sneered.

  “That is no longer the case,” she said breathlessly.

  “Oh, excellent. I thought perhaps I would have to step in and do the deed myself. We can’t have a married virgin,” Alain sneered.

  Sophie winced at his coarse words. “What do you want, inspector?”

  He looked at her in the darkened nursery and licked his lips. “I want what I assume your husband stole from me.”

  “I know nothing of that,” she lied.

  He advanced upon her. “Do you remember when I told you that you were just a pretty stepping stone?”

  She nodded, looking into his cold blue eyes.

  He pressed her into the wall, his hands upon her forearms.

  “I have plans and dreams that will not be discarded because some silly little slut uses her charms to get what she wants,” Alain said.

  Sophie was shocked at his words.

  “I have need of you yet,” he said.

  “You hold nothing over me,” she flung back at him.

  Alain smiled, his hands squeezing her arms and pressing her into the wall. “I don’t need your revolutionary writings. All I need is to tell you this: If you don’t help me gain access to your father’s office again, there might be an accident.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. “What kind of accident?”

  Alain tsk-tsked her. “The kind that happens all the time in Paris. Yes. It might be a carriage wheel that falls off, sending its inhabitants to an early grave. Or it might be a savage attack to steal one’s purse. So unfortunate.”

  Sophie shook her head against his words. “No.”

  “And then, my dear madame, you will go back to wearing that mourning dress, as befits a widow.” He pressed against her and then released her.

  She could feel the bruises on her arms. “So you threaten my husband’s life to make me help you steal again?”

  “I will do whatever it takes to achieve what I want,” he said with cold reserve.

  Sophie bowed her head. “Very well, inspector.”

  “Good.” Alain nodded.

  She left the room, with the inspector following close behind her. She must find Sebastian and explain to him what had just happened. She must find a way to have the inspector removed from duty and from their lives. She trembled as she placed her hand on the staircase railing.

  Sebastian had been looking for Sophie for close to ten minutes. He had asked several people but no one had seen her. She was nowhere to be found. It was at this moment that he looked up and saw Sophie exiting an upstairs room. Her face was pale and she looked distraught.

  She was at the staircase when he saw the inspector walking behind her. He took in his wife’s pale face and the inspector’s gloating one and knew instinctively that something had happened. The man had done something to her. He knew it.

  He moved quickly to the staircase and positioned Sophie safely behind him. Then, without thinking he slammed his fist against Alain’s face, causing the man to fall backwards against the marble steps.

  “What did you do to her?” he looked quickly from Alain to Sophie.

  As he looked over Sophie’s body and dress, he noticed her pale face but also the red marks on her upper arms.

  “Bastard!” he yelled while the entire assembly gathered below in the foyer turned deathly quiet.

  “Did he touch you?” he asked Sophie.

  “Bash please!” She didn’t want her husband hurt. She wanted the inspector stopped, but not at his expense.

  “No! What did he do?” Bash asked again, but louder.

  Alain pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and almost smirked. “You’ll regret laying hands on me.”

  Sophie pulled at Sebastian. “He told me he would hurt you if I didn’t help him gain access to my father’s papers.”

  “My God! When will you stop? When?!” Sebastian yelled.

  “I think I can safely say your wife will be in jail before the night’s end, and you as well for assaulting an inspector.” Alain touched his lip.

  Sebastian ground his teeth and then turned down the stairs, searching for something. Two men stood nearby, each with a saber on their person. He nodded to them and asked for the sabers, which they relinquished.

  Alain was standing near the top of the stairs as Sebastian rejoined him, mounting the staircase and throwing a saber at his feet.

  “I demand satisfaction!” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You have laid hands upon my wife.”

  A murmur went through the crowd and even Etienne was shocked. Mohammed and Katharine watched quietly, but no one moved forward to stop what was happening.

  Alain hated Sebastian and everything his class stood for. Without thinking, he picked up the saber and slashed into the air, clashing his sword with Sebastian’s. The slash was close to Sophie, who remained on the staircase with the men, and several people gasped.

  Sophie inched her way down the staircase away from the two men, coming to rest next to Katharine and Leila at the bottom of the stairs.

  “How dare you touch her? Your greed for power will be your undoing,” Sebastian yelled.

  The entire foyer was filled to the brim with people as they watched the two men duel. The orchestra had stopped playing and even those guests who came for the food and drink paused what they were doing to watch the fight.

  Sebastian countered the attack, smashing his saber into Alain again and again, sending the man up the stairs.

  Meanwhile, Sebas
tian had misjudged the distance and Alain came toward him, kicking him with all his might and sending him flying down the steps into several casual observers. The spectators moved back as the duel was gaining momentum and ground.

  Sebastian had the wind knocked out of him but recovered quickly, just in time to defend himself as Alain came towards him and slashed into the air again. He blocked it, but not before Alain’s saber pierced his arm.

  Sebastian gasped out loud, as did the people watching. The blood seeped into his coat and Sophie covered her mouth with her hand. Alain sliced into the air, meeting Sebastian’s saber and then hitting him in the face with his elbow.

  Sebastian countered the attack with a quick punch to the inspector’s stomach.

  When Alain doubled over, Sebastian stood with the saber held under the other man’s chin.

  “It’s over, Vennard,” he said calmly.

  Sebastian made eye contact with Etienne and his father, who nodded. They would have the inspector arrested for threatening Sophie and for threatening to kill Sebastian.

  Slowly, Alain straightened and was seemingly defeated and apologetic. His sword hung at his side. As soon as he moved almost next to Sebastian, he whirled around and grabbed Sophie by the waist.

  “Bash!” she cried out.

  Alain held her tightly while his saber was underneath Sebastian’s chin, keeping him at a distance.

  “Let her go, Vennard. You hurt her and you’ll spend the rest of your days looking over your shoulder. I promise you,” Sebastian swore.

  Holding Sophie close to him and using her as a shield, Alain moved through the crowd, trying to find an opening. He slashed at the people in front of him and watched as Sebastian moved just out of reach but still close enough to pounce.

  Sophie felt the grip of Alain on her waist, her eyes on her husband, who kept her in his sight.

  Suddenly Alain saw his chance. He threw Sophie at Sebastian and muttered, “This isn’t over.”

  Sophie made contact with Sebastian but then stepped out of the way. Sebastian sliced the air and his saber hit home across Alain’s back. The inspector turned, crying out and tried to retaliate but his saber met with only air not hitting its intended target.

  The crowd had parted behind him just as Sebastian’s saber found home again, this time in the inspector’s arm. Alain clutched his arm in pain and yelped. He was swinging wildly and made a hasty exit using the saber as a weapon so people would move away.

  Sebastian tried to chase Alain, but it was dark outside and once the inspector left the house, he blended into the Paris night.

  “The man is mad!” several people exclaimed as Sebastian returned, holding Sophie tightly in his arms.

  ***

  Eugenie, Katharine and Leila sat beside the fire while Mohammed, Sebastian, Etienne and Jean Pierre discussed their plan of action.

  Sophie was looking out the window, as if waiting for the inspector to return.

  “He’s finished in Paris. Word is already out that he attacked a young woman with hundreds of witnesses,” Etienne remarked.

  “I’ll speak to the commissioner tomorrow. He’ll sack the inspector—I’ll see to it,” Jean Pierre said, watching his daughter at the window.

  “Yes. But with France on the brink of revolution, he is just the sort of man who will rise from the mud,” Sebastian countered.

  His wound was not serious and Sophie had bandaged it herself. She had been concerned and worried for his safety and Sebastian had calmed her.

  “We’ll be prepared for him, son. See to your wife,” Mohammed said. “She needs you.”

  ***

  Sophie lay curled next to Sebastian on their bed watching the fire crackle and spit. She had not expected to see the inspector again, and his threats of retaliation against her husband had been real and venomous.

  “He will not stop. If it is not me he uses, it will be someone else. He is power-hungry beyond all reason.” She shuddered.

  “I spoke to my parents. Leila and Etienne are traveling to the continent and your family is headed to England. I think it best we go to Arabia,” Sebastian told her.

  Sophie looked at him expectantly. “Arabia?” She sounded hopeful.

  “Yes. France is unsafe and the inspector is dangerous. It’s time you had a taste of my homeland anyways. I think the time to journey to Arabia is now.”

  Sophie pondered the decision and agreed. “Yes. I would like that.”

  “Good. Then I will make the arrangements to travel. I think we will be traveling behind my parents so they will ready everything for our arrival.”

  Sophie laid her head against his chest, enjoying the peaceful silence.

  ***

  Sophie felt uneasy. It seemed her old way of life and everything she knew was ending and a new life was beginning. Everyone was going to different parts of the continent and she knew the journey to Arabia would be a long, exhausting one. With a heavy heart, she said goodbye to her father and grandmother and hugged Leila.

  “Take care of my little niece or nephew,” she said, smiling.

  “We will. Have a safe journey,” Leila said.

  She had learned that Madame Necker and her family had journeyed to Switzerland and Lizette’s family would travel to the countryside. Leila and Sophie kissed each other on the cheeks in a final farewell.

  Etienne and Sebastian, once friends, were now brothers tied together by marriage. They clasped each other on the back and wished each other safe travels.

  “Godspeed, mon ami,” Etienne said.

  “And you, old man,” Sebastian returned. “We will return to France again. God willing, when all this madness is over.”

  Epilogue

  Sophie watched the waves crash against the ship as France became smaller and smaller. Everything she had ever known was receding from her view.

  She was no longer Jean Inconnu or the revolutionary writer of pamphlets. She was no longer the young girl who had grown up in Paris and worshipped theater and music.

  She was no longer the daughter and granddaughter who played chess and argued about women’s rights.

  No. She was a beloved wife and, if she guessed correctly, a soon-to-be mother, though she had not told Sebastian yet.

  Later in their cabin that night, she stripped naked and joined him on their little bed amid the gentle swaying of the ship.

  She was lucky in that she had not become seasick like so many others, but seemed to blossom and thrive on the salty water and in the bright sun.

  She gave herself to her husband with wild abandon, dragging her nails across his back and urging him to take her. He smiled and placed himself between her slim legs, pressing himself into her, claiming her as his, now and always.

  Afterwards she drew lazy circles on his naked back as he kissed her flat belly.

  “I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, so long as it’s healthy,” he commented quietly.

  Sophie looked at him sharply. “How did you know?”

  “I know your body, Sophie. You have become softer and fuller recently.”

  Sophie smiled, placing her hand on her belly. “I don’t care either. But I do like the name Amelie or Elise….”

  “Or Max?” he said.

  “Or Pauline?” she said.

  “Or Henri?”

  “Or—” Before she could finish, he rolled her underneath him, pinning her in place while she laughed.

  Later, as the sun was setting, Sebastian and Sophie went on deck to admire the colors that flooded the sky. It was a ruby pink tinged with saffron yellow, and Sophie clutched her shawl around her as she closed her eyes.

  She felt her husband’s arms around her as he held her tightly to his chest.

  “Don’t worry, Sophie. We’ll come back to France when everything has settled,” he told her, kissing her temple.

  “I’m not worried. I’m exactly where I want to be,” she whispered and kissed him back, their fingers entwining over her belly as the sun continued its descent into the horiz
on, leaving only the blue waters behind.

  Excerpt from The Sheik and the Slave

  Available on Amazon

  The candle lights flickered low and the music began. It was a beautiful piece by George Frederick Handel, a Trio Sonata in B Minor. Katharine listened to the music and closed her eyes. The violin, flute, and continuo were in perfect sync with each other as the music moved and flowed through the room. She stood with James, sipping a glass of champagne, while she watched her guests mingle. A hundred people filled the room, and dozens more stood or danced in clusters and groups around the food tables. Champagne was in abundance. She had lost count how many people she had greeted and smiled at. She suddenly felt lightheaded as the champagne drizzled into her veins. The trio sonata continued playing, and its beauty was mesmerizing.

  When she opened her eyes and looked across the room, she glimpsed him across the room and knew she had drank too much. He had walked behind a group of people standing at the far end of the room. Kat almost dropped her flute of champagne.

  "Darling, what is it?" James whispered as he felt her lean into him.

  "The heat. It's the heat," she answered. "I need some fresh air."

  "Of course. I'll accompany you," he said.

  "No, you should stay. I'll only be a few minutes,” she replied. She moved her dress hem aside as she moved gracefully through the room.

  Kat placed her champagne glass on a table and walked outside the ballroom and into the night. A few couples were outside talking and they greeted her. Her brother Charles and his wife, Sarah, smiled at her, and Charles kissed her in greeting.

  She smiled to them and then turned away. She was going mad! She brushed a hand across her forehead and flushed cheeks.

  Katharine looked out over the gardens that she knew so well. Earlier that day, she had stood next to James, thinking of the stallion and wanting to give him a proud name. She had always loved Greek mythology so she had thought of Ares, the god of war. But just then, she had seen him. Either that or her imagination was going wild.

  She saw at first the figure behind the large group of people at the far end of the ballroom. He was dressed in a deep blue coat and waistcoat with snug knee-length breeches, low-heeled shoes and silk stockings. His hair was unpowdered but clubbed with a black ribbon, and he appeared to be clean-shaven. He was well-dressed, and the cut of the coat showed off his muscled back and the width of his shoulders.