GOVERNESS TO THE SHEIKH

by MARTIN, LAURA

  ‘The very fact that you care so much, that you’re out here pacing up and down the courtyard worrying about them, shows that you’re a good father.’

  Malik felt her grip on his hand tighten and he wondered when such a young woman had become so wise. He had benefitted from the best education money could buy, first in Huria and then in Europe, but still this relatively sheltered young woman from England could make him see things in a different light.

  ‘Sometimes we try our hardest do what we think is right, but still we make mistakes.’

  Malik felt himself nod slowly. He did care about his children, but he felt so out of his depth with them. He knew how to run Huria, he was good at being the Sheikh, but when it came to his sons and daughter he felt like a complete novice and that wasn’t a sensation that sat well with him.

  Gently he raised Rachel’s hand and brought the silky skin to his lips. He couldn’t bring himself to admit out loud how right she was—Malik had never been good at admitting to his faults—but as he kissed the back of her hand and their eyes met he knew that she understood what he wasn’t saying.

  They sat with their fingers entwined for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. The courtyard was empty and Malik knew someone could come across them at any time, but still he did not release Rachel’s hand. Whilst their fingers were locked together Malik felt a little less lonely and for once he allowed himself to take strength from someone else, rather than insist he stand alone.

  * * *

  Malik was up at dawn the next morning. His personal set of rooms looked out over the palace gardens and in the early morning light the flowers and plants were bathed in golden rays. Further away the sands of the desert looked hazy in the already scorching heat.

  Malik knew he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and do something positive. He was very conscious that a few weeks previously he would have shied away from further interaction with his children, thinking that in all likelihood he would make things worse. But today he had an urge not only for his children to move on from the negative experience of the trial in Talir, but for it to be he who helped them to move on.

  He knew it was Rachel’s influence. He could see how she had masterfully taken him in hand alongside his children, using her considerable skill to show him what they all had been missing out on by him remaining distant. Malik still didn’t agree with all her teaching methods—after all, Aahil wasn’t going to learn how to rule a kingdom by play-acting knights and dragons—but he was man enough to admit they had all blossomed under Rachel’s care, himself included.

  The palace was quiet as he walked out into the courtyard and for a moment he savoured the peace. He allowed himself a minute just to look up at the brilliant blue sky and marvel at how the light reflected off the water from the fountain. Malik realised he didn’t often just stop and appreciate the world, his life was a blur of meetings and negotiations, land disputes and hosting foreign and native dignitaries. In truth that was how he liked it. Ever since Aliyyah had died Malik had found himself taking on more and more, and deep down he knew it was so he didn’t have time to think about his late wife or the manner of her death.

  As he pondered how much his children had suffered as a result of his immersion in his duty Malik saw Rachel’s door open and her slim figure slip out. She was already dressed, clad in one of her usual white-cotton gowns, and even at this early hour in the morning she looked refreshed and ready for the day. She hadn’t seen him so Malik watched as she poked her head into first the boys’ room and then Ameera’s room. As if satisfied her charges were still asleep she descended the stairs into the courtyard and walked briskly to one of the archways.

  Malik knew he should make his presence known, but something held him back. He wanted to see where she went and what she did.

  He watched as finally Rachel reached one of the outer doors of the palace, turned the handle and slipped through. Malik stood frozen for a second, his curiosity turning to anger. She was leaving the palace. Not that she was a prisoner, but over the last few weeks surely she had realised it was not safe for a woman to venture into the streets alone, especially when she did not know the language or customs of the country well.

  Quickly Malik pulled open the door and strode out after Rachel, intending to take her firmly by the arm and escort her back into the safety of the palace. He looked around, his heart pounding as he realised she had already disappeared. The door from the palace led out into the town of Pretia, a wealthy settlement centred around the oasis. The many palace servants, guards and advisors called Pretia their home, as well as some of the wealthier families in Huria. However, as with any town, there was an unsavoury element to the population and Malik knew Rachel, with her foreign looks and clothes, would be easy prey.

  Purposefully he strode to the end of the street and looked in both directions. To his relief he saw the swish of white fabric round a corner and immediately he knew it was Rachel. She was walking fast and Malik realised she had covered her hair with a scarf, as was the custom of many Hurian women.

  He followed her, curious as to what she could be doing out of the palace now he could see she was safe. The confident way she wove through the maze of streets made Malik suspect this was not her first excursion outside the safety of the palace walls and he wondered how many times she had put herself at risk to come into the town. He felt an unnatural stab of panic, knowing any one of those times she could have been attacked by a thief or lured into a deserted alleyway by less than scrupulous men.

  With these disturbing thoughts in mind Malik quickened his pace, determined to catch up with Rachel and escort her safely back to the palace, where they would have a serious talk about her disregard for her own safety.

  He was only a few feet behind her when Rachel stopped in front of a market stall displaying a multitude of beautiful fabrics. Silks and satins were draped seductively over each other, with brightly coloured gauze and richly embroidered cottons also vying for attention. Malik halted and watched as Rachel reverently ran her fingers over the luxurious materials and found himself wondering what it would feel like to have her fingers trailing over his skin in such a fashion.

  She motioned to the stallholder, a stout, middle-aged woman, and Malik realised she was about to buy something.

  He edged closer, curious to see how she would handle communicating in a language she could not speak, and was flabbergasted when a stream of slightly hesitant Hurian flowed from her lips.

  The stallholder replied, having to repeat the prices twice before Rachel understood, and then money changed hands.

  As Rachel turned, her newly purchased material clutched under one arm, Malik stepped forward. Her eyes widened and Malik saw she at least had the sense to look a little sheepish at being caught outside the palace all alone.

  ‘Good morning, Your Majesty,’ she said quietly when she had recovered from the shock of seeing him.

  ‘Good morning, Rachel, so lovely to see you flagrantly disregarding your safety at such an early hour.’

  She coloured, but defiantly held his eye.

  ‘I wasn’t aware I had to inform you of my movements.’

  ‘Indeed you do not. You’re not a prisoner, you’re a governess.’ Malik paused to take her arm firmly, he couldn’t trust she wouldn’t stalk away and try to return to the palace alone. ‘Unfortunately you are a very beautiful woman in a foreign land who stands out to every thief and vagabond as an easy target.’

  ‘Unfortunately?’ Rachel asked quietly.

  ‘Unfortunate that you are an easy target. Not unfortunate that you are beautiful.’ Although Malik knew he would find it a lot easier not to care about Rachel’s safety if she was the sort of governess with grey hair, a large nose and copious warts.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Do I take it this isn’t your first trip out of the palace alone?’

  Rachel shook her
head, but had the good sense to keep quiet.

  ‘And I’m guessing that you have never been sensible enough to take an escort on the previous occasions either.’

  She shook her head again.

  ‘Tell me, do you dislike your job?’ Malik asked.

  Rachel’s eyes widened with surprise at this change in the direction of the conversation.

  ‘Or maybe you dislike the palace. Or me. For surely if you were happy with your life, with being alive, you wouldn’t so carelessly put it at risk.’

  ‘I’ve never had even the slightest bit of trouble,’ Rachel muttered mutinously.

  ‘So I suppose you are aware of the two men following us, or the beggar child eyeing up your new purchase?’ Malik asked.

  Rachel tried to spin around, but Malik held her arm firmly.

  ‘Just keep walking and we’ll be fine,’ he said calmly.

  In fact, now that Rachel was safely on his arm Malik was rather enjoying himself. Of course there were no men following them and no beggar child ready to attack, but he did want to get his point across. Since becoming Sheikh all those years ago Malik realised he had never walked through the streets of his kingdom unguarded and unrecognised. There was a certain pleasure in the freedom he was now experiencing, a lightness in his step he didn’t have when decked out in his ceremonial robes and waving to the gathered masses.

  ‘So tell me, when did you learn our language?’ Malik asked as they neared the palace.

  ‘I’ve been studying ever since I left England,’ Rachel said, looking slightly embarrassed.

  Malik used his free hand to reach across and run his fingers across her knuckles where they rested against his arm.

  ‘You are a surprising woman,’ he said softly. ‘In all the years we have been welcoming foreign visitors to Huria, not a single one has ever bothered to learn a word of our language.’

  ‘I want to be able to communicate with people and I am not so self-obsessed to think they should learn English to converse with me.’

  ‘You plan on staying with us for a while, then?’ Malik asked lightly, but found he was again holding his breath waiting for her reassurance.

  Rachel turned and looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘As long as you’ll have me.’

  He wanted to kiss her. Every irrational fibre in his body wanted to gather her in his arms and kiss her, but as usual the rational parts of him won. He knew she was talking about her employment as his children’s governess, but for a moment Malik wanted to keep her in Huria for much more selfish reasons.

  ‘What is your purchase for?’ he asked, forcing himself to return his thoughts to the more mundane and safe territory.

  Rachel glanced at the roll of fabric under her arm before answering.

  ‘I saw how Ameera looked at the dancing girls when we were in Talir last week. I thought we might fashion her a similar outfit and maybe if you are in agreement we could find someone to teach her how to dance.’ Rachel paused and smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t think I could master those steps anywhere near well enough to teach her sufficiently.’

  An image of Rachel clad in the gauzy material, dancing just for him, popped into Malik’s head and he found himself clearing his throat as he hastily tried to tear his thoughts away from such a tantalising prospect.

  ‘Unless you think it would be inappropriate?’

  It took Malik a moment to realise she was still talking about her proposal to find Ameera a dance teacher and not offering to perform for him personally herself.

  ‘No, it’s a lovely idea, just what Ameera needs.’

  It was refreshing to agree with Rachel on something to do with his children for once. In fact, as they approached the palace entrance Malik realised it was pleasing to share a decision with someone else, for so long he had made every decision alone.

  * * *

  Rachel was reluctant to relinquish Malik’s arm as they returned to the palace. She had been shocked to find him following her and even more surprised when he had shown such concern over her safety. She knew he now respected her as his children’s governess and the kiss they had shared had hinted at some desire on his part, but Rachel thought she had detected a deeper level of concern, a level that might mean he cared for her more than just in a professional capacity.

  Ruefully Rachel wondered whether she was projecting her own hopes on to Malik. Ever since their kiss she hadn’t been able to keep the enigmatic Sheikh far from her mind. Even when they were disagreeing about the trip to Talir to witness the trial, Rachel had felt her eyes roam to his lips and wondered if she would ever kiss them again.

  She needed to focus, she told herself. Malik had been right when he had said nothing more could happen between them. They were of differing stations, but that wasn’t even the main reason—people had overcome much more in their quest for love. No, the main reason they couldn’t be together was that neither of them was really ready for a relationship. Even though his marriage had not been one of love, Rachel sensed Malik was not truly over the death of his wife. And Rachel herself knew that despite the desire she felt for Malik she could never betray her principles. For years she had vowed not to let lust and love rule her as it had her parents. She had a good relationship with Malik now, one that benefitted the three children in her care. She would not jeopardise that for a few stolen kisses that could not lead to anything lasting.

  Nevertheless, she could not deny her reluctance to let Malik go.

  ‘I was coming to find you when I saw you sneak out,’ Malik said as they reached the courtyard.

  Rachel looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face. Despite all her recent denials she wanted him to want her, to have come to find her because he just couldn’t keep away.

  ‘I thought it would be good to do something as a family, my way of apologising to the children for what happened in Talir.’

  Rachel tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. She wondered what she would do without her three charges whilst they spent time with their father and whether she would be able to put the charismatic Sheikh from her mind whilst he was away.

  ‘I am keen to show them their heritage, help them understand Huria is not a land of palaces and oases.’ He paused, as if seeking her approval. ‘I thought a camel trek with an overnight stay in one of the Bedouin tents.’

  It sounded wonderful and Rachel knew the children would relish time spent with their father. Hakim would enjoy the adventure, Ameera would enjoy the camels and Aahil would feel proud to be travelling and staying in a traditional Hurian way.

  ‘That sounds lovely. When were you thinking of going?’

  ‘I have sent a messenger to sort out the details, but I think things should be ready by the day after tomorrow. If that suits you, of course.’

  The surprise must have shown on Rachel’s face for Malik flashed her one of his rare smiles.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Well, I hoped you might accompany us.’

  For a second Rachel saw the uncertainty in his expression and she realised Malik probably had never spent a night alone with his children, not away from all the servants in the palace. He couldn’t come out and admit it, his pride wouldn’t let him, but he needed her there.

  Rachel felt a warm glow inside. She’d always wanted to be needed, to become indispensable, but she wondered now why she felt a little sad alongside the glow. She supposed it was one thing to be needed, but quite another to be wanted as well.

  Chiding herself for not being pleased with what she had, Rachel smiled at Malik.

  ‘Of course, I can’t think of anything more delightful than a camel trek and a night in a Bedouin tent.’

  ‘I thought I might tell the children myself.’

  Rachel allowed Malik to guide her up the steps leading to the children’s bedrooms. She was inordinately pleased t
hat Malik wanted to tell the children his plan. When she had first arrived at the palace he hardly knew how to interact with his children, now he was actively seeking them out.

  * * *

  The sun set over the oasis early in Huria, staining the sky fiery reds and oranges before the purple dusk settled over the desert kingdom. Rachel had a rare moment to herself and was mesmerised by the beauty of the natural spectacle.

  There was a tap on her door and after a few seconds Ameera poked her head round the frame and looked up at Rachel with guilty eyes. Rachel marvelled at the change in the girl over such a short time. Even though there were still times when Ameera could be surly or rude, mostly that was in response to things not going her way, and Rachel was slowly teaching the young Princess to accept defeat and to value the wants of others. She’d realised Ameera’s surliness mainly sprang from the fact that she was insecure, insecure about herself and insecure about the love of the people around her. By showering the young girl with affection Rachel was hoping to help with some of that insecurity.

  ‘Can I come in, miss?’ Ameera asked, even though she was halfway into the room already.

  Rachel stepped away from the window and motioned for Ameera to come and join her on the bed.

  ‘Father said you might find me a dance teacher,’ Ameera said once she was settled on the luxurious mattress.

  Rachel smiled. She should have guessed Ameera wanted to talk about dancing—in the days since they had watched the young girls twirl and jump in Talir she had talked of little else.

  ‘We will,’ Rachel reassured her.

  Ameera looked thoughtful, then nodded as if pleased to have got this reassurance.

  ‘But for tonight I’ve got another treat in store for us,’ Rachel said, standing and pulling out the bundle of material she had sneaked out of the palace to buy that morning.

  Ameera looked on, perplexed, as Rachel undid the bundle and let her peek at the luxurious material. Rachel couldn’t help but smile as the young girl’s face lit up with pleasure as she realised what Rachel was suggesting.