by Lynne Graham
‘What’s happened?’ Chrissie asked worriedly.
A tiny muscle pulled tight at the corner of Jaul’s unsmiling mouth. ‘My grandmother has arrived in Marwan and has asked to see me. She’s staying at an hotel in the city.’
‘My goodness, she must be quite an age now,’ Chrissie remarked.
‘I understand that she is travelling with her daughter, Rose. Obviously at some stage she remarried...my grandfather did not,’ Jaul could not resist reminding her.
‘I suppose, taking into account how he and your father felt about her, it would be an awkward and uncomfortable meeting for you but—’
Jaul froze and fell still.’ I have no intention of agreeing to a meeting with the ladies. I have instructed Bandar to send my apologies and an appropriate gift.’
Chrissie closed a dismayed hand over his arm and tugged him into one of the many cluttered reception rooms off the ground-floor hall of the palace. ‘You can’t mean that?’
Jaul frowned down at her, his stunning bone structure rigid. ‘Please try to understand, Chrissie. I have never heard any good of Lady Sophie, only that she is a terrible troublemaker and I have quite enough to deal with at the moment without encouraging that sort of personality into my life.’
Chrissie was disconcerted by the force and strength of his comprehensive rejection of his grandmother and his aunt and had to resist an urge to risk changing the subject by asking him what else he was struggling to deal with that was so onerous that he could not spare an elderly woman a fifteen-minute hearing even when she had come so far to see him.
‘You have to change your mind about this, Jaul.’
‘Although I have every respect for your opinion, I will stand firm on this,’ Jaul grated, temper licking along the edges of his roughened voice. ‘This is not your business.’
‘Lady Sophie is the twins’ great-grandmother and that makes her my business as well.’
Jaul shot her an impatient glittering golden glance and compressed his wide, shapely mouth as he took an impatient step closer to the door. ‘I refuse to discuss this any further. I have told you how I feel and why.’
‘I’ll go and see her in your stead.’
Jaul swung back lightning fast from the exit he had been making. ‘No, you will not. I forbid it.’
‘You forbid it?’ Chrissie repeated in an almost whispered undertone, wondering when and where her husband had developed the belief that he had the right to forbid her from doing anything.
‘Yes, I do,’ Jaul repeated grittily and he strode off.
Forbid away, my love, Chrissie thought ruefully, I’m afraid it won’t get you anywhere because it is no longer the sixteenth century when wives blindly obeyed husbandly dictates. As far as she was concerned, good manners alone demanded that Jaul meet with the two women when they had flown out to Marwan purely on his behalf. On the other hand she could quite understand his attitude when both his grandfather and his father had made his grandmother out to be such a horrible person. Before she could lose her nerve, however, she was determined to do what she believed was right and she asked Zaliha to track down Bandar and discover which hotel Jaul’s grandmother was staying in.
A couple of hours later, a well-dressed middle-aged woman introduced herself as Rose to Chrissie at the door of the hotel suite and thanked her warmly for coming in Jaul’s place. ‘As I said when you phoned, my mother is becoming increasingly frail and your willingness to meet her lifted her spirits.’
‘But I don’t know if I can do anything to break the family stalemate,’ Chrissie warned the older woman ruefully.
‘When my mother read about your marriage to Jaul in the newspaper, there was no stopping her,’ Rose confided. ‘She was convinced that her grandson’s marriage to a British woman would make a difference to her grandson’s attitude.’
A tiny old lady with a fluff of white hair and faded blue eyes sat in a high-backed armchair with a cane clasped between her gnarled hands. ‘I’m Sophie, your husband’s grandmother,’ she said simply.
Chrissie stretched out her hand. ‘I’m Chrissie.’
‘How much have you been told about me?’
‘The barest facts,’ Chrissie admitted. ‘Perhaps I should share my experience with Jaul’s family with you.’
Tea was served while Chrissie confided her own story, feeling that it was better to be honest and admit the difficulties she had had with Sophie’s late son, Lut.
At the end of Chrissie’s account, Sophie sighed. ‘It’s a sad thing to accept that even had I got to know my son as an adult I don’t think I would’ve liked him. Your husband’s grandfather Tarif twisted Lut against me. There was never any hope of my son listening to my side of the story. Indeed Lut accused me of being a liar but I am not a liar. I married Tarif when I was nineteen.’
‘You were only a teenager?’ Chrissie gasped, suddenly comprehending the outlandish décor of the London mansion. It had been furnished by a teenager working with an unlimited budget.
The old lady smiled. ‘Yes, but I considered myself to be very mature. What teenager does not? My family was very much against the marriage but I was head over heels in love and Tarif seemed so westernised and liberal. He swore that I would be his only wife and I believed that I had nothing else to worry about. Unfortunately, excellent English and European dress aren’t a sufficient guide to a man’s character.’
Chrissie simply listened.
‘I was already pregnant by the time we returned from our honeymoon to Marwan.’ Lady Sophie paused, her thoughts clearly back in the distant past. ‘That’s when everything changed. My husband suddenly became unavailable and we no longer shared a bedroom...’
‘Had you had an argument?’
‘No. I found out that my husband had a harem full of concubines.’
Chrissie’s eyes flew wide in shock. ‘Concubines?’
‘Tarif saw no reason why he should give up the lifestyle of his ancestors,’ the old lady told her quietly. ‘He could not understand why I could not accept his having other women because I was his wife and his queen and soon to deliver the royal heir. He considered my status the greatest honour and believed I should be content with it.’
‘Good grief,’ Chrissie mumbled with stricken sympathy, barely able to imagine the distress that nineteen-year-old girl must have endured when she found herself living alone and unsupported in such a situation. ‘What did you do?’
‘I begged him to give his other women up and he refused. He was a very stubborn man. For months we shared the same wing of the palace while living as strangers. I gave birth to Lut. Afterwards, Tarif urged me to accept him as he was. He argued that it was enough of a sacrifice that he had promised not to take another wife.’ Jaul’s grandmother pursed her lips. ‘Naturally I said no. A few weeks later my father died very suddenly and I flew home for the funeral. Tarif refused to let me take Lut with me. While I was away he phoned me and told me not to return to Marwan unless I had changed my mind about what I was willing to live with.’
‘Obviously you never had a choice,’ Chrissie commented quietly. ‘That was cruel.’
‘When I wouldn’t give way and return to Marwan on his terms, Tarif refused to let me see my son. I didn’t see Lut again until he was in his twenties and although he let me tell him my story, he wouldn’t accept it. Lut was an enormous prude. The very word concubine set him off in a rage and he harangued me, accusing me of telling foul lies to besmirch his father’s memory.’
Chrissie sighed. ‘I’ll discuss this with Jaul. He’s not remotely like his father.’
‘Are you absolutely sure of that?’ Lady Sophie prompted with a worried look on her face. ‘I can tell you that in terms of looks, Jaul is the living image of his grandfather and such sensitive issues as concubines are not discussed here where the King is omnipotent.’
Chrissie thanked her hostess for the tea before she departed with her thoughts in turmoil. She was convinced by the old lady’s story, she acknowledged uneasily. But how did she know
for sure that there were no longer concubines in the vastness of the royal palace complex? Was it even possible that she herself should need to fear such a situation? Could Jaul have honed his superb talents in the bedroom with nameless women in some hidden, never-discussed harem? Could it even provide an explanation for his marked lack of interest in making love to his wife? Or was she being insane in nourishing such a fantastic suspicion?
The question that she was determined not to ask Jaul grew and grew on the drive back to the palace. How likely was it that Jaul kept concubines like his not so very westernised grandfather? In this day and age not very likely, her rational mind assured her as she mounted the stairs to their private wing and went straight to see the twins.
Thirty minutes later, she glanced up to see Jaul lodged in the doorway, stunning eyes dark as coal and steady in the taut lines of his lean, darkly handsome face as he studied her.
‘You know where I’ve been.’ Chrissie sighed as she scrambled upright to follow Jaul into the room next door.
‘You went against my wishes. Naturally I am annoyed,’ Jaul spelled out flatly, his perfect white teeth grinding together with the strain of suppressing his temper as he stared down at her.
Of course he didn’t want his wife connecting with a bitter old woman he had heard described as a fantasist! Of course he didn’t want his grandmother trying to poison Chrissie with her undying hatred of his family! Chrissie already had all too many reasons to think badly of him. Furthermore, with his long-awaited meeting with Yusuf due to take place that very afternoon, Jaul was ready to confront the last of the devils that had haunted him since his receipt of Yusuf’s note of apology, but quite understandably on edge at the prospect. Only when he was convinced that he knew everything could he talk honestly to Chrissie. There would be no more secrets between them, no unanswered questions or doubts. His wife deserved that from him at the very least.
‘I visited Sophie because I hoped that in some way...goodness knows how...I might be able to heal the family rift,’ Chrissie told him ruefully.
‘A compassionate thought,’ Jaul conceded grittily. ‘What did she tell you about my family?’
Chrissie breathed in deep, mustering her courage. ‘That your grandfather had concubines while he was married to her.’
Jaul looked at her in wonderment. ‘She told you...that? Seriously?’
Chagrined by his patent disbelief, Chrissie murmured quietly, ‘And I believed her.’
Jaul threw back his broad shoulders, his anger as instant and shattering as a sudden clap of thunder on a hot, humid day. ‘That’s a most offensive untruth...an outrageous calumny!’
‘Is it?’ Chrissie almost whispered because the atmosphere was so explosive it was as if all the oxygen were being sucked into a void. ‘Because, naturally, after being told that I have to ask you if you—’
‘Don’t you dare ask that of me!’ Jaul roared back at her, shocking her into sudden silence. Outright fury had charged his lean, hard-muscled frame. His dark eyes were blazing like golden arrows aimed at a target.
Chrissie had lost colour. She hadn’t even got the actual question voiced but he knew exactly what she had been about to ask him and he was outraged to a degree that went beyond anything she had ever seen in him before.
‘You have just proved my father’s contention that his mother was an appalling liar.’
‘If that is true, possibly he inherited that talent from his mother,’ Chrissie challenged without hesitation. ‘Your father was no great fan of the truth himself.’
Jaul paled beneath his bronzed skin and his hands closed into tight fists, for he could not defend his late father and he would not lie in his defence either. His father had been an irredeemable liar and in that moment he could quite understand why Chrissie had refused to accept Lut’s view of Lady Sophie and had preferred to make up her own mind.
‘There have not been concubines in the palace for over a century,’ Jaul informed her curtly. ‘To suggest that that lifestyle was still in existence in the nineteen thirties is incredible, but if it makes you feel any happier I will check those facts with Yusuf this afternoon. In Marwan, he is still the acknowledged authority on the history of the royal family. Indeed, he wrote a much-admired book on the subject.’
‘Don’t place your faith in the belief that your grandmother is lying,’ Chrissie urged ruefully, thinking that very occasionally her husband could be startlingly naive. ‘The book was probably a whitewash sanctioned and proofread by your father, Jaul. I bet there’s not a disrespectful, critical word in it.’
As the exact same thought had already occurred to Jaul, he swallowed hard, black lashes lowering over his lustrous golden eyes. ‘You are undoubtedly right but Yusuf will tell me the truth on all counts,’ he declared with assurance. ‘But nothing can ever eradicate the effect of my wife actually asking me if I too have kept concubines.’
Chrissie flushed a slow, painful pink. ‘I didn’t ask—’
‘But you were dying to ask,’ Jaul cut in drily. ‘Do you trust me so little still? Do you really believe that my people would accept a man leading a dissolute life on their throne? My country wants to be seen as modern and forward-thinking and our women have an increasingly strong voice in society. I must be seen to practise what I preach in public and in private...’
What Jaul said was common sense and Chrissie was mortified that for a few overwrought minutes after leaving his grandmother’s presence she had entertained such fantastic suspicions. Even more crucially she had not missed the flash of pain in his eyes that she could even think to ask him such a question. He was furious too but thankfully not in the same way as his late father. He didn’t suffer from uncontrollable rages and watched his tongue when he lost his temper but the downside of those positives was that he would be pretty much silent until he had mulled everything over in depth.
‘I’m sorry!’ Chrissie said loudly and abruptly as he began to turn away. ‘It was stupid...but just for a moment I felt I had to know for sure,’ she endeavoured to explain, struck to the heart by his condemnation but not sure she could blame him for it.
‘If you appreciated how prim and proper my father was you would never have felt that need,’ Jaul asserted with a wry curve of his sensual mouth. ‘He waged a war against immorality in every form inside and outside the palace. He was a repressive ruler. One of my first acts was to repeal the law restricting music and dancing in public places. If it makes you feel any happier about things, I will ask Yusuf to fill me in on what he knows about my father’s dealings with my grandmother.’
As Jaul left the room with the giving of that concession, Chrissie slumped down on a sofa. Maybe she shouldn’t have interfered by visiting Lady Sophie, she reasoned heavily. She had waded in blindly, seeing herself as doing something good and helpful but in actuality she had hurt and offended Jaul. His self-control in the face of the provocation she had offered could only embarrass her because she had controlled neither her imagination nor her tongue. In the circumstances Jaul had been very understanding and that shamed her the most. He was never going to love a woman stupid enough to ask him if he kept concubines, was he?
* * *
Jaul spent a couple of hours talking to his father’s former aide. Yusuf left, relieved to have cleared his conscience of the secrets he had kept throughout his working career. Jaul, however, was in a far less happy frame of mind. In point of fact, he was stunned, furious and bitter and as soon as the keys he had requested were brought to him he strode through the huge palace complex and down a flight of stairs in a far corner. A servant wrestled with the giant key and then Jaul waved his guards back and entered the building alone.
The sheer size of the place shook Jaul even more. He prowled through empty rooms and courtyards, studied fountains and bathing places. Everything was in very good condition and he marvelled that his father’s mania for historic conservation had triumphed over the older man’s desire to rewrite the past and bury the family’s murkier secrets. Rage was his overr
iding response to what he had learned from Yusuf until the point when he focused on the great bed placed on a dais. Slowly his dark, angry eyes widened as he finally registered the tenor of the murals swirling across the walls round the bed.
Utterly disconcerted, he froze, imagining his strait-laced father’s reaction to such artistic licence and something infinitely more surprising bubbled up inside Jaul without warning. Gales of incredulous laughter convulsed his lean, powerful frame and when he had recovered from his inappropriate amusement he lounged back breathless against the edge of the bed. His brilliant eyes flared to the purest gold when he pictured how Chrissie would react to the paintings.
* * *
A note was delivered to Chrissie minutes after she had emerged from a long relaxing bath. Instantly recognising Jaul’s copperplate black print, she tore it open.
You are cordially invited to spend a night in the harem with your husband.
A surprised giggle fell from her lips while a warm sense of relief swelled inside her. Jaul had recovered sufficiently from his annoyance with her to make a joke. It was a joke, of course it was, and Jaul had always had a terrific sense of humour. She leafed through drawers and selected her fanciest lingerie with hot cheeks before choosing a perfectly circumspect plain blue tailored dress, which gave not the smallest hint of what she wore underneath. A night in the harem? What did that entail? Her entire skin surface heated up and she smiled dreamily, knowing exactly what she was hoping that note meant while being wryly amused by her own secret conviction that there was something different about Jaul in recent days. Didn’t that note prove how mistaken she had been?
One of Jaul’s guards was waiting to take her to her husband and they trudged a long way down endless corridors and down stone flights of stairs before they reached their destination. A big, ugly, ironclad door faced them. Opening it for her, the guard stood back and Chrissie entered, wondering why the man was trying not to smile. But that question was quickly answered because a spectacular scene confronted her two steps beyond the door.