by Penny Jordan
‘It’s a bit too late for that now,’ he told her brusquely, gesturing to the sheet with which she had so modestly covered herself, ‘and I still want an explanation.’
‘It isn’t a crime to be a virgin, is it?’ Sophia shrugged as casually as she could. Despite everything, she recognised that a part of her, that part that still belonged to her sixteen-year-old self, wanted desperately to celebrate the ability of her body to give and receive pleasure, and to know that the wonderment and joy it had given her was shared by the man who had partnered her in it. But of course, to Ash what had happened between them was nothing special. How could it be? She knew that. The euphoria she had felt had gone and all that was left was the chilly reality of what she had lost—not her virginity, but her dreams and her hopes of being truly loved.
‘No,’ Ash agreed, ‘but you have to admit that when a woman goes to as much trouble as you have done to give the world the impression that you are sexually experienced and available, it is bound to raise the question of just why you did so.’ Sophia could hear the anger and the bitterness in Ash’s voice. ‘And I want an answer, Sophia.’
‘You already have that answer,’ she told him proudly. ‘I gave it to you when I told you that I wanted to marry for love. When you rejected me, Ash, I promised myself that I would only give myself to a man who loved me as much as I loved him. That is why I didn’t want my father forcing me into an arranged marriage. I wanted to find a man who would love me for myself, and as myself, not as the daughter of the King of Santina.’ Sophia paused. Just speaking like this was activating so many feelings she desperately wanted to deny. The temptation not to say any more was great, but something deeper and more demanding was driving her on as though seeking a form of catharsis for her.
‘When you reminded me of my responsibility for my actions, for boarding your plane, I realised that I would never reach that goal. But I still have no regrets that I made such a goal my priority. When you rejected me, Ash, when you told me that you didn’t want me because you loved your bride-to-be, I was so very envious of her that I promised myself one day I would meet someone who would love me like that and who I could love like that in return. I promised myself then that I would wait for that person. I promised myself that he would be my first and my only lover.’
Why was he allowing her words to cut so deeply into his conscience? The reality was that he had done the honourable thing in doing what she referred to as ‘rejecting’ her. To have taken her innocence would have been a gross abuse of her and of his own values, even if he had not already been committed to marriage to Nasreen. He had done the right thing, the only thing it had been possible for him to do. He had, in his arrogance, his blind belief that he could order his own emotions and those of Nasreen, given a naive sixteen-year-old the belief that if one waited long enough and believed hard enough that love must appear.
Wasn’t he already carrying a heavy enough burden of guilt? Did he have to force himself to carry even more? Was there never to be any peace for him, or any salvation? All he had done was try to emulate the happiness of his great-grandparents’ marriage.
A surge of something so intense that it physically hurt him to breathe seared through him—a sense of great loss and regret, sharpened with guilt.
Deliberately not looking into his face in case she gave away more than she wanted to, Sophia continued. ‘I knew, though, that if men knew I was a virgin they’d try to get me into bed, as some kind of challenge, so I decided that the best way to hold them at bay was to pretend that I had had loads of lovers. That was why I didn’t want my father to force me into a marriage without love.’
Ash had drained his own glass and had gone back to the table to pour himself a second one. Wrenched by guilt, he tried to defend himself to himself with a caustic, ‘And do you intend to continue looking for this once-in-a-lifetime love despite the fact that you are now married to me?’
Why was he doing this? Why did the thought of her turning to another man fill him with such a savagery of emotion that it ran like fire through his veins? Because of the disaster that had been his first marriage. Not because of any other reason.
‘No,’ Sophia denied.
Her voice was filled with so much calm conviction that Ash knew she meant what she was saying. She might claim that she wanted to reject her royal status and upbringing, but right now, no matter how much she herself might deny it should he tax her with it, she was every inch the royal princess bound by her own awareness of the demands placed on her to fulfil her birth role. It was impossible for him not to admit to the respect he felt for her.
Unaware of his thoughts Sophia confirmed her right to that respect when she told him firmly, ‘I’m not a child, Ash. When I agreed to marry you I knew what I was committing myself to. It’s called growing up. The reality is that I was wrong to think I could persuade my father not to force me into a marriage of which he approved. I recognised that when I heard what he said to you when you telephoned him, just as I also recognised that if I had to have a marriage that would please my father then I would rather it was to you than someone I don’t know. Those of us with royal blood aren’t always free to follow our own dreams. We have a duty to fulfil the role for which we ourselves were created by our own parents.
‘If my virginity disappointed you then I’m sorry, but I am as committed to this marriage and to my own fidelity to you within it as I would have been had our marriage been a love match.’ That was certainly true. ‘I never want any of my children to have to wonder if my husband is their father. Never.’
Ash closed his eyes. Just for a moment, listening to her, he had thought … felt … wanted … What? Nothing, he assured himself grimly. Nothing at all. Unable to trust himself to look at Sophia he picked up his robe and put it on before turning and walking away from her.
Ash had gone. She was on her own. And she wished that he was here with her. Wasn’t that natural after the intimacy they had just shared? The intimacy? Didn’t she mean the sex? Ash had made the lines that would govern their marriage clear enough to her and she had accepted them. Wallowing in self-pity now was as pointless as looking back at dreams that would only ever be just that.
So what was she going to do with the rest of her life? What was she going to hang her future on? What goals was she now going to set for herself?
It wasn’t her fault that she’d never been allowed a proper working role as part of the Santina royal family other than that of appearing at formal functions as ‘our youngest daughter.’ Given the chance, she’d have loved to have had an opportunity to get her teeth into a far more demanding role. She’d once persuaded her mother to allow her to visit a local school and what she’d seen there had filled her with enthusiasm for doing something to help the more needy in their own society, but her father had thoroughly disapproved of the idea. Now, as Ash’s maharani, she naturally had duties that went with that role. Could that be her salvation? Good works instead of love? Love came in many different forms, Sophia reminded herself firmly. Loving Ash’s people because they would now be her people and finding ways to help them would benefit her as much as it would hopefully benefit them. Even so, as she contemplated her future, a small shiver of sadness and loss ran across her heart.
In his own room Ash couldn’t sleep. The shock not just of discovering that Sophia was a virgin but also of her admission of what her private dreams had been was still sinking in. Now, when it was far too late, he berated himself angrily for not paying more attention to the instinct that had said to him over and over again that there was a vulnerability about her, despite everything he had thought he had known. Why hadn’t he thought more deeply about that? Asked more questions, listened to his instincts? Because he hadn’t wanted to. Because the demands on him of the past, and Nasreen, overshadowed the present. He had a duty never to forget Nasreen and the guilt he felt about her, didn’t he?
It was too late now to wish that he had taken the time to understand Sophia better. They were married, the marriage had
been consummated and they both had no choice now other than to make the best of the situation. She had wanted to marry for love, she had said. Well, if she had mentioned that earlier he could have told her that sometimes marrying for love was the worst thing you could do, especially when the other person didn’t think of ‘love’ in the same terms that you did.
He slipped out of his robe and headed for his bed, not sure whether it had been the action of removing it that had brought to mind the way Sophia had looked at him when she had seen his naked body, but knowing that whatever had caused it he wished it hadn’t. Being reminded of that right now simply wasn’t something he could summon the strength to deal with.
What he’d discovered earlier about Sophia had turned everything he had thought he had known on its head. Lying sleepless in a bed that suddenly felt far too empty, he couldn’t hold on to the barriers he wanted to erect against his own emotions. Guilt, pain, a sense of overwhelming loss—he could feel them all.
Moonlight edging in through the unshuttered windows stroked across the faces and bodies of the two people who slept alone and separated. Sophia’s hand was on the pillow adjacent to her own as though in her sleep she was reaching for something—or someone. Ash’s dreams were vivid with unwanted memories unleashed to torment him. He was a bridegroom approaching his bride on their wedding night. Regret and guilt slowed his progress to where she stood waiting for him, her head bowed, her face veiled. With every step he took towards her the sense of doom filling him grew stronger, but somehow he forced himself to go on. When he reached her he took hold of her veil, pushing it back off her face as she lifted her head.
The sight of Sophia’s glowing face looking back him, her eyes warm with desire, her lips soft and parted, filled his heart with an intense relief and joy. He took hold of her, drawing her closer to him, his lips seeking hers as he murmured emotionally, ‘Sophia …’
Abruptly Ash woke up, the clarity of his dream still with him, his heart pounding and thudding into his chest wall. What was happening to him?
Nothing. Nothing. And to prove it he would stay away from Sophia’s bed until he knew he could take her in it without any shred of emotion threatening his hard-won resolve. This was a marriage of necessity, a marriage that would work because of the duty they both owed to it and to each other. It must not be prejudiced by emotion or by any desire with him that was prompted by any kind of emotion. Once they knew whether or not Sophia had conceived, that would be the time for him to return to her bed. And the ache within him that was burning so fiercely even now must be overcome, because to allow himself to want her was to allow himself to become vulnerable, and he could not permit that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY had been married almost three weeks, and not once since that first night had Ash even touched her, never mind taken her to bed again. Did she want him to? Sophia closed her eyes. It made her feel so humiliated to have to admit how badly her body ached for more of the pleasure he had given it. All those years when she had been able to turn down attempts to seduce her without feeling she was missing out on anything had not prepared her for feeling like this: of lying awake and raw with need in the emptiness of her bed; of feeling her body surge with fierce tight longing just at the sight of Ash’s bare throat or arm; of wanting what he had already given her so badly that she had to fight against her need for him. Of course, she had expected to feel like that about the man she loved, but she did not love Ash, he did not love her, and it left a sour and bitter taste in her mouth to know how shamefully she wanted him.
Ash had told her himself that he felt they should wait to see if she had conceived before they had sex again. His uncompromising words had stunned her. He had made it sound as though he didn’t want to have sex with her. His words had been a stinging reminder that for him sex with her was merely a duty. That had hurt. In fact, it had hurt so much that even now when her body’s evidence said she was not pregnant, she had not said anything about it to Ash. Because she was afraid that now he was married to her, and despite everything he had said to her about duty, he had discovered that the comparison between her and Nasreen was such that he simply could not bear to touch her.
Nasreen. She didn’t want to allow the other woman to take up residence in her thoughts and undermine her but somehow she couldn’t help it. If Ash could make her feel like that without loving her then how must Nasreen have felt? How much had she delighted in the pleasure they must have shared. As a new husband, Ash would not have stayed away from her bed. The hot surge of jealousy burned her pride. She couldn’t allow herself to be jealous of Nasreen. She must focus instead on her own life. So why was she constantly breaking the rules she had made for herself by questioning Parveen about Ash’s first wife?
When she had broken the protocol with which she had been brought up and questioned Parveen, the maid had been reluctant to satisfy her curiosity at first, but gradually Sophia had coaxed her into confiding in her. Nasreen had not been well liked by those who staffed the palace, which she rarely visited, preferring to be in Mumbai with her own family, she had been told.
‘When a woman marries, her husband’s family becomes her family, but the maharani was very close to her family,’ Parveen had said.
‘But Ash, the maharaja, loved her?’ Sophia had asked.
‘Yes, the maharaja had loved her very much,’ Parveen had replied reluctantly after a small pause, before offering, ‘but a man may love more than one wife. For the wife who gives a man his first son there will always be a special place in his heart,’ she had added.
And if that wasn’t a hint then she didn’t know what was, Sophia thought tiredly. Yes, Ash needed an heir. But she had her needs, as well, and right now her pride needed evidence that her husband valued her enough not to humiliate her by rejecting her sexually, because of the intense way she had responded to him.
Today at least she had something with which she could occupy her time and her thoughts.
She was visiting a school in a small village not far from the city, as part of her role as maharani, accompanied by the wife of one of Ash’s most important advisers. Aashna, a teacher herself before her marriage, had become Sophia’s unofficial lady-in-waiting for such events.
‘You may feel shocked by the poverty of the village,’ Aashna warned Sophia. ‘India is not Europe, and although Ash is doing his best to modernise and educate our children, this will take time. The first generation of young graduates who have benefitted from the schemes he put in place when he came to his maturity are only now returning to Nailpur to help their families. Many of them were agricultural students. Ensuring that we grow enough to feed our people and the tourists that Ash hopes will bring investment to the area will be a vitally important part of our growth towards prosperity.
‘We also have doctors graduating to staff our new hospital which will be opened later in the year. Ash has already done much for the people but there is more to do, especially with the young mothers from the tribes. Their husbands are not always willing to allow them to take advantage of modern health care. The traditional nomadic lifestyle is an important part of our identity and heritage, but it brings its own challenges.’
Listening to her Sophia felt both a huge sense of pride in Ash and all that he was doing and an equally intense desire to be contributing something towards benefitting his people herself.
‘The maharani’s interest in the new education programme is most gratifying, Highness. My wife is accompanying her today to visit one of the newly opened schools.’
As he signed the final batch of official papers, Ash looked up at his most senior adviser, the words, ‘And which school would that be?’ spoken before he could stop himself.
‘It is the village school at the oasis of the White Dove where some of the children of the nomads are also schooled.’
Nodding his head Ash watched as the older man left the room. It was three weeks since he had married Sophia. Apart from that first all-consuming night, they had spent every subsequent one apart
, and most of the days, too. Because he was afraid of what might happen if he went to her? Because he feared the desires, the needs, the emotions she had somehow managed to stir up in him?
It was the shock of discovering that she had been a virgin that had thrown him off guard, that was all. Nothing more than that. He had never intended their marriage to be the kind in which his only contact with his wife was the occasional necessary visit to her bed. They were partners in the business of being royal, after all, and as his wife, Sophia had a role to play amongst his people. A role which she was already playing without any help from him and playing very well if his most senior aide was to be believed.
Going over to the door Ash opened it and summoned an assistant, telling him, ‘Have my car brought round. There won’t be any need for an official escort.’
Squatting down on the dusty floor of the single-storey, single-room school, so that she was at the same level as the children, Sophia drew them out of their shyness, communicating with them in their hesitant, newly learned English, watching the excitement and enthusiasm for what they were learning burning in their dark eyes. Their uniform was provided for them by the state, and once she had broken the ice they couldn’t wait to tell her how much they loved their new school, their young voices full of praise for the maharaja, whom it was plain they worshipped.
Their innocence and joy caught at Sophia’s heart, the sight of their dark eyes and hair causing her womb to contract a little with the knowledge that Ash’s children would have that colouring. Ash’s children, her children, their children. It would be to them that she would give the outpouring of her love that Ash did not want. They would not grow up as she had done, feeling unwanted and too overwhelmed by the distance that existed between her and her parents to dare unburden herself to them and trust them with her fears.
Engrossed in her own thoughts and the solemnity of the young boy showing her his computer skills, Sophia was oblivious to the silence that had gripped the rest of the room or the fact that behind her the adults were bowing low and moving back in shy awe as they watched their maharaja stride towards his bride. It was only when the boy with her looked up, his eyes widening before he prostrated himself, that she looked round to see Ash looming over her, looking every inch the ruler that he was, even though he was in western dress.