Rachel looked at the two men with interest. Everyone else in the chamber stood back from the Sheikh out of respect, but Wahid was at his side, more like an old friend than a subordinate.
‘Please, come through to the courtyard. I will have someone fetch you some refreshments and once you are rested you can meet the children.’
Rachel followed the Sheikh through the archway and into the courtyard she had glimpsed beyond. If she had thought the first chamber was beautiful, then the courtyard was even more so. The whole area was bathed in brilliant sunlight, although there were a few strategically placed trees in case shade was required. There was a bubbling fountain in the centre, surrounded by a small pool of water, and the rest of the courtyard was filled with plants and trees of so many varieties Rachel wondered if they could all be native to Huria.
As they walked Rachel took the opportunity to compose herself. Inside she was a jumble of nerves, her normal confident demeanour shattered by the Sheikh. She wasn’t sure if it was his royal status or the intensity of his dark eyes that was making her feel a little shaky, but there was something about the Sheikh that made you notice him.
‘Please sit,’ the Sheikh said politely, indicating a small table under a tree.
Rachel sat and to her surprise the Sheikh took the chair opposite her. His manner was a little imperious, but there were flashes of normality beneath. Rachel had imagined him to be much more stern and haughty, but she supposed he was in truth just a man, born into a noble family.
Immediately a servant was by his side, setting two glasses down on the table. He served the Sheikh first, but Rachel noticed the ruler of Huria waited for her to take a sip before he picked up his own glass.
Rachel closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t help herself. The drink was delicious; it looked like lemonade, but when you took a mouthful there were so many more flavours.
‘This is divine,’ Rachel said.
As she opened her eyes she realised the Sheikh was staring at her and she felt a blush start to creep to her cheeks as he did not drop his gaze. He looked as though he were seeing every bit of her laid bare before him. The air between them hummed with a peculiar tension and Rachel found she was holding her breath, wondering if he might reach across the gap and touch her. She wanted him to, she realised. She wanted him to trail his fingers over her skin or run his hands through her hair.
Hastily Rachel forced herself to return to reality. She wondered if it was the heat, or exhaustion after such a long journey—there must be some explanation for these strange thoughts. The Sheikh was a handsome and charismatic man, but that was no reason to start behaving like one of the airheaded heroines in the novels her friend Isabel liked to read. Luckily the Sheikh didn’t seem to notice the inappropriate way her body was responding to him.
‘You will find it all over Huria, every household, rich or poor, serves lemon and mint to their guests.’
He was still looking at her and Rachel had to stop herself from fidgeting. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, and Rachel thought she glimpsed a hint of wistfulness behind his expression.
Suddenly his manner changed and instantaneously he became the solemn leader Rachel knew most of his subjects would see.
‘I am sure you are eager to meet the children,’ he said, motioning to a servant who was hovering nearby. ‘Then I suggest you rest this afternoon before commencing your duties tomorrow.’
Rachel nodded, glad to focus her thoughts away from the attractive Sheikh and on to an area she felt a lot more comfortable with: her work.
There was a clatter of shoes upon stone and Rachel turned to see three young children filing out of one of the numerous archways that led into the courtyard. Even at first glance there was no mistaking that these three grave-faced children were related to the Sheikh. All had his dark, probing eyes and caramel skin tone, and the eldest had even perfected the slightly haughty look Rachel had glimpsed on the Sheikh’s face.
Rachel had received a few sparse details about the Sheikh and his family before taking the job in Huria. Miss Fanworth, a teacher at Madame Dubois’s School for Young Ladies, had known of Rachel’s desire to travel and see the world, and when she had heard Sheikh Malik bin Jalal al-Mahrouky was looking for a new governess for his children she had acquired all of the information necessary for Rachel to apply for the position and had then encouraged her to do so. Rachel’s correspondence with the palace had been brief and her application accepted almost immediately. The details about the children a palace secretary had sent in a letter had been functional and succinct. She knew the children were aged eight, six and four, and that their mother had died about a year ago. As to their likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, she was in the dark.
Aahil, the eldest of the three children, stepped forward. Rachel could already see he was a Sheikh in the making. His back was straight as he gave a little bow to greet her, and his face unsmiling. From what she remembered he was only eight years old and already he was acting like a man. Her heart squeezed a little, surely there was still time for him to be a child for a few more years.
‘Welcome to Huria, Miss Talbot,’ he said, his English almost as perfect as his father’s. ‘We look forward to starting our lessons with you.’
Rachel’s eyes roamed over the other two children, wondering if they, too, would be so formal at such a young age. Ameera, the young Princess, stared mutinously at her and Rachel got the impression she was trying hard not to stick out her tongue. Hakim, the four-year-old Prince, looked shyly at the ground.
‘I can’t wait to get to know you all,’ Rachel said warmly. ‘I’m sure we will have plenty of fun together.’
Aahil frowned, as if protesting at the idea of fun, but Rachel pressed on.
‘You must tell me all about yourselves.’
Quickly Rachel gathered the children up and hustled them towards the shade of the tree. She noticed that the Sheikh hung back, watching his children closely, proudly, but not really interacting with them. She knew she shouldn’t be too quick to judge, but she did wonder whether he encouraged the formal behaviour she had seen from Aahil.
‘Right,’ she said, perching on a little wall and gathering the children to her. ‘Aahil, tell me what your favourite subject is.’
Aahil looked a little lost at being asked about his likes. He shot a quick glance at his father.
‘I am privileged to learn about the history of our country,’ he said almost mechanically.
Rachel smiled warmly. ‘You must be very proud of your country,’ she agreed. ‘I think that is a wonderful favourite subject.’
The young Prince squirmed a little at her compliment and Rachel glanced once again at their father. She could tell immediately he was interested in his children, but she couldn’t quite understand why he was not getting involved. Maybe he thought it best to let her get to know them first.
‘Ameera,’ Rachel said, turning to the pretty little six-year-old, ‘what is your favourite game to play?’
Ameera gave her a haughty look that would have felled lesser women. ‘We do not play games.’
Rachel felt her eyes widen slightly, but she tried not to show any outward reaction to the girl’s words.
‘That’s a shame,’ she said casually. ‘I do so love playing games.’
‘But you’re an adult,’ Ameera blurted out.
‘Adults are allowed to have fun, too.’
Ameera pressed her lips together firmly as if she disapproved and Rachel could see she was going to get nothing more out of the young girl for now.
Rachel turned to Hakim, knowing she would likely have to simplify her language for the young boy and wondering what she could ask him to bring him out of his shell.
‘Hakim,’ she said gently, holding out her hand and taking his in hers, ‘I do hope you’ll show me round your beautiful home later. I b
et you know all the best places to hide and all the best places to play.’
‘Yes, miss,’ Hakim said softly.
Rachel was pleased he didn’t pull his hand out of hers, but she could see it would take a lot of work to make the three children trust her and open up.
‘The children will take lessons every day in the morning and afternoon,’ the Sheikh said.
Rachel could see that as their father spoke all three children stood to attention.
‘I can’t wait to get started,’ Rachel said serenely, wondering if the Sheikh expected them to spend all day cooped up in a classroom. Rachel knew children needed formal lessons, but she also knew they learnt a lot more if they were given time to develop outside the classroom. She had a feeling the Sheikh might not approve of her teaching methods and wondered how she could make him see that fun was as important as French to such young minds.
Copyright © 2016 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488004391
Awakening the Shy Miss
Copyright © 2016 by Nikki Poppen
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
AWAKENING THE SHY MISS Page 24