Desert Barbarian

by Charlotte Lamb

  Marie hesitated. It was difficult to phrase her next remark. How could she ask the King to visit Stonor without betraying Stonor's reason for being in Jedhpur? His real reason ?

  'My brother was afraid Mr Grey might be annoyed if he knew how much interest his arrival had caused,' the Princess added. She smiled at Marie. 'Even the very rich have a right to privacy where matters of the heart are concerned.'

  Marie felt her face glowing. 'I… I'm sure Stonor would be very glad to see the King,' she said nervously. 'I have my job to do, your Highness. I must be at the bungalow with the little boy. Stonor is alone all day.'

  The Princess paused to stare at her. 'Were you hoping I could find someone to take your place looking after Mrs Cunningham's son? I am sure Lispa would be very happy…'

  'No,' Marie said quickly, 'thank you. It isn't that. But… Mr Grey does not have a telephone in his room, you see. He needs to make telephone calls overseas rather urgently. I wondered if one could be installed… he has so many business matters to look after, you know…'

  The Princess considered. 'I am sure something could be arranged. Indeed, I don't see why Mr Grey should not be transferred from the hospital to a room in the palace. He could have daily visits from his doctor here, and a nurse could accompany him. Do you think that would suit him?'

  Marie was certain it would, but she said courteously, 'Oh, I don't think we could put you to so much trouble…'

  'It would be no trouble,' the Princess shrugged. 'Mr Grey is a very wealthy and influential man, Miss Brin­ton, and we need the help and support of men like him. My brother would be delighted to have him to stay with us. We thought of it at once. We only hesitated because we were not sure of his wishes.'

  'I think he would be most grateful for your kindness,' Marie said quietly.

  The Princess smiled at her. 'And you could visit him as often as you wished. Lispa will look after the little boy. I would be very pleased to see you here. I have so few friends, and I miss the life I led in Europe. Now that I am back home I am so constricted. I think Aziz told you how we feel…'

  'Your cousin did mention something of the kind,' Marie admitted.

  Aissa's small face lit up. 'Aziz is always so thoughtful!'

  Marie remembered what Rahaib had said about him, and she wondered how well the Princess knew her charming but irresponsible cousin. She listened as Aissa poured out her longings for Europe, her fear of an ar­ranged marriage to someone she could not love.

  'Love has another meaning here. It stands for duty and family affection. Romantic love is suspect.'

  'I'm sure your brother would not force you to marry someone you didn't like,' Marie soothed.

  Aissa sighed. 'My brother is not a free agent. His Council is divided. My uncle and his friends wish to halt our movement towards progress. They want to stop the clock. They fear our new ideas.'

  'And Prince Aziz? He is on your side?'

  Aissa smiled, her dark eyes eloquent. 'Yes, Aziz is with us.'

  Watching her, Marie suddenly guessed that the Prin­cess was in love with her cousin. Was he, perhaps, also in love with her? He had shown much concern for her, yet she had felt at the time that Aziz was not acting solely out of cousinly affection, and she was sure that Rahaib had suspected something behind his desire to help Aissa find freedom.

  She left the palace, much relieved to have had her task made so much easier. Now Stonor would have plenty of time in which to talk to the King. She determined that she would not visit him. He had played his last trick on her.

  She spent that evening with Peter, who arrived un­announced at the bungalow, and invited himself to sup­per. Jess, amused, left them alone after the meal.

  Peter moved to sit beside Marie on the sofa, his arm stealing along behind her shoulder. 'You're awfully pretty,' he told her awkwardly.

  She smiled at him. 'Thank you.' But she felt no interest in him whatever. The shadow of Stonor Grey cast every other man into the shade. Even now, sitting here beside Peter, her only thought was somehow connected with Stonor, wondering what he was doing, what he was thinking.

  Peter leaned towards her and she watched him ab­stractedly, hardly caring whether he kissed her or not. When his mouth clumsily sought and found her lips she sat there without responding, as if she was in a trance. Why should I let Stonor come between me and life like this? she asked herself furiously. On an impulse she slipped her arms around Peter's neck and began to kiss him back, curling close to him.

  'Oh, Marie,' Peter breathed as he released her. 'You're fantastic! I could be crazy about you…'

  She laughed. 'Oh, could you?'

  'Don't tease,' he said sulkily.

  He moved to kiss her again, but she averted her head. 'No,' she said, already sorry she had encouraged him. 'No more…'

  'You're like a will-o'-the-wisp,' he complained. 'One can't get hold of you.'

  'Time you went,' she retorted. 'I have to get up early in the morning. Young Jeremy rises with the dawn, and I need my beauty sleep.'

  'I suppose I ought to be going,' he said reluctantly. 'I have to get up early too. When can I see you again?'

  'You know where I am,' she said lightly. 'Tomorrow Jess and I are going out to the stilt hut again, but this time alone—no men invited. Jeremy didn't see much of the animals, thanks to our little excitement.'

  'How is that chap going on?' Peter asked, staring at her.

  'Fine, as far as I know,' she said evasively.

  Next day Jess, Marie and Jeremy drove out to the stilt hut and spent the daylight hours there. Jess worked while Marie and Jeremy watched the animals, then Marie prepared their picnic meal and they all sat down on the straw mats inside the hut to eat it.

  'I'm afraid that tiger has a short life expectancy since he attacked your friend,' Jess sighed.

  'What do you mean?'

  'The villagers are nervous about him. He's too close to their huts. Sometimes a tiger takes a child—and they're all terrified it will be one of their children. They've asked ' the King to arrange a tiger hunt, Rahaib says. They want him shot.'

  'Oh, poor tiger,' Marie said sadly. 'He was so beauti­ful, too.'

  Jess smiled at her. 'You can't blame them. It's unusual for a tiger to come so close to a village—they usually hunt deep in the jungle and keep away from men. This one must be a man-eater, and they're too dangerous to be allowed to live. Usually, they run away from men, but this one deliberately attacked. That makes him savage.'

  Jeremy was peering down river, his straw hat crooked on his little head. 'Mum, what's that?' he demanded.

  Jess peered over his shoulder. 'What's what, darling?'

  He pointed. 'That black hump, in the water down there.'

  Jess laughed. 'That, my darling, is a rhinoceros wal­lowing in one of the shallow pools at the edge of the river. See, there's his horn sticking up…'

  'At least men don't hunt rhinoceros for their skin,' Marie said with a sigh. 'The beautiful animals always seem to be hunted.'

  'Oh, men hunt the rhino, too,' Jess said sadly.

  'What for?' Jeremy demanded. 'Do they make hand­bags out of him like they do with the crocodile?'

  Jess shook her head wryly. 'No, they saw off his horns and use them in a sort of medicine.' She glanced side­ways at Marie and added quietly, 'They believe it acts as an aphrodisiac. Rhino horn costs five hundred pounds a ton.'

  'Nothing is safe, is it?' Marie muttered.

  They were tired when they drove back home. Marie put Jeremy to bed early, his small body limp in her arms, and then went along to Jess to join her for dinner. Later she washed her hair, had a bath and went to bed early. She heard Jess turn in about half an hour later.

  Next day, she and Lispa went to the market with Jeremy, to buy a chicken and some fruit. Jeremy watched a market conjuror with excited fascination. He found the exotic sights and smells of the market enthralling even now and enjoyed nothing so much as a visit there.

  After lunch, she settled down on the verandah with Jer
emy to play snap. Jeremy thoroughly enjoyed this and became hysterical with laughter. Jess came home early because a sudden brief storm had made the stilt hut temporarily uninhabitable. The rain had driven in through the open sides and left it awash with water which was immediately filled with frogs and insects driven to shelter from the storm outside. Her Land-Rover was splashed with mud so thick and dark it looked like a mud pie on wheels. Jess herself was filthy and immedi­ately took a bath.

  They were just finishing dinner when Rahaib entered the room with his customary impassive expression. He bowed, glancing at Marie.

  'A message from the palace,' he said, handing her an envelope with great gravity.

  She opened it, guessing who it would be from. Stonor had not wasted words. The scrawled, impatient writing merely said: Come here at once. There was not even a signature.

  Marie looked up, flushing. 'How did the message get here?'

  'By car,' Rahaib told her. 'It waits outside to take you to the palace.'

  'To the palace?' Jess raised her brows. 'To see the King?'

  'No,' said Marie. 'Stonor Grey wants to see me.'

  'Is he at the palace now? He must have some pull.' Jess stood up, pushing back her chair. 'It's rather late to issue invitations, though.'

  Marie hesitated, longing to say she would not go, but knew she could not rest in peace until she had discovered what Stonor wanted.

  'I think I should go,' she said. 'He may need help.'

  Jess shrugged, 'Do as you like, Marie.' She sauntered away, losing interest, and Marie glanced down at her denims and shirt.

  'I must change first,' she told Rahaib.

  'Yes, my lady,' he said. He did not approve of her jeans—he made that clear every time he saw them, with­out saying a word.

  She went to her room and found a cream silk dress which looked very good on her without making it seem as if she had particularly dressed up for this visit. She brushed her hair up into a chignon, applied new make­up and put on shoes which matched the dress.

  The car sped to the palace along the dark, dusty roads. In the distance a jackal howled, making the hair stand up on the back of her neck. The headlights lit up the road ahead, making ghostly circles in the white dust.

  When they entered the market area Marie was sur­prised to find it still crowded, despite the late hour. The stalls were lit by naphtha flares. The hawkers still shouted their wares, and the smell of food was stronger than ever. Only the old women no longer gossiped around the well, and there were fewer children about to stare at the car.

  She was escorted through the marble corridors of the palace to a room on an upper floor. The servant indicated the door, bowed and took up a crouching position opp­osite it, apparently prepared to sit and wait until she appeared again.

  Marie tapped on the door.

  'Come in,' Stonor called.

  She went into the room and found him lying on a low couch, his head and shoulders cushioned, the shutters covering the windows and a lamp burning softly beside him, making a dim circle of yellow light around the couch.

  She stared at him hungrily, tracing the shadows under his eyes, the hint of weariness in his posture. He still looked ill, but there had been an improvement since she last saw him.

  'Well, come here,' he said sharply. 'I can't see you over there.'

  She moved over towards him, halting a few feet from the couch. 'What did that rather peremptory message mean?' she enquired coldly.

  'What do you mean by staying away from me for two days?' he demanded in return.

  Her heart thudded. 'Did you expect me to haunt your sickbed?' she asked huskily.

  'I expected you to keep up our little fiction about my presence in Jedhpur being on your account,' he retorted.

  'Oh,' she murmured, feeling angrily disillusioned. 'That's it.'

  He eyed her enigmatically. 'Don't loom over me like that. Sit down.'

  Marie looked around, but there was nowhere to sit. He patted the couch invitingly. 'Here…' he commanded.

  She hesitated.

  'For God's sake, sit down, girl!' he barked.

  She sat down where he had pointed, and Stonor lay back, relaxing, his dark eyes fixed on her face.

  'What have you been doing with yourself?' he asked.

  She shrugged. 'Nothing much. Today I did the shop­ping and then played with Jeremy.'

  'And yesterday?'

  'I spent the day at the marshes watching the animals feed with Jess and Jeremy,' she told him, then added deliberately, 'In the evening I had dinner with Peter.'

  The dark eyes narrowed. 'How romantic! How far has the affair got? Does he make love to you?'

  She flushed hotly. 'We've kissed,' she flung defiantly.

  He bared his teeth in a grim smile. 'Now I wonder why you feel the need to be so belligerent about it?'

  'You make me nervous,' she said defensively.

  'Do I ?' he asked very softly. 'Why ?'

  She shifted uneasily. 'I don't know. You just do.'

  He put his free hand over her fingers. 'Stop fidgeting like that. You're like a cat on hot bricks.'

  The touch of his hand made her bones turn to water. 'How… how are you getting on with the King?' she asked.

  'It was easier than I'd imagined,' he said calmly. 'As it turned out, he needs me as much as I need him. He lacks capital, and he was eager to work out a deal. I think we shall both make a lot of money.'

  'And Jedhpur? Will that benefit?' she asked cynically.

  The dark eyes lifted to her face. 'Sarcasm doesn't suit you. Yes, Jedhpur will benefit a great deal. It needs in­vestment. It needs industry. It needs tourism. I'll supply all three.'

  'Then if you've already made your deal you don't need to keep up the pretence of being here to see me,' she said.

  'More than ever,' he told her. 'The King wants to keep our deal a secret for the time being. He's afraid of trouble from the conservative element, and he wants to present them with a fait accompli.'

  Marie tried to withdraw her fingers from his grip, but he tightened it. 'Let me go, Stonor,' she said breathlessly.

  'No,' he murmured.

  Their eyes battled, then hers dropped away. Once again she felt that strange, weak helplessness which she had first felt when he kissed her; overwhelmed by the realisation that she was physically his inferior, unable to win a fight against him.

  'I can't stay much longer,' she said. 'It's a long drive back.'

  'I like that dress,' he merely replied. 'The colour suits you. It's gently understating your femininity.'

  She looked at him through her lashes. 'Thank you.'

  'Don't do that,' he said abruptly. 'You don't need tricks like that.'

  'Tricks?' She was blazingly angry. 'Why, you…'

  He laughed at her expression. 'My dear girl, I've known too many females to be taken in by any of those age-old tricks: the eyelash fluttering, the sidelong glances, the tossed head…'

  'How about the slap in the face?' she said furiously.

  His mouth twitched. 'Try it and see.'

  'I bet you'd hit me back,' she said sulkily.

  'You'd win your bet,' he answered mockingly.

  Marie moved to rise, but he was pinioning her down with his one hand and she dared not struggle too hard for hear of hurting him.

  'I've got to go,' she said crossly.

  'Kiss me goodnight, then,' he said softly.

  She glared at him. 'I certainly will not!'

  'Walls have eyes in this place,' he said. 'I'm pretty sure that servant doesn't speak much English, but I know he watches me through the keyhole because I've seen him at it.' The dark eyes flicked over her mockingly. 'So be a good girl and give me a kiss.'

  Marie hesitated, then bent slowly forward. His hand left her fingers and came up to clasp her head, pulling her down towards him, until their lips met. The kiss was gentle for a moment, his mouth warmly coaxing. Then fire blazed between them and she felt her self-control slip from her like a straw in a tidal flood.r />
  Against her mouth he whispered, 'You drive me crazy, do you know that?'

  'Do I?' Her voice was husky, she pulled away from him to stare down into the brightness of his eyes. 'I hadn't noticed.'

  'You're too busy convincing yourself you hate me to notice anything,' he drawled.

  'What are you saying? What do you really mean?' She knew she was on the point of tears. He was tormenting her with this cat-and-mouse game, aware that she found him irresistible, enjoying the ability to arouse her when­ever he wished. 'I never understand you, Stonor.'

  'Oh, you understand me,' he drawled, kissing the curve of her naked arm inside her elbow. 'You know how I feel about you.'

  'I don't… I wish I did…'

  His dark eyes grew hot as he stared at her, his mouth deliberately lingering on her white skin, travelling slowly down towards her wrist.

  'I want to take you to bed,' he said thickly. 'You're lovely and desirable and I want you. It's my misfortune that this time I've fallen for a girl who's only half alive, who prefers to be treated like a pretty doll than to be treated as a woman…'

  'This time?' She picked up the words jealously. 'Yes, how many other times have there been, Stonor? How many other women in your life?'

  'Did you imagine I'd led the life of a monk?'

  'Any man I married would have to intend to be faith­ful to me for the rest of his life,' she said miserably.

  'Were we talking about marriage?' he asked gravely.

  She flushed. 'I know you weren't, but I'm not going to bed with you as casually as I would choose a hat, Stonor. When I fall in love it's going to be for keeps.'

  'And I don't qualify,' he murmured.

  'You don't play the game by my rules,' she said.

  'Love has no rules, darling,' he said.

  'It has where I'm concerned.'

  'You've a lot to learn.'

  'Not from you!' she flung.

  'From who, then? This ineffective young archaeologist you've picked up? He looked as inexperienced as you are.'

  'Then perhaps we'll learn together,' she retorted, stand­ing up and moving away towards the door.