Hot Arabian Nights. Marguerite Kaye

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СКАЧАТЬ her, it made Julia’s hackles rise. ‘I am a most astute interpreter of character,’ she said.

      ‘So astute, that you employed a thief as your dragoman.’

      ‘Oh! That was most—’ Once again, she broke off. ‘You are quite correct, of course. It is I who have been unfair, leaping to judge a man I do not know. Not that I am acquainted with Prince George either, but his habits are well established, and—and anyway, Azhar, we have strayed very far from the point. Even if it does make you uncomfortable, all the women were doing was showing you the respect due to their Prince.’

      ‘Even a prince must earn respect, Julia.’ Azhar took off his headdress, refolded it and replaced it. ‘It was not my intention to be rude. I—’

      A woman bearing a huge tray of tea things interrupted him. She was followed by Johara, who ushered them both to take their places on the cushions by the low table. As the sweet mint tea was poured with due ceremony, Azhar asked Johara to explain her craft for Julia’s benefit, translating the old woman’s words and Julia’s eager questions. Though she had encountered some of the plants mentioned, many were strange to her, either due to their local names, or simply because she had never encountered them before. Questions, more questions and yet more, Julia threw at Johara via Azhar, as the encyclopaedic extent of the woman’s knowledge became apparent. Finally, Johara clapped her hands and summoned one of her daughters.

      The book which was reverently laid on the table was folio-sized, bound in dark-red leather, and clearly ancient. ‘You are privileged indeed,’ Azhar said. ‘This book has been passed from mother to daughter in Johara’s family for more than two centuries.’

      The illustrations were so beautiful that Julia gasped. Plants, flowers, trees and roots, one species to a page, below which were what she assumed to be recipes for medicinal potions, documented in minute Arabic script. Julia carefully turned the pages, tracing the delicate paintings with her fingers. ‘These are wonderful. Please tell Johara that I am extremely honoured, that I have never seen anything quite so exquisite. Shukran,’ she said, putting her hands together. ‘Please tell her that I am very, very grateful.’

      ‘Johara says that you are welcome to copy the drawings if you wish, but you must not transcribe the recipes, or a curse will befall you and your family,’ Azhar said. ‘It is a warning I would not ignore lightly. But I thought you may prefer to take the likenesses of some of the specimens in their natural habitat. Many of them grow here at the oasis. Johara’s daughter will show you where, if you wish.’

      ‘If I wish! When may we start? Oh, I did not mean to be rude, but...’

      ‘But you are anxious to begin your task,’ Azhar said, smiling. ‘We have about four hours before we must leave.’

      ‘Thank you. Oh, thank you so much, but what about you, what will you do while I am working?’

      ‘I have ten years of history to uncover, Julia. I shall not lack occupation.’

      * * *

      As Azhar waited for Johara to summon the women of the village, he watched Julia heading off to the other end of the oasis with mixed feelings. The honesty he had requested of her came at a price. She saw too much. More, he suspected, than she chose to share with him. He suspected too, that he would prefer her to keep those thoughts to herself.

      Her perception discomfited him, surprising him into confidences he would rather not make, forcing him to confront facts he would prefer to ignore. His people’s unwarranted adulation, for example. Did they not realise that he had abandoned them? He had expected resentment at his return, sullen acceptance at best. If only his brother had made more of an effort to endear himself to the people. He’d had ten years to prove himself worthy. But then, hadn’t Kamal always held the belief that birthright alone was sufficient? Recalling Julia’s comparison of his brother and the English—what did she call him?—popinjay Prince, Azhar snorted in amusement. It was apt, there was no denying that. He wasn’t quite sure what a popinjay was, but he could imagine.

      Yes, Julia saw too much, but Julia had not the full picture. If she did, she would understand—Azhar caught himself short. He needed her honesty, but not her understanding. He had no need to explain himself to Julia. Even if she was correct about the adulation. It was odd, he had no compunction in misleading Kamal and his Council, he had been most careful to tell no lies, even when he revealed only part of the truth. But it sat very ill with him to be misleading the people.

      Outside, the women had gathered. What he intended to do was for their own good. And his. It was the only possible outcome. But in the meantime, as Julia had pointed out, coronation or not, he owed those who thought themselves his subjects some respect. Picking up his keffiyeh, refolding it carefully, Azhar headed outside to demonstrate that fact.

       Chapter Five

      It was early evening by the time they returned to the palace. Azhar escorted Julia to her quarters, carrying her drawing materials, which he now set down on the table in her sitting room.

      ‘Thank you so much for this opportunity, Azhar. I have completed more drawings in one afternoon than I have previously managed in two or three days in the open desert. I only wish I could speak your language more fluently, I have a thousand questions I’d have liked to have asked Johara. She is one of the most knowledgeable herbalists I have ever met.’

      ‘And you have encountered many such women on your travels?’ he asked.

      ‘Several. They have proved to be of immense help in compiling Daniel’s book.’ Julia smothered a yawn. ‘I beg your pardon, it has been a very long day, though a most productive one—at least from my point of view. I am afraid I was not of much assistance to you.’ She slanted him a look. He had pulled off his headdress, and was standing at the window, staring out at her little courtyard. ‘To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what you expect of me.’

      ‘To speak your mind, as you did today,’ Azhar replied ruefully. ‘It was not my intention to offend the village women, but I did. You quite rightly pointed it out to me, for which I am most grateful.’

      ‘But the important thing is that you took steps to remedy the situation,’ Julia said. ‘I saw you talking to them.’ She went over to stand next to him, pulling open one of the long windows to let in the faint evening breeze. ‘You do care, no matter how much you deny it.’

      Azhar stepped out on to the terrace, indicating that she should follow. ‘It is incumbent upon me, Julia, to behave honourably, that is all.’

      ‘As a prince of royal blood, you mean?’

      ‘Yes, but also as a man.’

      ‘That, I would never doubt. You could easily have left me at the oasis, but your conscience would not let you, and for that I will always be eternally grateful. To the man, not the Prince.’

      It was dusk, and though they were in the middle of a palace, in the middle of a city, it was that time of the evening when a stillness, a silence fell over everything like a cloak. Azhar slid his arms around her, pulling her towards him. There were only a few layers of cotton and silk between them. His hand slid down to rest on the small of her back. ‘Julia?’

      Her stomach knotted. She ran her fingers through the short, soft silk of his hair. ‘Azhar?’

      ‘We are not on a camel now.’

      ‘No, СКАЧАТЬ