Kitabı oku: «The Governess Tales»

For Sophie and Meic and your happily-ever-after. And for my boys; you are my everything.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Rachel flicked open her fan and wafted it close to her face. She wasn’t sure if moving the warm air around helped to keep her cool, but at this point anything was worth a try. She was hot, hotter than she had ever been before, and she was loving it. For the last four days, ever since she had first entered the desert Kingdom of Huria, Rachel had been overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds, but most of all by the heat.

‘Not far to the palace now.’ Wahid’s voice came from outside the carrying chair.

Pushing back the thin cotton curtain that surrounded her, she gazed over the landscape. They were currently following a well-worn route, winding through the dunes, every minute taking them closer to Rachel’s new life.

‘Please be careful of the sun, sayeda,’ Wahid said in perfect English, using sayeda to address her formally.

Wahid and his small band of guards had been there to meet her four days ago when she had crossed the border into Huria. He had helped her off her weary horse and ushered her into the luxurious carrying chair. Ever since then Rachel had been treated like royalty and every care had been taken for her comfort. When she had accepted the job in a foreign country Rachel had mainly felt excitement, but there had been some anxiety, too. Naturally there had been worries that she might be moving to a country that was less civilised than England, but so far she had experienced a culture and environment that was worlds apart, but certainly not inferior to her homeland.

Rachel took a moment to turn her face up to the sun and enjoy the warmth on her skin. She hadn’t been blessed with a porcelain complexion, her skin was naturally just a shade darker than was considered perfection, but it did mean she could enjoy odd moments in the sunshine without having to worry about turning a horrible red colour or developing freckles.

‘You’ll be able to see the palace once we reach the top of this dune,’ Wahid said.

Rachel fixed her eyes on the horizon and waited. She had been travelling for weeks to reach Huria and during that time she had imagined a thousand different things—sumptuous palaces and whitewashed buildings, arid deserts and dusty plains—but none of her imaginings had prepared her for the sight that confronted her.

Rachel let out a gasp of pleasure. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

For four days Rachel had travelled through the desert and had seen no evidence of any water. When they stopped Wahid had passed her a water bladder filled with lovely, cool liquid, but never had she seen a single spring or stream or lake. There hadn’t been one drop of rain, or even a cloud in the sky. Rachel had begun to think the whole kingdom must exist without water. The sight before her proved her wrong.

There was a wide, flat valley stretching out for a few miles in front of them, and the entire area was a lush paradise. Trees and plants covered the valley floor and the greens of the vegetation contrasted beautifully with the orange sands. Right through the centre of the valley was a vivid slash of blue, a narrow river that supplied this little oasis.

‘The Great Oasis of Huria,’ Wahid said, gesturing to the area before them.

‘There’s so much life, so much vegetation.’

Wahid gave a little chuckle. ‘It’s as though all the plants in Huria are squeezed into this little area.’

The palace itself was built amongst the trees. From the outside it was nowhere near as magnificent as some of the English stately homes Rachel had visited with school, but even from this distance there were clues that the real luxury was reserved for inside the palace. From their vantage point above the oasis Rachel could see magnificent courtyards with bubbling fountains and cool colonnaded passages, all surrounded by vibrant exotic flowers.

As they descended the hill Rachel pulled her head back inside the cotton curtain of the carrying chair and tried to compose herself. For as long as she could remember she had wished for this day. Ever since she was a little girl and her parents had been sending her letters detailing their adventures in far-flung lands Rachel had wanted an adventure of her own. She wanted to experience a different culture, a different way of living, and now was her time.

Rachel badly wanted to make a good impression; she wanted the Sheikh to be impressed with the English governess he had sent for and she wanted to make a difference to his children’s lives. Unlike many of the girls graduating from Madame Dubois’s School for Young Ladies, Rachel had been excited to take up her position as governess, to start her life after school. Whereas other young women dreamed of marriage and a domestic life, Rachel had always wanted to see the world and experience the exotic. As the daughter of a baron, Rachel’s natural position in life would be as wife to a titled gentleman, but she’d always dreamed of more. She wanted freedom and adventure, and to bring some love and affection into the lives of the children in her care.

She loved children. Her one regret about her determination never to marry was that she would never have a brood of her own, but her position as governess at least meant she would be surrounded by little ones her entire life.

As they entered the oasis Rachel took one last deep breath and smiled. This was what all the years of hard work had been leading to; she would not let nerves ruin this experience for her.

As soon as the carrying chair was set down the curtain was pulled back and a hand reached in to take Rachel’s. Effortlessly Rachel was pulled out of the chair and she found herself being ushered up a wide set of stone steps and into a cool chamber.

‘This way, sayeda. Watch your step.’

Rachel’s eyes took a moment to recover from the bright sunlight, but when she had regained her vision she had to stifle a gasp. The room, although not large in size, was beautiful. Beneath her feet was an intricate mosaic that covered the entire floor. The coloured stones made a vibrant picture of what Rachel had to assume was the entire Kingdom of Huria. Deep oranges showed the vast desert and bright splashes of colour the scattered oases.

The beauty of the room did not end with the mosaic. Although the walls were plain they were more than made up for by the numerous plants and flowers that were arranged lovingly around the chamber. Rachel’s eyes were drawn to a plant that had been coaxed to climb up one wall with stunning flowers of vivid pink.

Rachel felt her whole body suffuse with pleasure. Although she had hoped Huria would be the exotic paradise of her dreams, she had never imagined anything as magnificent as this. In all the letters her parents had sent her from their travels they had never described seeing anywhere like this small desert kingdom. A smile spread across Rachel’s lips; she knew she was going to be happy here.

Slowly Rachel stepped further into the room, taking her time to soak up every little detail, not caring that people were probably staring and wondering why she was quite so enamoured with a sight they saw every day. She started to turn towards one of the archways, wanting to catch a glimpse of the courtyard beyond, when a man stepped through the opening and into the chamber. Their eyes met and Rachel felt her heart begin pounding in her chest.

It was the Sheikh, there was no doubt in her mind. He wasn’t dressed richly and he didn’t wear a crown or any jewellery that Rachel could see—in fact, there were other men in the room far more expensively adorned than he was—but Rachel knew he was royalty purely because of his bearing.

As he entered the room he didn’t look from side to side to see who was there—he strode with purpose and vitality. It was the walk of a man who always got what he wanted. His back was straight, his eyes focused, and Rachel knew immediately he would be a hard man to deny anything.

He started to move towards her and Rachel found herself momentarily frozen. His eyes were still locked on hers and for a second she was mesmerised. It was only when he came to a halt before her that Rachel remembered herself and dropped hastily into a low curtsy, lowering her eyes to the floor.

As she rose from the curtsy she couldn’t help but look up at the Sheikh, but as she did so she felt her mouth go dry and her lips quiver slightly. Up close he didn’t just have a regal bearing, he was also disconcertingly handsome. Rachel thought it was probably his eyes that made most ladies swoon—they were a deep, dark brown, inviting and forbidding at the same time. Rachel felt herself swallowing nervously as she took in his perfectly shaped lips, caramel-coloured skin tone and short black hair. The Sheikh was a handsome man and a powerful one—it was a potent combination.

‘Miss Talbot, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.’ The Sheikh’s voice was smooth and confident and Rachel was surprised to find he spoke English with only the mildest hint of an accent. ‘I hope your journey was not too arduous.’

‘You have such a beautiful country,’ Rachel said with a smile. ‘It was a wonderful opportunity to see so much of it.’

The Sheikh studied her as she spoke, and Rachel had to suppress a shiver that ran over her skin. Confidence and power emanated out of him and Rachel felt her pulse begin to quicken as he moved in closer towards her. She had an inexplicable urge to reach out and place a hand on his chest, to feel the hard muscles under her fingers and the heat of his body on her fingertips.

‘We do not have many visitors to our small kingdom, but most who do come cannot see past the barrenness of the desert and stifling heat. They do not see the beauty in the rolling sand dunes and the fortitude of the people who can live under such a burning sun.’

Even though Rachel had only just met the Sheikh, there was enough passion in the few sentences he had spoken to her to show her he truly loved his country. She could tell he was proud of Huria and wanted everyone to view his kingdom with the same love and respect as he did.

‘But enough of that for now,’ the Sheikh said with a small smile that lit up his face. ‘Wahid is always telling me I am far too serious when I speak about the merits of our country.’

‘You cannot browbeat people into loving Huria as you do, Your Majesty,’ Wahid said.

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 bet 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.