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.
Ash was extending his hand to her, and Sophia was far too aware of the need for royal protocol to be observed in public to refuse to take it. It must be because she had been kneeling down for so long that she felt so dizzy, she decided as she got to her feet.
It was Ash who cordially thanked the teachers for permitting them to intrude on the children’s lessons and Ash, too, who shook hands with everyone before exiting the room, leaving her to follow behind him.
Outside, the pungent smell of camel dung stung Sophia’s nose. The animals were tethered close to their owners, as the brightly dressed tribeswomen waited patiently for their children to finish their schooling for the day. The nomad women’s jewellery jangled musically as they made their low bows to Ash, their odhni modestly pulled across their faces to conceal them, the ends fluttering in the dusty breeze.
‘The maharani will travel back with me,’ Ash told her waiting escort, turning to Sophia herself to tell
