If the prince did give her this commission, then at least she would be earning enough to ensure that Tanya did not have to work away from home. She knew her sister wanted to be independent, but there were Fleur’s needs to be considered as well, and besides…
She was going to miss Fleur dreadfully when the time came to hand her back to her mother, Mariella acknowledged. She was just beginning to realise what her determination never to become involved in a permanent relationship was going to mean to her in terms of missing out on motherhood.
A little nervously, Mariella smoothed down the fabric of her skirt. She had arrived at the palace half an hour ago to see the prince, who was going to give her his verdict on whether or not he wanted her to go ahead with the frieze.
A shy nursemaid had already arrived to take Fleur from her, and now Mariella peeped anxiously at her watch. Fleur hadn’t slept very well the previous night and Mariella suspected that she was cutting another new tooth.
‘Miss Sutton, His Highness will see you now.’
‘Ah, Mariella…’
‘Highness,’ Mariella responded as she was waved onto one of the silk-covered divans set around the walls of the huge audience room.
Almost immediately a servant appeared to offer her coffee and delicious-looking almond pastries glistening with honey and stuffed with raisins.
‘I am pleased to inform you that I have decided to commission you to work on the frieze,’ the prince announced. ‘The sooner you can complete it, the better—we have lots of other work to do before the official opening.’
Quickly Mariella put down her coffee-cup and then covered it with her hand as she saw that the hovering servant was about to refill it.
Whilst he padded away silently the prince frowned.
‘However, there is one matter that is of some concern to me.’
He was still worrying about her ability to get the work finished on time, Mariella guessed, but instead of confirming her suspicions the prince got up and picked up a newspaper from the low table in front of him.
‘This is our popular local newspaper,’ he told her. ‘Its gossip column is a great favourite and widely read.’
As he spoke he was opening the paper.
‘There is here a report of our charity breakfast, and, as you will see, a rather intimate photograph of you with Sheikh Xavier Al Agir.’
Mariella’s heart bumped against the bottom of her chest, her fingers trembling slightly as she studied the photograph the prince was showing her.
It took her several seconds to recognise that it had been taken when she and Xavier had been quarrelling, because it looked for all the world as though they were indeed engaged in a very intimate conversation, their heads close together, her lips parted, Xavier’s head bent towards her, his gaze fixed on her mouth, whilst Fleur, whom she was holding in her arms, beamed happily at him.
Even though she had not eaten any of the pastries, Mariella was beginning to feel sick.
The article accompanying the photograph read:
Who was the young woman who Sheikh Xavier was so intimately engaged in conversation with? The sheikh is known for his strong moral beliefs and his dedication to his role as leader of the Al Agir tribe, and yet he was seen recently at the prince’s charity breakfast, engaged in what appeared to be a very private conversation with one specific female guest on two separate occasions! Could it be that the sheikh has finally chosen someone to share his life? And what of the baby the unknown young woman is holding? What is her connection with the sheikh?
‘In this country, unlike your own, a young woman alone with a child does cause a certain amount of speculation and disapproval. It is plain from the tone of this article that the reporter believes you and Xavier to be Fleur’s parents…’ the prince told Mariella, his voice very stern.
‘But that is not true, Your Highness. We are not,’ Mariella protested immediately. ‘Fleur is my niece.’
‘Of course. I fully accept what you are saying, but I think for your own sake that some kind of formal response does need to be made to this item. Which is why I have already instructed my staff to get in touch with the paper and to give them the true facts and to explain that Fleur is in fact your niece and that you are in Zuran to work for me. Hopefully that will be an end to the matter!’
Mariella frowned as for the third time in as many hours her sister’s mobile was switched onto her message-taking service.
Why wasn’t Tanya returning her calls?
Because of the length of time it was going to take her to complete the frieze, it had been decided that, instead of her returning to England as had originally been planned, she and Fleur should remain in Zuran so that she could commence work immediately.
The prince had announced that she would be provided with a small apartment and the use of a car, and Mariella was planning a shopping trip to equip both herself and Fleur for their unexpected extended stay.
Fleur’s new tooth had now come through and the baby was back to her normal happy self.
Someone was knocking on the door of the bungalow and Mariella went to open it, expecting to see a member of the Beach Club’s staff, but instead to her consternation it was Xavier who was standing outside.
Without waiting for her invitation he strode into the room, slamming the door closed behind him.
‘Perhaps you can explain the meaning of this to me,’ he challenged her sarcastically, throwing down the copy of the newspaper she had been reading earlier, open at the gossip column page.
‘I don’t have to explain anything to you, Xavier,’ Mariella replied as calmly as she could.
‘It says here that you are not Fleur’s mother.’
‘That’s right,’ she agreed. ‘I’m not! I’m her aunt. My sister Tanya is her mother… and the woman who I have had to listen to you denouncing and abusing so slanderously and unfairly! And, for your information, Tanya is not, as you have tried to imply, some… some…
she is a professional singer and dancer, and, whilst you may not consider her good enough for your precious cousin, let me tell you that in my opinion he is the one who isn’t good enough for her… not for her and certainly not for Fleur!’ All the anger and anguish Mariella had been bottling up inside her was exploding in a surge of furious words.
‘Your cousin told Tanya that he loved her and that he was committed to her and then he left her and Fleur! Have you any idea just what that did to Tanya? I was there when Fleur was born, I heard Tanya cry out for the man she loved. It’s all so easy for a man, isn’t it? If he doesn’t want the responsibility of a woman’s love or the child they create together, he can just walk away. You don’t know what it means to be a child growing up knowing that your father didn’t want or love you, and knowing too that your mother could never again be the person she was before her heart was broken. I would never, ever let any man hurt me the way Tanya has been hurt!’
‘You wantonly and deliberately let me think that you and Khalid were lovers,’ Xavier interrupted
