scathing about her harem outfit, she told Felicia, adding that she found her uncle changed of late, less inclined to show humorous indulgence, his temper sharper.
‘When I asked him why Faisal could not come home for my birthday, he really snapped my head off. He and Faisal have never got on,’ she admitted. ‘Raschid thinks Faisal should be more conscious of his duty.’
A duty which no doubt included marriage to a girl of his own kind, Felicia thought wryly.
DESPITE THE laughter at the breakfast table Felicia felt as though a lead weight were attached to her heart. She had barely slept, tossing and turning, almost at one point ready to go to Raschid and tell him that she wanted to leave, but always the thought of his contemptuous indifference held her back, making it impossible for her to confess that he had been right and she wrong.
Zahra had been thrilled with her perfume, and Felicia’s thoughts turned automatically to the unopened bottle in her drawer. One day, when her heart was less tender, she would open it, and the scent would bring back memories of that dusty alley and the feel of Raschid’s hands on her skin.
All night long she had battled with her pride, and at last in the soft pearly light of the false dawn had admitted the truth. She loved Raschid. Only he had the key to awaken her dormant emotions, to draw from her a response she had never thought herself capable of giving. To no other man had she reacted as she did to Raschid. For no other man had her body quivered with deep, aching need, which overcame all her fears of rejection, built up during her lonely childhood. Raschid had the power to make her forget every single consideration but the overpowering need to satisfy the throbbing hunger his touch awoke within her.
Now she could admit that what she had felt for Faisal was merely gratitude for his attention to her. She had accepted his kisses without being stirred by them, thinking her lack of response sprang from some coldness in her nature, but Raschid had proved once and for all that this was not true. With Faisal she had always been passive, content to follow his lead, but in Raschid’s arms she knew a longing to be consumed by the fierce passion of which she knew instinctively he was capable. Those fires would never burn for her. She knew that now, and every instinct for self-preservation warned her to flee before Raschid discovered her vulnerability.
She closed her eyes, her face pale, startled when Nadia asked anxiously if she was all right.
All right! She smiled hollowly. She doubted if she would ever be ‘all right’ again, but since she could not say so she smiled weakly and brushed aside Nadia’s kind concern.
The fortress owned by Saud’s family was a huge pile of stone perched grimly on a rocky outcrop and commanding excellent views of the surrounding countryside—a reminder of the days when his forebears would have lived by preying off unwary travellers or other tribes daring or desperate enough to cross their territory.
Here the old ways still held sway. They drove in under a formidable stone gateway and the women were led to a side entrance, barely discernible. Following Umm Faisal’s example, Felicia removed her slippers as they entered the dark cavernous hallway.
Saud’s mother came forward to greet them. The traditional Arabic welcome and prayers for a long and healthy life were exchanged. The visitors were led to opulent cushions spread about the room, Felicia’s muscles protesting a little as she tried to imitate the grace of the others.
In addition to Saud’s mother there were various aunts and cousins, all of whom had to be introduced to the visitor from England, although Felicia was aware that their real interest was, quite naturally, in Zahra.
It was Nadia who whispered to her that to mention the marriage before it was a fait accompli was to put the ‘evil eye’ upon it, but there was no mistaking the value of the expensive gifts they pressed upon a blushing Zahra.
One of the women, obviously very old, commanded Felicia to come forward.
‘That is Saud’s grandmother,’ Nadia whispered. ‘She has seen six sons die in defence of their country, and even His Highness puts great store by her advice.’
Felicia could well understand why. Despite the simplicity of her clothes, the strangeness of her henna-patterned hands and feet, Felicia knew she was in the presence of great wisdom. Although she spoke very little English, her eyes were shrewd as they assessed Felicia’s slender beauty. She said something in Arabic to Umm Faisal, who responded:
‘She said that you are very like the English girl who married her third cousin—she means Raschid’s grandfather.’
The visit seemed to last for a long time. A maid came round a second time with fresh coffee. Felicia found the ceremony endlessly fascinating. Zahra told her now to shake her coffee cup to signify that she had had sufficient to drink, and she also added the warning that it was considered impolite not to drink at least three of the small cups of the beverage.
Arabs placed great store by hospitality and ritual, as Felicia was coming to learn, and to refuse what was given so graciously could be considered a grave insult.
The visit was obviously a formal one, but when the other ladies rose to leave, Umm Faisal and Zahra were invited to stay on. Nadia touched Felicia’s arm, indicating that she leave with her.
‘Raschid is discussing the final arrangements for Zahra’s dowry; Saud’s mother will want to talk about the wedding, so you and I will walk in the courtyard and let them get on with it.’
It was pleasantly cool in the garden, and Felicia felt her tensed nerves relax for the first time since the previous day.
‘You do not like Raschid, do you?’ Nadia asked shrewdly, out of the blue. ‘I have seen the look in your eyes whenever he is mentioned. What is wrong? Can you not tell me?’
‘He does not approve of my… my relationship with Faisal,’ Felicia admitted, glad of the opportunity to unburden herself. ‘He thinks me a woman of the very worst sort—avaricious, designing…. It is natural for him to want to protect your brother….’
‘But not natural to be so blind,’ Nadia interposed softly. ‘Not Raschid, whose astuteness is fabled within our family. He treats you as he treats no other woman, Felicia. You must know of his English blood? He has learned to guard his heart well, so that it is like an inner courtyard, its beauties revealed only to a privileged few.’
Felicia’s heart ached with the weight of a thousand unshed tears. The delights Nadia’s words painted so vividly were not for her.
‘Raschid has no interest in me, other than an overriding desire for me to return home,’ Felicia told her quietly. ‘And were it not for the fact that if I left now it would spoil some of Zahra’s pleasure in her birthday, I assure you I would already be gone.’
‘Zahra is fond of you,’ Nadia agreed. ‘But as to your presence here, that is as Allah wills it.’
No, it was as Raschid willed it, Felicia thought despairingly. He alone had the power to banish her at will! If only she dared confide in Nadia and beg her help. She still had some of her savings left. Perhaps if she could borrow her fare from Nadia she could repay it within a few months if she was really careful with her budget. She started to speak, but Nadia stopped her. ‘Quickly!’ she urged. ‘We must return to the harem.’
She whisked Felicia inside so quickly that she barely had time to comprehend what was happening, before Nadia was pulling her veil across her face and hurrying her away.
In the distance she
