plan to send Aahil to Europe when he is a little older to complete his education, I want him to be ready for that.’ Malik tried to say the words softly, but even to his ears they had an edge to them.
‘He will be,’ Miss Talbot ground out.
Malik could see she was fighting to keep her composure in front of the children. Quickly she spun on her heel and whisked the trays of biscuits into the big oven.
‘They will take about twenty minutes to cook, boys,’ she said with a smile. ‘I will keep an eye on them whilst you go and choose a book each for story time.’
Malik watched as his children dashed passed him. Hakim stopped on the way to give his governess a floury hug, his little hands leaving white handprints on her skirt. Far from being annoyed at the mess, Miss Talbot just laughed and ushered the boy out of the kitchen. Malik felt a little stab of disappointment that Hakim didn’t stop to hug him, but he supposed he’d never encouraged such behaviour.
There was a long silence in the kitchen as Miss Talbot seemed to consider her next words. Malik had the feeling he was going to see a side to her he had never before witnessed.
‘Your Highness,’ she said coolly, ‘I think we need to acknowledge our very different priorities in the education of your children.’
It was the first time Malik had seen her without a smile on her face and he realised he might have pushed her too far.
‘I would like to assure you that, although I may seem to indulge the children in fun behaviour, Aahil will be ready to study in Europe when he is older, Ameera will be suitably educated to marry well and whatever plan you have for little Hakim will be realised as well.’
There was a steeliness behind her eyes as she spoke and Malik couldn’t help but admire her courage and determination.
‘But I would like to make one thing clear...’ She paused and stepped closer, so close that Malik could smell that enticing scent of rose and lavender again. ‘If I am to remain as the children’s governess, I will do things my own way. The children will learn everything that you wish them to, but I will not trap them in a classroom to wither in the dark. I will nurture not only their minds, but their bodies and their souls, too. There will be laughter and there will be fun.’
She stopped speaking and they held each other’s eye for well over a minute. Malik knew they were at a vital point in their employer–employee relationship. He didn’t doubt—as much as Miss Talbot loved his children already and was enjoying her time here in Huria—that she would return home rather than teach in a way that went against her principles.
Suddenly Malik realised he didn’t want her to leave. Ever since she had walked into the palace, her face glowing with pleasure, she had injected a happiness into a place that had been consumed with grief and guilt for too long. He hadn’t heard his children laugh for months, but in the past two weeks every time he stepped outside there was a giggle or a shout of joy. Her methods weren’t what he had expected, not what he had wanted when he had sent for an English governess, but he couldn’t deny the children were responding to her. As long as they came out of it with an education, maybe it didn’t matter too much how they got it. Even if his father really wouldn’t have approved.
Malik took a step back. The proximity to the delicious-smelling Miss Talbot made something stir deep inside him that he didn’t want to admit to.
‘You will remain as the children’s governess,’ he said gruffly.
He wanted to say more, wanted to explain how in the past year he had felt adrift, with a chasm opening up between him and his children that he didn’t know how to bridge. Malik knew he blamed himself for Aliyyah’s death and knew the children probably did, too. He’d retreated into himself a little, giving everything to the kingdom as his own father had taught him, and not knowing how to help his sons and daughter grieve and move on.
Miss Talbot nodded once and turned back to clearing up the mess the children had made on the counter.
Malik rallied. He was Sheikh, ruler of the proud Kingdom of Huria, and he was good at it. No one had prepared him for the role of widowed parent, but he did know how to run his kingdom. He would just have to do his job and let Miss Talbot do hers.
* * *
Rachel took some deep breaths and started to count to a hundred in her head. Even though she was facing away from him, she could still feel the Sheikh’s presence in the kitchen. His power and determination seemed to radiate from him wherever he went.
She couldn’t quite believe how she had just confronted him, he was, after all, not only her employer, but also royalty, but Rachel had always felt her first responsibility was to the children in her care. When she was a child she had wished for a champion, someone who would stand up and tell her parents what she really needed, but instead she’d had governesses with weak personalities who just agreed with whatever their employers said.
Rachel reached a hundred and was surprised to find the Sheikh still standing in the same position in the kitchen. She knew others sometimes mistook her passion for rudeness or disrespect and hoped the Sheikh wasn’t about to tell her to pack her bags and leave because of insubordination. Miss Fanworth, her favourite teacher at Madame Dubois’s School for Young Ladies, had always cautioned her over her trait for speaking out, never trying to stifle Rachel’s personality, but advising her to balance her forthrightness with a way to move forward after she’d said her bit.
The Sheikh was frowning, an expression that did nothing to mar his near-perfect features, and Rachel wondered not for the first time what was going on inside his head. She could see something was holding him back from his children, even from life itself, and although being brought up knowing your first duty was to your country would certainly change your perspective on life, Rachel didn’t think it was enough to account for the distance he seemed to keep from everyone.
She supposed he could still be in mourning for his late wife, although in the two weeks Rachel had been at the palace she had heard quite a lot of gossip about their relationship. Rachel had always had a talent for making friends easily and people seemed to like opening up to her, so she had heard how the couple had remained distant despite being married for almost a decade.
Aahil, Ameera and Hakim were cared for, their father was ensuring they got a good education and were always safe, but Rachel knew something else integral was missing and she was determined to help this little family find it.
‘If you do not have to rush back, I think it might be a good idea for us to go and see Ameera together.’
She saw the Sheikh glance towards the door as if wondering if he could make a speedy escape. Rachel found herself holding her breath, wondering if this father would step up and make an extra effort with his children, even though he was struggling.
‘Of course,’ he said after a few seconds of internal debate.
‘Maybe we could discuss how best to approach the situation,’ Rachel suggested, knowing they would both have to present a united front if Ameera was to understand the lesson they were trying to teach her.
‘I won’t go blundering in,’ the Sheikh said with a half-smile.
Rachel found herself momentarily unable to speak. The Sheikh didn’t smile much—in fact, Rachel wasn’t sure if she had ever seen anything more than an amused upturning of his lips before now—but when he did smile it was devastating. He was a handsome man, Sheikh Malik bin Jalal al-Mahrouky,
