when he smiled he was more than handsome. Rachel felt her skin start to tingle and her lips felt unusually dry. Maybe it was a good thing he was so serious most of the time—if he smiled at everyone then no one would ever get anything done.
She rallied, chastising herself. It was her first golden rule of being a governess: don’t fall for your employer. Such thoughts had been the downfall of so many young governesses and Rachel was determined not to be one of them. Besides, whenever she conversed with the Sheikh they always seemed to end up butting heads over their differing opinions. It was just his smile that had put her a little off balance, nothing more.
‘Wonderful,’ Rachel said sunnily, trying to hide the slight tremor in her voice.
‘Maybe you should take the lead,’ the Sheikh said. ‘I don’t want to undermine your authority. You have to be with her every day.’
Rachel nodded her agreement. It was exactly what she would have suggested, but his reasons for letting her take the lead made Rachel a little sad. She knew things were different for royalty—the Sheikh had to focus on running his kingdom—but Rachel knew all too well how upsetting it was when your parents left decisions on your upbringing to others.
From a young age Rachel could remember realising her parents were much more interested in each other than they were in her. They had had a tempestuous relationship—blazing rows one minute, elaborate shows of affection another. She could recall many nights sitting at the top of the stairs listening to them shouting and throwing things at each other. The next day it would be back to kisses and pet names, all the while hardly remembering they had a daughter quietly taking it all in. By the age of eight Rachel had known she never wanted to marry if this was what it turned you into and, by the time she arrived at Madame Dubois’s School for Young Ladies, she had decided she would much rather travel the world and make her own enjoyment than be stuck in a marriage such as her parents’. She felt she had always been destined to be a governess, but unlike many of her contemporaries, Rachel had looked forward to her chosen career with anticipation. She didn’t want to be tied down, married to someone who made her miserable, not when she could be making a difference to young lives. Rachel knew many children experienced the same benign neglect as she had, and as a governess she could give these emotionally abandoned children the affection their parents couldn’t. If she was completely honest with herself, the knowledge that she would never have children of her own made Rachel a little sad, but it was a sacrifice she had come to terms with.
Ameera’s situation wasn’t exactly like hers, but Rachel could empathise with the young girl. She was craving attention from her father, just like Rachel had from her parents, and he didn’t know how to give it to her.
‘Shall we?’ The Sheikh motioned towards the door and Rachel found herself immediately moving that way. He was a man used to being obeyed without question and that was powerful all in itself.
They crossed the courtyard in silence, walking quickly to get out of the blazing sun, then ascended the stairs to Ameera’s room. Rachel knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for an answer before turning the handle and stepping inside.
It was dark in the room compared to the courtyard and Rachel’s eyes took a moment to adjust. She glanced around the room and saw Ameera had pulled her books and her toys from the shelves in anger. For now Rachel would ignore the mess and instead she crossed to the bed where two wide, dark eyes were staring at her mutinously from out of the darkness.
Rachel sat, taking a moment to smooth her skirts and ensure she was comfortable. Ameera was a wilful little madam and they might be here for a while. She was pleased to see the Sheikh had hung back, standing by the door, silent but very much present in the room.
‘Good afternoon, Ameera,’ Rachel said.
The young girl stared back at her, lips firmly pressed together.
‘Have you been having fun in here?’ Rachel asked, looking around as if she genuinely didn’t know that Ameera had been sent to her room for bad behaviour.
Still silence. Already Rachel could see a flicker of triumph in the young girl’s eyes and she had to quash her own smile. The day Rachel was outmanoeuvred by a pupil was the day she gave up being a governess.
The Sheikh shifted his position behind them, but still remained silent.
‘I would like you to apologise, Ameera, to myself and to your father.’
‘No.’
‘Very well.’ Rachel stood and turned to leave. She counted the steps in her head and only got to four before Ameera’s voice burst through the silence.
‘That’s it?’ she asked. ‘You’re not going to force me to apologise?’
Rachel shook her head. ‘I’m not going to force you to apologise, Ameera.’ She continued walking to the door, stopping only when she was level with the Sheikh.
‘It’s a shame,’ she said, ‘but we tried.’
Rachel hoped the Sheikh would catch on and not spoil her little ruse.
‘We tried,’ he repeated, solemnly nodding his head.
Rachel had her hand on the door handle when she heard Ameera standing up.
‘Why is it a shame?’ she asked in a much-less-defiant voice than before.
‘Well, we’ve baked biscuits,’ Rachel said, ‘and your father was telling me how you love sweet things, so we thought we’d come in and give you the chance to apologise and come and join us once the biscuits are out of the oven.’
‘I can’t be bribed,’ the little Princess said in a voice that said she could quite easily be bribed.
‘And then there was the little excursion next week...’ Rachel let her sentence trail off. ‘Hakim will be ever so disappointed, but I can’t take your brothers and leave you here unsupervised.’
‘Excursion?’ Ameera asked.
Rachel nodded. ‘Hakim was so looking forward to it.’
She knew it was important to give Ameera a way to save face. The little girl had declared she would never apologise and now Rachel was asking her to go back on that. She needed a way to justify it to herself.
Ameera fiddled with a strand of hair for a moment, twisting it round her finger. Just as she’d planned, Rachel could smell the first wafts of the scent of biscuits baking.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ameera mumbled.
‘If you are going to apologise, Ameera, you need to do it properly, otherwise there’s no point in doing it at all.’
The little Princess looked up at her and took a deep breath.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Talbot, for being rude.’
Rachel smiled warmly. ‘Thank you for apologising, Ameera, it was very big of you.’
For a moment they stood looking at each other. Then Ameera launched herself across the room, and gave Rachel a quick hug. Rachel stroked the young girl’s hair and felt herself relax. Soon she would be able to start breaking down the walls these children had built to defend themselves from the pain of their mother’s death. Soon she would be able to start to help them heal. She glanced briefly at the
