sake, Evie!’ her mother cried out in angry frustration. Stepping forward, she grabbed hold of Evie’s arm so she could spin her round to face her. ‘When are you going to—?’
‘Aagh!’ Evie’s strangled shriek of agony slicing through the air utterly silenced her mother.
Where he came from, Evie had no conception, but suddenly Asim was standing right there beside them, and was taking hold of her mother’s wrist in a grip that grimly prised her fingers from Evie’s arm.
‘What on earth…?’ Lucinda choked in shocked incredulity.
‘Your daughter has an injury to the arm you hold,’ Asim answered as he let go of her mother.
‘An injury?’ Lucinda gasped. ‘What kind of injury? What have you people been doing to her?’
‘It was an accident.’ Raschid’s tight voice entered the tension. ‘Evie scalded herself this morning.’
‘You scalded yourself?’ her mother repeated, aiming the stunned question at Evie.
But Evie couldn’t answer. She was too busy cradling her arm where the burning pain was making her feel weak and dizzy. Her face had gone white and her body was trembling with aftershocks of an unbelievable agony.
‘Sit down, for goodness’ sake!’ Raschid raked angrily at her. And before she knew it Evie was being unceremoniously dumped into the nearest chair. ‘Asim!’ He turned that anger on the servant next. ‘Do something!’
With his usual calm, Asim was already squatting down beside Evie and gently taking hold of her arm while Evie just sat, eyes closed, face drained, and shook violently.
‘What does he know about burns?’ Lucinda put in shrilly.
‘More than most,’ Raschid gratingly replied.
‘But she needs to see a damned doctor!’ Lucinda declared in protest as she stood by watching in pulsing horror while Asim began to gently unwrap Evie’s injured arm.
In a paper-dry tone that scraped over everyone, Raschid drawled, ‘She is seeing one right now.’
It was shocking enough news to bring Evie’s eyes open to stare at the servant in dumb disbelief. Asim caught the look and smiled briefly. ‘I have been Sheikh Raschid’s personal physician since the day he was born,’ he quietly explained.
‘Well, you old fraud,’ she breathed. ‘You’ve let me believe you were nothing more than chief cook and bottle-washer here for the last two years!’
‘As you know,’ he replied dryly, ‘he is rarely ill.’
‘Ouch!’ she gasped when he touched a particularly tender spot on her arm.
Looking down, she saw that the skin had blistered. Over her head, she heard Raschid mutter something. Her mother, it seemed, had been struck totally speechless.
‘A burns specialist, Asim?’ Raschid demanded harshly.
‘No, sir,’ the other man replied. ‘But I will need my bag,’ he said, getting up. ‘If you will excuse me for a moment.’
Walking away, he left an atmosphere behind him that would have split atoms. Raschid stood to one side of Evie, her mother on the other. And Evie herself kept her face lowered because she just didn’t feel up to dealing with either of them right now.
‘I’m sorry, Evie.’ Her mother’s voice sounded unsteady. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘I know,’ she replied. ‘To be honest, I had forgotten about it myself until you touched it.’
‘But it looks so dreadful!’
Evie just smiled bleakly to herself because there was no way she could tell her mother that the blisters which were now broken and weeping were where her fingers had gripped.
‘Was this what you meant when you said she wasn’t well?’
The question was aimed at Raschid, but Evie answered. ‘Yes,’ she said firmly.
‘No,’ Raschid coolly contradicted her. ‘Evie was feeling unwell because she is pregnant…’
On a sigh that came from the weary depths of her body, Evie sank more deeply into the soft-cushioned chair and closed her eyes again as the new silence that followed that announcement began to explode all around her. And for the space of the next thirty teeth-gritting seconds no one moved, no one spoke, while they waited for her mother’s inevitable reaction.
Yet, when it did come, it wasn’t what Evie was expecting. She was expecting anger, disgust, even biting condemnation aimed at both of them. What she got was a groan that had her mother sinking heavily into the nearest chair.
‘Oh, Evie…’ Lucinda sighed out painfully. ‘How could you—how could you?’
Evie’s eyes snapped open, the tone threading through her words bringing a flash of bright anger into her eyes.
‘Are you daring to imply that I got pregnant deliberately?’ she demanded.
Her mother didn’t need to answer the charge because it was already written in large letters across her pained face.
‘I don’t believe,’ she breathed, hurt—so hurt she couldn’t contain it, ‘that my own mother could suspect me of doing something so crass!’
‘Accidents like this just don’t happen in this day and age, Evie.’
‘No?’ she choked, lurching to her feet like a wounded soldier, with her injured arm cradled against her throbbing breasts. ‘Well, just look at me, Mother!’ she commanded furiously. ‘Because what you are seeing is one hell of an accident!’
‘Evie—’ It was Raschid who used that rough-toned appeal on her. ‘Your mother meant no offence. It was a natural assumption to make…’
Was it? Was it really? she thought, turning flashing eyes on him. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me before,’ she breathed shakily. ‘But—have you been secretly thinking the same thing?’
‘No,’ he sighed, but he looked away from her as he said it, and the horrible realisation that the two people she loved most in the world could think she would sink that low struck a severe enough blow to make her sway where she stood.
And suddenly she knew she had taken enough. Her chin came up, her eyes glassing over as she flicked her gaze from one uncomfortable face to the other. ‘I don’t think I will ever forgive either of you for this,’ she told them.
Then, grimly clinging to what was left of her pride after their mutual slaying of it, she turned and walked away.
Asim was just coming back into the room as Evie swept coldly by him. Whatever passed between him and Raschid via the silent clash of their eyes Evie didn’t know or even care. But she had only just sunk weakly down on to the side of the bed when Asim knocked on the bedroom door then let himself into the room.
‘I must see to your arm,’ he quietly explained.
Evie
