At the Sheikh's Bidding(37)

The  world seemed to tilt alarmingly for a few seconds, and Erin   actually  gripped the edge of the wall for support. Zahir and Maryam! It   couldn't  possibly be true-could it? ‘Bisma told me that Zahir was in   love with  his fiancée,' she said faintly. ‘She doesn't know why the   marriage  didn't take place.'

Jahmela gave a careless shrug. ‘Bisma knows.  Everyone at the palace   knows that Zahir adored Maryam, and that she  eloped with his brother on   the eve of their wedding. They were to be  married first, and Faisal   and me a week later. But instead Faisal and  Maryam left a note, saying   that they were in love, and then fled abroad,  leaving me humiliated  and  my father furious that our family had been so  deeply insulted by  the  royal family. That is why the King promised that  Zahir would marry  me,'  Jahmela said coldly. ‘But he suggested that we  wait for a few  years,  until Zahir had come to terms with the fact that  he had been  betrayed  by his brother and the woman he loved. My father  allowed me  to go to  England to study, but now I have my degree and it is  time for  Zahir to  honour the promise made six years ago and make me his   Princess.'

Erin shook her head. ‘If Zahir had really wanted to  marry you, surely   he would have done so during the last six years?' she  said slowly.

‘He was about to,' Jahmela said angrily, her face  suddenly contorting   into a spiteful mask. ‘But then he learned that  Faisal had died and   that Maryam had lost her life shortly after giving  birth to their   child. From the moment Zahir discovered Kazim's existence  he was   utterly determined to claim him-because Kazim is the only link  with the   woman he adored. Every time he looks at the boy he sees Maryam.  He   would have done anything to gain custody of her son-including  marrying a   nonentity like you,' she added scathingly, her eyes settling  on  Erin's  white face.

She laughed unpleasantly, her sharp glance  seeming to see inside Erin's   head. ‘You're in love with him, aren't you?  Oh, my dear, I almost  feel  sorry for you. Even if Zahir was not still  in love with a ghost,  he  would never love you. How could he?' she asked,  her brows arching  in  astonishment at the idea. ‘He is a prince, and you  are … Well … ' Her  mouth  curved into a cruel smile. ‘Let's just say that I  was curious to  find  out more about you, and now I know exactly what you  are. If the  King  knew of your family background, I fear he would not  approve of  you as  Royal Consort.'

Erin shoved her trembling hands  in her lap as Jahmela's words fell on   her like hammer-blows. She felt  strangely light-headed, and was scared   she was about to faint, but some  last vestige of pride brought her  head  up. ‘Even if everything you say  is true, and Zahir is planning to   divorce me,' she whispered through  numb lips, ‘why would you want to   marry him, knowing that he is still in  love with Maryam?'


‘I couldn't care less who he's in love  with,' Jahmela said coolly. ‘Six   years ago I was about to marry a prince  and become a member of the   royal family. I do not fill my head with  stupid dreams of love,' she   added contemptuously. ‘I want a position  within the royal court, and   the social standing that comes with being a  princess. I am already   Zahir's most trusted advisor, and very soon I  will be his wife.'

The supreme confidence in Jahmela's voice was  the final straw, and Erin   staggered to her feet and looked wildly around  her. She was going to   be sick. There was nothing she could do to  prevent it. With a gasp she   ran to a nearby bush and retched. It was  over in moments, leaving her   feeling as though her stomach had been  ripped out, and she was  shaking,  her brow beaded with sweat, when she  stumbled back onto the  path.

Jahmela was frowning in distaste. ‘What's the matter with you? Are you ill?'

Erin  shook her head. No way was she going to give Jahmela the   satisfaction  of knowing how shattering her revelations had been. ‘It's   nothing. I've  been feeling nauseous for the last few days.'                       
       
           



       

‘Really?' Jahmela  gave her a speculative look. ‘And you've developed a   sudden dislike of  coffee. You practically turned green when it was   served at dinner last  night.' Her eyes narrowed. ‘I do hope you're not   pregnant. That could  prove most awkward.'

‘I'm not,' Erin denied instantly, but as she  made a quick mental   calculation her heart missed a beat. ‘But I can see  why you wouldn't   like it if I was.' Erin was down, but Jahmela hadn't  won the fight yet.   ‘Zahir would never divorce me if I was carrying his  child.'

‘No, he wouldn't,' Jahmela agreed. She waited a heartbeat  before   dropping her bombshell. ‘He would wait until after the child was  born   before he dismissed you from his life. And, as I have already    explained, custody of any child you might have would be automatically    awarded to him.'



In less than an hour she was expected to  attend the lavish dinner   organised in honour of King Kahlid's recovery  and his return as supreme   ruler of Qubbah. And somehow she was going to  have to do so without   revealing that she was breaking up inside, Erin  acknowledged   despairingly as she stared in the mirror at her paper-white  face and   red-rimmed eyes.

When she had first returned to the  palace after her explosive   confrontation with Jahmela she'd locked  herself in her dressing room   and recalled in stunned disbelief  everything the young Arab woman had   told her. Could it be true? Had  Zahir always intended to divorce her   once he'd gained custody of Kazim  and marry his beautiful advisor?

She did not know how long she'd  sat there, but eventually her maid had   knocked on the door and reminded  her that it was time to prepare for   the banquet. She should have made  the excuse that she was ill-no one   who saw her pallor would fail to  believe her. But the steely backbone   of pride that had seen her through  so many traumas in her life refused   to bow to Jahmela's spite, and in  fighting spirits she had selected a   stunning black velvet floor-length  gown which clung to her curves like  a  second skin. She'd left her hair  loose, to tumble down her back in a   mass of vibrant curls, but it was  going to take a miracle and a lot  of  make-up to disguise the ravages of  her utter misery, she conceded   bleakly.

She needed to talk to  Zahir, to ask him outright if he was planning to   exchange his wife for a  more sophisticated model, but she dared not   contemplate his reply.  Jahmela's taunts echoed in her head while she   applied taupe eyeshadow to  her lids and highlighted her cheekbones with   blusher in a desperate  attempt to give her face some colour.


She looked different,  somehow, she thought as she stared at her   reflection. And she felt  different-not to mention permanently nauseous.   She couldn't be pregnant.  Her period was only a couple of days late.   It was only when Jahmela had  suggested that she might be carrying   Zahir's child that she'd given any  thought to contraception-or the fact   that they hadn't used any.

The  idea that she might have conceived Zahir's baby filled her with a    mixture of joy and fear. She would love to have a child, a little    brother or sister for Kazim, but the blissful daydream lasted mere    seconds. She dared not tell Zahir.

On their honeymoon he had  revealed a softer side to him, but she'd   rarely seen it since. He had  ruthlessly tricked her into bringing Kazim   to Qubbah, and she knew with  dreadful certainty that if he divorced   her he would never allow her to  keep any child she might have borne   him.



She had no  opportunity to confront him before the banquet. He arrived   with Jahmela a  few minutes late, and remained in deep conversation with   her while they  waited for the servants to seat them at the table.

To Erin's  frustration she was ushered to a chair between two Arab   dignitaries,  while Zahir took his place between Jahmela and the King.   Out of respect  for King Kahlid she pinned a smile on her face and tried   to join in the  conversation, but she was out of her depth with   politics and eventually  lapsed into silence. Jahmela's confident   exchange of views and Zahir's  obvious respect for his advisor   reinforced Erin's belief that he'd  realised he had made a mistake in   marrying her, and she picked at the  food on her plate, unaware of his   concerned glances.