Desert Fantasies(53)

She pulled her hair off her neck and, taking the band from her wrist, twisted it up into a loose ponytail. ‘It’s so hot. Do you want another drink?’

Rashid shook his head.

‘I will.’ She got up and went inside for a moment or two, returning with a second pineapple juice with twice the amount of ice. ‘I’m sorry you can’t see your father before he dies,’ she said, sitting down again, ‘but I think you’re right. Bahiyaa needs you more. What does Prince Hanif say about it?’

‘Very little. I’ve persuaded Hanif it’s better if he doesn’t. Bahiyaa is safe with me and that’s really all that’s important. There is nothing to be gained by both of us making the same sacrifice.’

‘Difficult for him, though.’

‘Yes.’

‘I wish life wasn’t so complicated,’ she said on a sigh.

Rashid watched the shadow pass over her face, and wondered what she was thinking about, fearing he knew.

‘It’s so hot,’ she said again, holding the iced glass against her cheek. ‘How do people cope in summer?’

‘By shutting the doors and giving thanks you live in an age of air-conditioning.’ His head nodded towards the French doors propped open. ‘It’s an option now. You’d be cooler inside.’

She gave a soft laugh. ‘That would feel like cheating. There was no air-conditioning when my great-great-grandmother lived here. I wonder how long it took her to adjust to the temperatures. You kind of imagine she’d have taken the whole thing in her stride, don’t you?’

A shrill beep caught his attention. ‘Is that your phone?’

Polly jumped up. ‘Yes, I think it must be. I’m so rubbish with these things. Half the time I’ve not got it switched on and the other half I forget where I’ve put it.’

Rashid let his eyes wander out over the manicured gardens of the Al-Ruwi Palace Hotel while he waited for her to return. He still needed to tell her about her stepbrother. There was a situation that wasn’t fixable.

‘Well, that was Graham,’ Polly said, returning. ‘Just checking I didn’t wish to join them for lunch. I’m really not that hungry when it’s hot like this.’

‘In Amrah we tend to opt for a simple rice dish midday,’ he agreed, absent-mindedly. The trouble with delaying telling Polly the truth was that it felt dishonest, in a way it hadn’t when he’d thought she might have been involved.

‘Polly?’

She looked up.

‘Why have you stayed at Shelton Castle? I know you love the house and that you grew up on the estate, but haven’t you ever imagined something different for yourself?’

She looked up into his face, her eyes meeting and holding his.

That had to be the key to finding a way of ensuring Polly didn’t suffer unduly. She had told him this was the first thing she’d ever done ‘entirely for herself’ and it was clear she was relishing everything about her Arabian adventure. She seemed to crave excitement. Yet she’d stayed with what she’d known from childhood. There had to be more to that decision than he knew—and if he knew why he would be in a far better position to offer her an alternative.

‘What would you do if you had a completely free choice of what to do with your life?’ he prompted.

‘They’re two very different questions.’

‘And?’

‘Why have I stayed?’ she repeated slowly.

He nodded.

She hesitated, her eyes holding real sadness. ‘I told you I initially came back because my mother was struggling to adjust to life as the Duchess of Missenden, didn’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘That…was true, but it was all a bit more complicated than that.’ Her fingers splayed out on the table between them.

Rashid waited, by no means sure she would tell him anything.

She looked up. ‘It concerns Anthony, so I need you to promise you won’t tell anyone.’

She was lovely. The Duke of Missenden deserved no such loyalty and yet he had it.

‘If any of this ended up in the British tabloids it would be horrendous.’

‘I would never betray your confidence.’

‘No. Sorry. It’s just I never talk about the family.’

‘The family’ as opposed to ‘my family’. It was a distinction he was beginning to understand. Nick had been right in his assessment of Polly’s role at Shelton.

‘But it’s hardly fair to ask you questions about yours and then refuse to tell you anything about mine. So…’ She took a deep breath. ‘In order to minimise death duties Richard had already passed ownership of the castle to Anthony by the time he married my mother.

‘That’s not unusual,’ she said in response to his raised eyebrow. ‘It really is the only way to make it possible for the great houses to be passed intact from one generation to the next. Crazy, isn’t it? You’d think they could work out a better system but, anyway, that’s what Richard did. It usually works well.’

But… Rashid waited for the ‘but’.

Polly twisted one of her small stud earrings. ‘Unfortunately for Shelton, Anthony is a gambler.’

She knew. Relief surged through him.

‘Richard said he didn’t know, but I think he must have. On some level, anyway. Everyone on the estate knew. But I think we thought Anthony wouldn’t touch Shelton.’

‘And he did?’

Polly nodded. ‘Oh, yes, it’s an addiction. As soon as Richard transferred ownership he borrowed huge sums against the house. Sold a number of small things he thought no one would notice.’ She tried to smile, but it faltered almost immediately. ‘My mother did, of course.’

Her blue eyes looked almost grey. Polly was miles away, thinking about a time that clearly gave her pain. Rashid could all too easily picture how difficult it must have been for the new Duchess to challenge her husband’s heir on missing treasures.

‘And there was nothing your stepfather could do?’

‘He’d transferred ownership. Shelton was Anthony’s. But, at the time, Richard and my mother were still living at the castle—’ She broke off, drawing in a painful breath. ‘Do you want to know all this? Really?’

‘I want to know why you have stayed at Shelton.’ If it hadn’t been so important for him to know Rashid didn’t think he could have forced her to continue.

She shrugged. ‘Oh, well, this is the “why”. I’d come home for the summer after I finished at uni. I had some vague plan about doing a PhD but, to be honest, I’d had enough studying for a bit and Richard asked me to help.’

Her face changed, softened, as kinder memories ran through her head.

‘He was the loveliest man. Real old school. He believed he was the custodian of Shelton for future generations and his one aim had been to hand the castle on to his heir intact.’

‘Only for the heir to start dismantling it.’

‘Right. It began with some of the minor paintings Richard had put into storage. Pieces of china. A few clocks. They all went to pay the interest on the loans.’

‘And your stepfather knew this?’

‘By the time I came home he did. Anthony was quite scared, I think. Everything had snowballed so quickly and he agreed to let his father take on the day-to-day running of the castle again.’

The day-to-day running, which, having read that final report, he now knew was Polly’s responsibility.

‘We divided the jobs between us. My mother continued as housekeeper. Richard concentrated on the financial side of things. And I tried to drum up new money-making enterprises to make a start on repairing the roof.’

‘Successfully?’

‘To an extent. Shelton is a money pit. But it was interesting work and it seemed worth doing.’ She looked to him as though she were searching for his approval. ‘It was only meant to be a very temporary thing.’

Polly brushed a hand across her face. ‘Richard was sure Anthony would seek help…’

And, of course, that hadn’t happened.

‘But, gambling is an addiction and the problem had been there a long time. Richard and my mother moved out of the castle into a house on the estate and that helped maintain the peace. Anthony and Georgina took up residence in the main house.’

‘And you?’

‘Moved back down to the staff quarters. Much nicer.’ She took a breath before continuing, ‘But then there was the accident.’

Rashid saw the pulse beat in her neck and her hands move convulsively against her glass. He asked gently, ‘Is that how your mother came to be in a wheelchair?’

She swallowed hard, her voice husky. ‘Three years ago in May they were coming back from a party. Richard was driving and he had a stroke. Their car hit a ditch and they somersaulted. My mother broke her back but Richard never knew. He had a second stroke within twenty-four hours and died.’

She brushed a hand across her eyes. ‘Damn, I’m sorry. I hate thinking of it.’

‘So you stayed.’

‘Of course. While I was waiting for her to come home I installed ramps in the ground floor of the house, lowered work surfaces, fitted a bathroom in part of the garage and made a bedroom out of the other part.’

Rashid didn’t really need to hear the rest of her story. He could piece it together himself.