‘The upstairs I turned into a flat for me and I moved out of the staff quarters. And I tried to take over the things my mother and stepfather had been doing.’
‘Why?’ He knew few women who’d put their life so comprehensibly on hold. Certainly not for the years Polly had. No wonder she craved adventure. Her life was boxed in by a combination of circumstance and misplaced loyalty.
‘Minty says that. She says Shelton is Anthony’s responsibility and that I need to move away.’ Polly tried to smile. ‘And I do. I know I do. Even my mother says I do. But it’s hard to let Shelton go. Mentally I accept I need to, but I can’t quite do it. It feels like I’m admitting failure.’
‘It’s not your failure.’
‘But I know I’d be letting Richard down. I know he’d have wanted me to carry on as long as Anthony lets me. And, if I left, where would I go? My mother needs care. I have a strange CV.’ She took another sip of her drink. ‘I’ve got no references. Unless Anthony can be persuaded to write me one. And, even then, who’d believe it? He’s my stepbrother. I’m not sure anyone would take that seriously.’
Rashid frowned slightly. ‘Does Anthony want you to stay?’
‘Hell, no. He’d like to sell the castle. Only he can’t quite bring himself to do it while I’m there. It’s as though I remind him of his father and make him feel guilty.’
As well he might. Rashid sat back in his chair. Richard had been a man not unlike his friend. From the moment he’d become the Duke of Aylesbury, Nick had spent every thinking, breathing moment planning the future of his crumbling pile of ducal stones. Absolutely determined to secure it for the son he hoped he’d have one day.
‘And the Beaufort Stud?’ he asked, drumming his fingers on the table. It was beginning to sound as though the only person he’d hurt by dismantling Shelton was Polly.
‘It’s owned by the Lovell family, and has been for three generations, but it’s really Georgina’s baby now. She’s Anthony’s wife, the present Duchess of Missenden.’
‘Do you like her?’
‘I don’t know her. She considers me “staff”.’
It was an unholy mess. ‘Perhaps,’ he suggested carefully, ‘it would be better if your stepbrother sold the castle. Then its care could be entrusted to someone who would cherish it.’
‘That won’t happen.’ Polly looked at him. ‘Anthony will make much more money if he sells it off in bits and pieces. And I suspect the castle will be divided up into upmarket apartments, sold off on some kind of long lease. That would probably be enough to salvage his pride.’
Of course, she was right.
Most disturbing from his perspective was that, instead of taking from Anthony Lovell something he valued, he was allowing a weak man to abdicate responsibility for wasting his inheritance.
It needed thinking about.
‘And my second question?’
Polly looked at him, bemused for a moment, then her eyes seemed to smile. He had no idea how they did that. They seemed to light up from within.
‘What would I like to do?’ She leant forward and thought for a moment or two, her elbows resting on the table. ‘I don’t know. I like being here. I like this.’
This. He liked this, too.
Being with her. Talking to her. Even though it wasn’t comfortable listening.
‘In the end I’ll have to go home, though. My mother will always need care.’
‘Do you own the house you live in?’
‘My mother does.’
That was better than it could have been. At least Anthony couldn’t sell it from under them.
‘So you see I don’t have very much time for dreams. I mustn’t waste a moment.’ Polly glanced down at her wristwatch. ‘There are still over four hours before I need to meet the others.’
‘Do you wish to rest?’
‘No.’ She looked slightly hesitant. ‘I was wondering whether we might go and see something of Al-Jalini? Or do you need some time alone? I can easily explore the hotel complex.’
That was the last thing he wanted. Alone he’d have too much time to think. Rashid shook his head. ‘It will be a pleasure to show you something of my country.’
An opportunity to salve his own conscience, too. He was as guilty as anyone of not considering Polly’s wishes. He might have more justification than most, but he’d arbitrarily taken decisions that would affect her profoundly. ‘Where do you wish to go?’
‘I don’t mind. Somewhere that isn’t on the itinerary, perhaps?’ she suggested, her eyes sparkling.
Adventure. She craved adventure. And the real Arabia.
‘I will arrange that,’ he said, standing up. ‘There is somewhere I should like to show you.’ He smiled. ‘Somewhere I think you will like.’
CHAPTER NINE
POLLY let Rashid go. She shouldn’t have asked to leave the hotel. Her smile became rueful as she gathered up the glasses and carried them through to her bedroom. She’d a pretty good understanding now of what forces were at work in Amrah. The timing of their visit was difficult. And she ought to be co-operating with the plans Rashid had already put in place, not making things more complicated.
But maybe it would be good for him, too. The cold, shut-down look he’d worn earlier had vanished while they’d been talking.
Polly walked over to the dressing table, her own brush and comb laid out. Her make-up bag to one side. She turned her head to look at her suitcase resting on a stand.
Everything must have been unpacked. She didn’t even bother to check. It didn’t seem to matter if some faceless someone thought she ought to buy better quality underwear. She had other things to think about. Problems that would all be waiting for her when she got home.
She sat on the edge of the king-size bed and searched her handbag for the small folded piece of paper on which she’d written the international dialling code for the UK and the number of the Al-Ruwi Palace Hotel. Phoning home felt difficult. Her mum refused to talk about what was happening at the castle, saying she preferred to hear all about her daughter’s travels, but Polly knew her too well. She could hear the weariness in her voice, the false brightness.
Today was no exception. Her mother was pleased to hear from her. Keen to tell her that Mrs Ripley, who came each morning and evening to help her get in and out of bed, was wonderful. That she’d been out to dinner with friends, and insisted they could talk about the quotes that had arrived from three local plumbers when Polly got home.
Polly ended the call absolutely certain all was not well. Anthony had become more acerbic of late and it was usually her mother he took his frustrations out on. Without her there to deflect the snide comments Polly imagined she’d be having an unpleasant time of it.
And it made her feel more trapped than ever. How could she ever leave? It wasn’t in her nature to walk away from people who needed her, but coming to Amrah had made her realise she did want more.
The soft tap on her door startled her, but it brought her head up. She was not going to spoil the now. Time with Rashid was precious, because whatever the future did hold for her it certainly did not hold Amrah’s playboy sheikh.
Fixing a smile, she opened the door, but it couldn’t have been very convincing because Rashid immediately asked, ‘Are you feeling well?’
Polly brushed a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m fine. I’ve just rung home.’
‘Are there problems?’
‘My mother assures me everything is “wonderful”, but I don’t believe her.’
‘Polly,’ Rashid said, stepping close. The lines around his mouth were more defined than she had ever seen them. ‘Polly, if there is anything you are worried about, at Shelton, please talk to me.’
She laughed, the sound breaking on a hiccup. She believed Rashid was a man who could move mountains, but the problems at Shelton Castle were beyond his fixing. ‘I think you’ve got enough going on in your life without me pouring out the nonsense in mine.’
Polly turned away to search the drawers for the blue lihaf Bahiyaa had insisted she pack.
‘Polly—’
She found the scarf and pulled it out. ‘I ought to take this. It’s so hot out there.’
Rashid nodded, his expression unutterably weary. His beautiful, strong face. Polly felt a sharp pull on her emotions, an intense compulsion to smooth the worry lines from his forehead, to reach out and cradle his face between her hands and kiss away everything that was bothering him.
He must be under so much pressure from all sides. It put her troubles into perspective. The future of a kingdom was surely more important than that of a house, however beautiful.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ she said.
‘Of course.’
‘Really?’
‘I would like to spend time with you.’
If she hadn’t fallen for him before, she’d have fallen then. Rashid held out his hand and Polly put her own in it, trying to ignore the sense of nervous anticipation.
‘Where are we going?’
‘You will see.’
The curl of excitement in her abdomen spread. ‘Are we walking?’
Rashid smiled down at her, his eyes softening. ‘You will see.’
He wasn’t going to tell her, but it didn’t matter where she was going. She was collecting memories, storing them up against a future that was going to be without him. Rashid led the way back to the glass lifts and, before the doors opened, released her hand, resting his in the small of her back, guiding her in.