Desert Fantasies(59)

‘I thought you may have come to discredit Amrah. Discredit me. To find something that would hold me silent. Perhaps. I wasn’t sure.’

The fact he’d not been sure didn’t feel like much of a concession. Pain ripped through her. She’d been such a fool. A gullible, stupid fool.

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Because you love Shelton.’ Rashid straightened his shoulders. ‘And I’m going to take it.’

Shelton. This part was harder to understand. ‘But surely…if Anthony has done something criminal…’ Surely he’d go to prison? There had to be systems in place to protect against that kind of thing.

‘I have offered him the option of repaying what he has stolen from me as I’d prefer it wasn’t generally known my own agent, my own men, took bribes to cheat me.’

‘He has no money. The more valuable paintings were sold months ago to private collectors. We only have copies. There’s nothing—’

‘He has Shelton.’

And then she understood.

It was like a dam bursting. For so long she’d lived in expectation that she wouldn’t be able to keep the castle safe. She’d imagined this moment. The moment when she heard that everything Richard had strived for had been lost. But she had never imagined the words coming from the man she loved.

Tears welled up and fell down her cheeks unheeded. She scarcely knew they were there. All she felt was pain. Intense, cruel pain.

Rashid had never felt anything for her. He’d made her believe he cared, that he genuinely liked her. He’d made her feel special. He’d kissed her as though he wanted her with a passion that matched her own.

All lies.

‘Polly, if there were another way I—’

‘You’d let Anthony keep the castle?’ She didn’t believe that for one moment. Rashid was an implacable enemy and this touched his honour. She understood that.

‘No. I can’t do that.’ He pulled a hand across the back of his neck. ‘But I don’t want this to hurt you or your mother. I will see the dowager duchess is—’

Polly stopped him. She didn’t want Rashid feeling sorry for them, for her. If the only thing she could take away from Amrah was the tattered remains of her pride, so be it. ‘I think you’ve got enough to be thinking about at the moment. I will see we’re all right.’

‘Polly!’

She stood up. ‘It was all a lie, wasn’t it?’ she asked huskily. ‘You. Me. Today.’ Her voice broke on that last word. Their fabulous time in the desert. The sense of home.

‘No, I—’

‘Don’t! Please don’t.’ She didn’t want to hear the lies. No more. She didn’t want him saying how much he’d enjoyed her company or any other spurious platitudes. The fact was he didn’t love her. Nothing else really mattered but that.

She made an ineffectual swipe at her face. ‘If I’m flying back to England tonight I’d better gather my things together.’

‘Pol—’

‘No!’ Polly stood up, holding him off with her hand. ‘No more. You will do what you need to do. I will take care of what I have to.’

Somehow, and she wasn’t sure how, she managed to find her way out of the room. Karim looked up as she walked past but she kept on going, her back straight.

‘Miss Anderson, allow me,’ Karim said, coming to stand beside her and pushing the button that called the lift.

‘Thank you.’

‘I have already arranged for a helicopter to take you and your colleagues to the airport.’

‘Shukran.’ Thank you. Perhaps the last time she’d ever use those words because she couldn’t ever imagine coming back to Amrah. Minty would find a replacement when the time came.

‘Afwan. I will escort you myself. Shall we say within the hour?’

Polly nodded just as the lift doors closed.

‘Polly, you need to sit down. Pace yourself.’ The dowager duchess sat with a box of cutlery on her lap. ‘The auction isn’t for a couple of months yet.’

‘I want this done.’ Done and finished.

‘Darling, Richard would have understood. None of this is of your making.’

Polly brushed a grubby hand across the side of her cheek. She knew that. It wasn’t that that was eating away at her. The eight weeks since she’d left Amrah had passed so slowly and they’d been filled with difficult decisions.

The paintings they’d had copied quietly disappeared. The ‘Rembrandt’she took home, and had it propped up against her bedroom wall. Staff had been given their notice and had already begun to leave. Sotheby’s auctioneers were coming next week to begin their valuations and it wanted only Anthony’s word before the castle was officially on the market. Though he obviously had no intention of being in the country when he gave it.

Polly climbed the steps and held up two copper jelly moulds. ‘I suppose these might be worth something.’ She heard footsteps. ‘Henry, have you—?’

‘His Highness Prince Rashid bin Khalid bin Abdullah Al Baha, Your Grace.’

Polly looked round, almost falling from the steps she was standing on. She stood looking foolishly at Rashid, so handsome in a soft caramel linen suit.

Her mother turned her wheelchair around. ‘I have heard a great deal about you. Since I’m sure you are aware my stepson left the castle weeks ago, I imagine you’ve come here to speak to my daughter. Henry,’ she said, lifting up the cutlery box, ‘put that on the table and then take me for a cup of tea in the housekeeper’s room.’

Polly managed an inarticulate sound.

Her mother merely smiled and looked up at Rashid and Shelton’s elderly butler. ‘I am ready for a break. Polly is exhausting.’

‘Have you come here to see Anthony? I’m afraid he isn’t here. He—’

‘No, I’ve come here to see you.’

She stepped down and placed the copper moulds down on the central kitchen table, then wiped her dusty hands down the sides of her jeans. ‘We were going to open these old kitchens to the public some time next year. I’m not sure how much all this will realise, but something—’

‘Polly—’

‘Anthony had already gone by the time I got home.’ She pulled the plastic clip from her hair and let it fall down around her shoulders. If she had to see Rashid again she wished she’d been dressed for it. Some sharp business suit. Make-up on. ‘I’m doing what I can to raise your money but it takes time. I’ve spoken to Karim about it and he—’

‘Yes, I know.’ Rashid stepped forward and took hold of her hands. ‘Polly, I have something to say—’

She gave a half-hiccup, half-cry and pulled her hands away. ‘I don’t like listening to the things you have to say.’ Then, ‘I’m sorry.’ Polly turned back to face him. ‘I do know none of this is your fault. It’s Anthony’s. I know. I—’

‘But you are facing the consequences.’

‘I’m mopping up the mess.’ She took a shaky breath and attempted to change the subject. ‘Prince Hanif was named as your grandfather’s successor. You must be pleased.’

‘Yes.’

Rashid’s eyes didn’t leave her face and Polly felt a compulsion to keep talking. ‘And everyone seems to have accepted that. In fact, Minty was saying—’

‘Polly, I have brought something to show you.’ Rashid handed over an envelope.

She looked up at him. ‘Wh—?’

‘Please read it.’

A muscle pulsed in Rashid’s cheek. He was nervous. Uncertain of her reaction. And it mattered to him. Polly looked down at the stiff envelope and carefully drew out the official-looking document inside.

He’d bought Shelton. But more than that. Much more.

Tears burnt the back of Polly’s throat. So much so she found it difficult to get the words out. ‘You’ve given it away? I don’t—’

‘I’m setting up a charitable trust to ensure Shelton’s long-term future. I can stop this if you think it’s wrong,’ he said quickly. ‘It will take time to finalise but this way Anthony and all future Dukes of Missenden will retain the right to live in an apartment at the castle. I know it’s not the same…’

It was better than the same. Shelton would be safe. Its management would be in the hands of people who cared about it and who had the skills to protect it. But…it made no sense.

Rashid intended to allow Anthony the use of an apartment within his ancestral home without cost. The future Dukes of Missenden, too. For as long as the line continued unbroken. He was pouring a staggering amount of money into the trust fund to begin the most pressing conservation work.

Why? She knew how much Beaufort Stud Farm would realise and it wasn’t enough to compensate him for this.

‘Why would you do this for Anthony?’

‘I want to do this for you,’ he said quietly.

‘But the money you spent on Golden Mile. You’ll never—’

‘The money was never important.’ Rashid’s hands found their way to his jacket pockets. ‘What mattered was that Anthony should not be allowed to profit.’

‘He does from this. He can still live at the castle. He—’