“I wish you could crawl inside my body and experience all of my emotions for yourself!” she whispered and pressed herself against Sabri. When she felt how big and hard he became, her eyes grew wide. So that’s why Malika had talked about a column! She forgot everything around her, felt only the two of them, their bodies filled with warmth and passion. She lifted her pelvis toward Sabri expectantly. But to her surprise, he pulled away from her a little.
“Emily, we shouldn’t do anything we might regret.”
“What do you mean, regret? Malika has told me that it’s very beautiful.”
She looked confused and hurt and that hurt him. He so wanted to make love to her, enter her body, melt into her soul. But, in the house of the qaid of Mogador, there was a young girl, his bride. He had never seen her, but it had been decided long ago that she would become his wife. That is what both sets of parents had determined when the little girl was born and he was a boy of twelve.
“We first have to be married to do what we both would like to do,” he said to assuage Emily.
“Then let us get married!” She looked at him, her eyes large and full of anticipation like those of a child receiving a present.
But Sabri stayed silent, afraid to speak the truth and hurt this woman he loved.
She sat up and hugged her knees. “You want to marry me but cannot because your parents have already chosen a bride for you, is that it?”
“You know about that?” He was flabbergasted.
She nodded. “Thomas told me when he noticed that I liked you. He warned me to forget my feelings for you.”
Sabri pulled Emily into his arms, rested his chin on her head, and caressed her curls. “I love you, Emily, and it is my greatest wish to spend my life with you. But it will not be easy. Your reputation and that of my bride are at stake. Her family will be insulted if I break the engagement and my parents will be shamed. We will have to pay a high price for our happiness. Are you willing to do that?”
She lifted her head and looked at him defiantly. “Your religion permits polygamy.”
“You mean you would—” He was utterly taken by surprise.
“Of course, I insist on being your chief wife!”
“No, Emily, no,” countered Sabri once he had recovered from the shock. “I love you and only you. I want to share my future with you.”
“Emily? Where are you?” They heard Sibylla’s voice approaching.
Emily felt as though she were being torn out of a beautiful dream. She reluctantly freed herself from Sabri’s arms. “I have to go. Wait a little bit until I’ve distracted my mother. Then you can sneak away.” She stood up and shook the hay out of her skirt.
“Wait!” Sabri held her back. “I want you to know one thing: I will find a solution.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. “We will find a solution.”
Chapter Thirty
When Sibylla stepped into the stable, Emily was standing in the milking area with a bowl full of fresh goat’s milk in each hand. “Hello, Mother. Have you come to help me carry these?”
“Well, I’ve really come to discuss something with you.” Sibylla took two more bowls and followed her daughter into the courtyard. Emily’s hips swayed provocatively from right to left in front of her and her long curls bobbed up and down.
My little girl has become a woman. A beautiful, desirable woman, thought Sibylla, half in awe, half in shock. Then she spotted the straw. “How did you get that in your hair?” She placed the milk bowls in the cooling basin, plucked a piece of straw out of Emily’s hair, and held it up.
“My goodness, Mother, you get dirty whenever you work in a stable!” Emily took the piece and threw it on the ground. “What did you want to speak to me about?”
Sibylla frowned. “You have to pack. We’re riding back to Mogador in the morning.”
“Excuse me?” Emily indignantly placed her hands on her hips. “Father is not even well yet!”
“And that’s why I have promised your father that I would take care of something for him in Mogador.”
“How nice,” Emily countered stubbornly. “I’m staying here.”
“It’s really not necessary to be a burden to your father and Aynur any longer. They have enough on their hands in the aftermath of this terrible assault.”
Emily glowered at her mother.
At that moment, Sabri peeked around the stable door. Seeing Emily and her mother, he was about to retreat when someone shouted, “Hakim bin Abdul!” André Jr. was leaning out of one of the living-quarter windows and gesticulating wildly.
Sabri froze. Emily bit her lips. Sibylla turned around, and her eyes grew wide.
“You must come! Hakim Hopkins needs to speak with you!” André Jr. continued to shout.
Sabri squared his shoulders, nodded to Sibylla, and walked toward the house in as dignified a fashion as he could.
“I’m beginning to see why you insist on staying here,” Sibylla observed. “Yet another reason for you to ride home with me as soon as possible.”
Emily was angry. “The only reason you want to leave is because you cannot bear that Aynur is Father’s wife. You must have done something to make him choose her over you!” Shocked by her own words, Emily stopped abruptly. She had often had disputes with her mother, but had never been insolent before.
Sibylla was thunderstruck. For the first time in her life, she had the desire to spank Emily. Why did her daughter have to provoke her so? Thomas and John were not nearly so headstrong. She took a deep breath and struggled to regain her composure. She looked at her daughter, who was standing before her with a contrite look. What would Lalla Jasira have done in this situation? Would she have forgiven Emily for her outburst? Sibylla swallowed hard. “I treated you like a child, Emily. That was wrong.” She swallowed. “Do you forgive me?”
“Won’t you please forgive me?” Emily rushed into her arms with tears in her eyes.
Sibylla stroked her daughter’s back. “The main reason I want you to accompany me is that this estate is not a safe place as long as those criminals are still about.”
Emily snuggled up to her. “If that is so, Mother, then we will ride back to Mogador tomorrow.”
There was a cool wind blowing down from the Atlas when Frédéric warily opened the gates the following morning. Christian led the horses out of the stable. They flared their nostrils and sidled about in an enterprising way. Emily looked up at the crystal-clear blue sky, which made the snow-covered peaks of the high mountains look close enough to touch, and blinked away a few tears. Parting with her other family after this remarkable year was difficult.
“When will you come back?” whined André Jr., who did not want to leave Emily’s side.
“Soon.” She stroked his hair. “I’ll return to help you with the next saffron harvest.”
Aynur had stayed in the house. Thomas had ordered absolute bed rest for her. Malika, who did not wish to leave her mother’s side, was also absent. Emily fingered the soft leather of the jacket Malika had given her as a farewell present. It was colorfully embroidered and lined with lambskin, and would keep her warm during the long ride. “So that you won’t forget me, Sister,” she had said.
“Promise you’ll come and visit me in Mogador soon,” Emily had replied.
“For your wedding with the hakim at the latest. You remember what I read in your palm: if you two stay strong . . .” She had embraced Emily one more time and returned to her mother’s room.
“May I help you into the saddle?” Frédéric stood next to Emily’s horse. He leaned forward and held out his intertwined fingers. She stepped on them with her left foot, placed her hands on the saddle, and before she knew it, he had lifted her up.
“You’re strong!” She sat upright.
He grinned mischievously and helped her put her boots into the stirrups. “Too bad you’re my sister. I would like to have had someone like you for a bride.”
André waved him over. “Frédéric, will you please fetch the saffron from the tower?”
He ran off and returned a short while later with four firmly closed linen sacks that he placed gingerly on the ground next to the pack mule. Two wooden boxes, padded with a woolen blanket to prevent pressure sores, had been attached with leather straps on both sides of the animal’s back. Frédéric loaded the sacks in the boxes. When he was finished, André closed the tops and checked that the straps were secure.
“Thank you again for protecting my saffron. If I weren’t still so dizzy, I would ride myself.”
“I’ll take your red gold safely to Mogador. After all, we have the protection of the qaid’s soldiers.” She looked over at the six armed riders who had already mounted their horses and were waiting by the gate.
Leaning heavily on his cane. André went over to the captain. “I place in your hands not only the lives of these two women, Captain, but also the yield of an entire year of hard work,” he said solemnly.
“The women and the saffron will be as safe with me as at their mothers’ bosoms,” the man assured him and patted the butt of his rifle. “Are we ready to leave?”