The Governess and the Sheikh (8 page)

Cassie struggled to assemble her thoughts, which seemed to have scattered like dandelion clocks in the breeze. She tugged her skirts over her bare toes, trying to put from her mind the romantic picture they made, the two of them, sitting under the stars by the tinkling fountain, she and the desert prince.

Not the desert prince. Linah's father. Her employer. Who wanted to know about his daughter. That was all. That was absolutely all. ‘Linah. Linah is—she and I are—I think we're making progress.'

She started to tell him, haltingly, of her trials and tribulations, of the breakthroughs and the setbacks, the small triumphs and the still-regular defeats. Tempting as it was to exaggerate her success, she knew better than to lie, remembering quite clearly Jamil's detestation of prevarication. ‘She is learning to trust me a little, but it is early days yet. Linah is still testing the limits of her powers.'

‘You mean she is still ungovernable.'

His voice contained not anger, but resignation. He thought she was failing. He had expected her to fail!
Cassie clenched her fists determinedly. ‘Not at all, but Linah is a very clever little girl. All her experience has taught her that such strategies as she employs—'

‘Such as?'

‘Well, her temper tantrums. And her refusal to cooperate. And her hiding behind those maidservants of hers. And the practical jokes, of course.'

‘Practical jokes?'

‘Your daughter has an affinity with wildlife.'

‘You will explain, if you please?'

‘Mice, snakes and a whole host of other creatures I'm afraid I don't even recognise. Linah seems to be able to tame them, or mesmerise them in some way, it's really quite amazing. Then she puts them where they should not be—you know, divans, chests, cupboards. She put a toad in the tea samovar. Really, one has to give her credit for being inventive.'

‘And cruel.'

‘She's not cruel—or rather, she is but doesn't realise it, and once she realised that I was not alarmed—'

‘Not alarmed?'

‘Truly, Jamil, it didn't bother me at all. I was brought up in the English countryside where wildlife abounds. My sisters, you see, were wont to do much the same sort of thing to Celia and me when they were being naughty. I explained to Linah that she was frightening the poor creatures more than me, and she stopped.'

‘Explained?' Jamil said ominously. ‘You should have punished her for her actions. By failing to demonstrate your authority, you are showing weakness. She will exploit that, one way or another, if not now, then later.'

‘She is not my enemy, Jamil. It was punishment
enough for her to know that she had caused distress without realising it,' Cassie explained patiently. ‘And as I said, she hasn't done it since.'

‘Can you be certain these unorthodox methods of yours will work?'

‘Not entirely, not yet.' Cassie looked up from the intricate pattern she'd been weaving with her fingers in her lap. ‘She is only eight, Jamil.'

‘Old enough to understand right from wrong. Old enough to exert some control over her temper.'

‘You expect too much. At her age, I am willing to bet you had a considerable temper.'

‘By her age, I had already learned how to control it.'
Or to suffer the consequences.

‘At eight!' Cassie exclaimed. ‘I don't believe it. Why, you must be at least twenty-eight now, and I have seen you lose your temper several times.'

She was smiling, meaning only to tease, but Jamil's lips thinned. It was true, Cassie seemed to bring out extremes in him that he had not thought himself capable of, but it was not anything of which he was proud. ‘It may surprise you to know that I rarely lose my temper,' he said curtly. ‘In fact, the
only
time I have lost it has been in your company. And that is not a compliment.'

‘I didn't take it as such. Why are you so touchy? All I meant to say was that, as a little boy, you probably had just as many tantrums as Linah, only you don't remember.'

‘You are quite mistaken,' Jamil said with an air of finality.

She opened her mouth to contradict him, saw the implacable look on his face, and something darker
in his eyes, which gave her pause. He had not been a happy child, that much was obvious. She decided, wisely for once, to change the subject. ‘I've been thinking, it would be a good thing for Linah to have more company her own age. She's lonely, she doesn't seem to have any friends. Children need the stimulation of others.'

‘That is why she has you.'

‘It's not the same. Surely you are not so old that you cannot remember what it was like to play with your friends?'

‘I did not have any friends,' Jamil said starkly.

Cassie's mouth dropped open. ‘What? Don't be silly, you must have. At school, and—'

‘I did not go to school. It is the tradition with princes of the royal blood in Daar-el-Abbah to be kept in isolation so that others may not witness their early mistakes, their growing pains. That is why our motto is
Invincible
.'

‘That must be hard to live up to.'

‘A prince is the ultimate role model for his people; his behaviour must be beyond reproach.'

‘But you are human, for goodness' sake, you're not flawless. No one is. I would have thought your people would see a few signs of mortality as a good thing.'

‘You know nothing of the matter. That is not our way.'

Cassie stared at his bleak profile in astonishment. He had not be exaggerating, then, when he said he had no friends as a child. The isolation he mentioned, it was the literal truth. Aghast at the very idea of such an upbringing, she also felt an immense pity for the lonely little
boy Jamil must have been. No wonder he had no idea about how to treat his own daughter. ‘Is that what you wish for Linah,' she asked, trying desperately to keep the emotion she felt from welling up into her voice, ‘to be raised in isolation, to be chastised when she shows any signs of normal, everyday emotion—what you call weakness?'

Jamil stared off into the distance, giving no sign that he had heard her. ‘Jamil? Is that what you want?' Cassie demanded, in her anxiety to get through to him, once again forgetting all about restraint. ‘Do you want your daughter to become just like you—cold-hearted and apparently incapable of showing affection even for her own children? Well? It's not right and it's not fair, Jamil. She may be a princess, but she's also a little girl.'

At some point in her last speech, Cassie had grabbed Jamil's sleeve in an effort to make him listen. At some point in her speech, it had worked. He was no longer staring off into the distance, but right at her, and he did not look happy. She tilted her chin defiantly.

Jamil carefully detached her hand from his arm. ‘Once again,' he said stiffly, ‘you overstep the mark. You talk about things which you have no understanding of.
None!
'

She flinched at the vicious tone in his voice, but refused to give ground. ‘Linah—'

‘Linah will not endure what I did. I will not inflict such a regime on her, but—and you will listen most carefully here, Lady Cassandra, for I do not wish to have to repeat myself again—she is of the royal blood, and though as a woman she is not required to be seen as invincible, her behaviour must be superior to all others.
She must learn to take control of her emotions. Do you understand me?'

‘Yes, but she will learn how to do so much more easily if the discipline is inflicted by her peers. Little girls can be quite ruthless, you know, far more so than boys. If Linah misbehaves among her friends, she will be ostracised. She will learn quickly enough that she cannot do as she pleases.' Seeing that Jamil was struck by this, Cassie pushed home her advantage. ‘As a princess, she must learn not just discipline, but kindness. Surely you agree she will be a better princess for having some understanding of her subjects?'

‘I don't know. It is not the custom.'

‘You keep saying that, but traditions are only traditions for as long as they are maintained. You are the prince; if you wish to change something, you can do so. Set your own traditions.'

Jamil's expressions softened into one of his near smiles. ‘My Council—'

‘You said yourself, your Council need to be brought into the nineteenth century,' Cassie pointed out quickly. ‘Or at least,' she amended conscientiously, ‘I think that is what you meant.'

Jamil's smile widened. ‘I see now that you are indeed Lord Henry Armstrong's daughter.'

‘I will take that as a compliment,' Cassie replied with one of her irrepressible smiles. ‘A compliment from you is as rare an event as a rainy day in the desert. I shall cherish it. But seriously, will you think about it, Jamil. Please? For Linah's sake? You know it—'

‘What I know, Cassie, is that a wise strategist knows when to retreat as well as when to advance,'
Jamil interrupted. ‘Your point is well made and I will reflect on it, but you should stop now, before you lose the advantage you have gained.'

She did so most reluctantly as she had still not broached the subject of Jamil's contact with his daughter. Proud of her restraint, for it did not come at all naturally to her, Cassie nodded, fastening her lips together primly.

‘I can see that you are making a significant effort on my behalf,' Jamil said, trying very hard not to laugh. Another thing he had forgotten about this beguiling creature was her more endearing qualities. She had the ability to throw him from one extreme to the other, in a way no one else could. Not that he was endeared. Just tired.

He had been away too long. The increasing demands of his kingdom were a sign of successful expansion, yet he did not feel rewarded. Halim had been appalled by the brigand attack just as much as Cassie, but for quite different reasons. Infallibility again. The shedding of blood was evidence of mortality. Halim feared for the prince, but Cassie feared for the man. No one else, it seemed to him, saw him in that way. Cared for him in that way.

‘You have everything you need here?' he asked brusquely, getting to his feet.

‘Yes, thank you. Linah's schoolroom is exceedingly well equipped.'

‘I did not ask about Linah, I asked about you.' Jamil reached out his hand to pull Cassie up beside him. Instead of letting her go, he pulled her to him, the
better to scrutinise her face. ‘You look tired.' His eyes narrowed. ‘Have you been crying?'

‘No, I—it was nothing.'

‘What have you not told me? If you are trying to protect Linah, let me tell you that—'

‘No, Linah is not the cause, not really. I'm just feeling a bit sorry for myself, that's all.'

‘You are unhappy here?'

‘No, not unhappy but—well, being cooped up here all day, it can be a bit stifling,' Cassie replied with an apologetic look.

Jamil frowned. ‘I should have thought about it before. Of course you are used to having a little more freedom. Would you like to ride?'

‘Camels?'

Cassie's expression of dismay was so comical, Jamil could not restrain a bark of laughter. ‘No, horses.'

He had a nice laugh, deep and infectious, extremely masculine. Cassie smiled back. Exercise, she realised, was what she needed to blow away the blue megrims, and maybe it would do Linah good, too. ‘That would be wonderful. Does Linah ride?'

‘It is considered improper for women here, unless they are led.'

‘You are a prince—are not traditions yours to make or break as you wish?'

‘Or as you wish? You tread a fine line, Lady Cassandra.'

The tone in his voice pulled her up sharply. Cassie's face fell. She dropped her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon, Highness. I would not wish to place you in a difficult position. If it would cause too much offence…'

‘As you point out, I am the prince,' Jamil said sardonically. ‘I will arrange it, but it must be tactfully done. You may ride, and Linah, too, but you will need an escort.'

‘I'm perfectly capable of looking after Linah and myself.'

‘I am not talking about your riding skills, Lady Cassandra, I'm talking about your safety. There are those who will be offended by your embracing such freedom. You must promise me never to go out without an escort.'

‘Yes. Very well, but…' Catching Jamil's ominous expression, Cassie caught her words just in time. ‘I promise.'

‘We will begin tomorrow morning. I will accompany you personally.'

‘You! I assumed you meant a guard, or a groom.'

‘When I am satisfied there is no risk. For the moment, I will personally supervise these excursions.'

If she was delighted, it was for Linah's sake. If she was already looking forward to it, that was for her also. Absolutely it was. ‘Thank you,' Cassie said warmly, ‘Linah will be thrilled.'

His proximity was making her blush. His almost palpable maleness accentuated her awareness of her own femininity. She should say goodnight now. Drop a curtsy to release herself from his hold and say goodnight, because if she did not…

‘Goodnight, Lady Cassandra.' Jamil released her and walked off across the courtyard, his feet padding soundlessly on the tiles. The huge door swung inwards.
He was gone, in a flutter of white robes, before Cassie could reply, or even decide if she was relieved or not.

 

The prospect of a riding lesson in the company of her father sent Linah into paroxysms of excitement. She could barely be persuaded to eat, gulping down a mango sherbet and some pineapple, dancing anxiously from foot to foot while Cassie rummaged among her copious wardrobe for something suitable to wear. Terrified lest she be left behind, Linah insisted on watching while Cassie made her own
toilette
, laughing at Linah's fascinated inspection of her stays, stockings and boots.

The riding lesson went well, with Linah cowed into her best behaviour by her father's presence. Her natural affinity with animals allowed her to form an instant bond with the sprightly little pony Jamil had picked out for her. Cassie's own mount was a thoroughbred Arabian dappled grey mare, a flighty, highly strung beast that tried to throw her the minute she sat in the saddle. The mare reared up on her hind legs, and when this failed, spun round in tight circles before attempting to rear up again. Cassie, however, had had enough, and reined her in sharply, leaning over to whisper soothing words into her ear the minute she was under control. Jamil, watching with an open-mouthed Linah, was more impressed than he cared to admit. He had known her to be more than competent, and would not have seated her on the grey had he doubted her ability, but still, the grace with which she held her saddle, the way she gave her mount its head before reining it in, evidenced a horsewoman of rare ability.