Castles of Sand Page 19

  ‘I’m beginning to believe it.’ Alain nodded. ‘Go on.’

  ‘The day—the day you found us at the apartment, I got a message, ostensibly from you. Like you often used to send—arranging that we should meet at the apartment. But when I got there, you weren’t there, Hassan was. He—he said you’d been delayed, that we should have a drink while we waited.’ She hesitated. ‘I can’t prove this, but I think he must have put something in my drink. I remember I felt very hot suddenly, and very dizzy.’ She shivered involuntarily as the memory of what happened next returned to torment her, but Alain’s arms were warm about her, his muscled body a protection against the chills of the past. ‘Hassan—Hassan must have noticed how I was feeling. He probably knew! He—he suggested I should lie down for a while, and I agreed. I suppose you think that was very silly, but I didn’t know what he had in mind.’ She paused. ‘Do you want me to go on?’

  ‘Please.’

  Alain’s request was gentle, and with a trembling sigh she obeyed. ‘Well, I lay on the bed. I—I do remember unloosening the neck of my dress because I was so hot! But the next thing I knew, Hassan had—had taken off his jacket, and his shirt, and was leaning over me, saying all sorts of wild things, like how much he admired me, and how much he wanted me, and that I was the only girl he had ever loved!’ She swallowed convulsively. ‘It was crazy! I knew he couldn’t love me, and I couldn’t believe it was happening. Then—then—’

  ‘—I came,’ Alain finished for her softly. ‘Yes, I came. And we all know what happened after that.’

  Ashley looked up at him anxiously. ‘That’s how it was, I swear to you,’ she breathed, half afraid he would dis-believe her story even now. But Alain only bent his head and silenced her protesting mouth with his, and for a long time there was only the sound of their shaken breathing to disturb the stillness.

  However, at last Alain recovered sufficiently to ask: ‘When did you discover you were pregnant?’

  ‘I already knew,’ she confessed, stroking the curve of his cheek. ‘I was going to tell you that afternoon. I—I was very apprehensive. I didn’t know how you would take it.’

  ‘How I would take it?’ he muttered. ‘You knew I loved you.’

  ‘Yes. But I knew your family wouldn’t—wouldn’t approve of our relationship, and—and they didn’t, did they?’

  ‘I make my own decisions,’ declared Alain roughly. ‘Nothing and no one would have prevented me from marrying you.’

  Ashley nodded. ‘I—I wanted to believe that.’

  ‘God!’ Alain pressed his face into the silken curtain of her hair. ‘If Hassan were still alive—’

  ‘But he’s not,’ Ashley whispered softly. ‘We—we must learn to forgive Hassan.’

  ‘He has deprived us of seven years!’ exclaimed Alain harshly.

  ‘We’ll have many more,’ insisted Ashley huskily. ‘Oh, darling, don’t be bitter. Not now.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ he demanded. ‘If only I had not been so blind, so stubborn, so utterly jealous!’

  Ashley expelled her breath shakily. ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I am going to marry you,’ he said fiercely. ‘And no one will stop me.’

  ‘And—and Hussein?’

  ‘Hussein will be told the truth,’ said Alain simply. ‘Oh, maybe not yet. It may be too much for him to take all at once.’

  ‘He—he’ll resent me.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Alain knew there was no point in minimising the difficulties. ‘But he will get over that. And perhaps when he learns he is in truth my son—’

  ‘He’ll never forgive me,’ Ashley insisted unsteadily.

  ‘He will if I tell him how it was,’ declared Alain gently. ‘Do not worry, darling. Hussein will not blame you. I will see to it.’

  Ashley was still anxious, but perhaps Alain was right. The boy was still young. He might learn to forgive both of them. And they had all the time in the world to make it right.

  ‘How did you know I was leaving?’ she asked suddenly. ‘Did Muhammed tell you?’

  ‘But of course.’ Alain smiled and rolled on to his back, and Ashley pillowed her head on his broad chest. ‘Do you know he is your most faithful ally? I left you in his care when I went away.’

  Ashley bit her lip. ‘Did he also tell you about Tariq?’

  Alain shifted so that he could see her face. ‘My little brother? Oh, yes, he told me.’

  ‘Hussein told you, too, didn’t he?’

  Alain’s eyes were amused. ‘You thought I might believe that Tariq had taken Hassan’s place?’

  Ashley coloured. ‘Were you jealous?’

  Alain’s eyes darkened. ‘A little.’

  ‘You didn’t think—’

  ‘—that you were interested in him? No.’ He pushed his fingers through her silky hair. ‘I was learning to trust you, and not myself.’

  ‘Oh, Alain! I can’t believe this…’

  ‘Can you not?’ He pulled her across him, his hands in the small of her back pressing her close to him. ‘Is this not real enough for you? Do you want further proof?’

  ‘Oh, Alain…’

  Her lips had descended to his to play sensuously with his mouth, when Muhammed’s voice hailed them from outside the tent.

  ‘Prince Alain! Prince Alain!’ he called insistently. ‘Mademoiselle, my master has a visitor.’

  ‘A visitor?’

  Ashley gulped, and with a groan of impatience Alain reached for a rug of skins to draw over them. Then, when Ashley would have pulled away from him, he imprisoned her within the curve of his arm, tucking the rug securely over her breasts.

  ‘Come!’ he called, and then released her to sit upright when his mother walked into the pavilion ahead of Muhammed.

  Princess Hélène was almost unidentifiable in a cloak of soft sable, but her eyes were bright and inquisitive, and remarkably unsurprised to find Ashley with her son. At his mother’s entrance, however, Alain uttered a muffled oath, and with a word of apology to Ashley he slid from the couch, accepting the dark robe Muhammed offered him to wrap around his naked body.

  ‘This is an honour, madame,’ he remarked, with mild asperity, and his mother grimaced at his evident sarcasm.

  ‘An unnecessary one, obviously,’ she said, smiling more kindly at Ashley. ‘Do you know you have had me driving half around the country?’

  Alain drew a deep breath and folded his arms. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ Princess Hélène waved Ashley to remain where she was as the girl shifted with some embarrassment. ‘I was so afraid Ashley would take the plane, and I had so little time to prevent her.’

  ‘To prevent me, madame?’ Ashley wriggled up on the cushions, glancing anxiously across at Alain.

  ‘Yes, chérie,’ declared Princess Hélène firmly. ‘Alain, do you have a drink for a weary traveller? Some coffee, perhaps? Or some tea? Or even a glass of lemon juice to take the taste of sand out of my mouth.’

  ‘But how did you find us, madame?’ exclaimed Ashley, as Alain bade Muhammed bring some coffee, and Princess Hélène seated herself conspiratorially on the end of the couch.

  ‘I knew Alain must be here,’ she explained, ignoring her son’s taut features. ‘These are his father’s people, and he has always been a favourite with them.’

  ‘This is Numara,’ Alain added, by way of an explanation. ‘Where I was going to take you the morning we went riding,’ and Ashley’s limbs melted beneath the fiery possession in his eyes when he looked at her.

  ‘Where you are is not important, chérie,’ Princess Hélène continued half impatiently. ‘What was important was that I should speak to you—to both of you,’ she glanced up at her son again, ‘and remove any doubts from Alain’s mind that Hussein is not his son.’

  Alain’s gaze transferred itself to his mother, and Ashley’s lips parted in sudden apprehension. What was Princess Hélène going to say? After all that had happened, Ashley was so afraid she might spoil things.

  ‘I do not understa
nd, Maman.’ Alain came down on his haunches beside his mother. ‘What can you possibly tell me that I do not know already? I should explain—I have told Ashley that I believe her, that I accept her story. There is no need to labour the point.’

  ‘Oh, but there is.’ Hélène turned back to Ashley. ‘My dear child, I know what you went through yesterday evening.’

  Ashley’s colour darkened, and then receded. ‘You—know!’

  ‘About your interview with my husband? But of course. He thinks he is the only one in the palace with spies, but he is wrong. I, too, have my methods of finding out those things that I wish to know, and when I learned that you had asked for an interview with my husband, I was curious to know why.’

  ‘But who—’

  ‘Nuzab, of course. She was most concerned about you, too. It was she who delivered the news of your departure, as you had asked, and without her assistance I could not have attempted to stop you.’

  ‘To stop me, madame?’

  ‘From leaving,’ explained Hélène, putting out a hand and pressing her son’s taut shoulder. ‘Darling, do not look so severe,’ she exclaimed. ‘Surely if you have told Ashley you believe her, she has told you of the interview she had with Prince Ahmed last evening!’

  ‘No.’ Alain’s mouth was stern. ‘No, she has told me nothing. What is there to tell?’

  ‘Oh, Alain…’ Ashley pushed her fingers into her hair, sensing the depth of his frustration. ‘Darling, it was nothing. Nothing. It doesn’t matter now. Not now we’re together.’

  ‘How can you say so?’ Hélène turned to her son. ‘Alain, your father knew of Hassan’s impotency when he sent him to London!’

  ‘What!’

  ‘It is true.’ Hélène spread her hands. ‘Oh, these things are common knowledge among the women of the household. Need I explain? There were girls—servant girls—who tried to please him, you understand? But it was no use.’

  ‘And my father sent him to London?’

  ‘Alain—’

  Ashley tried to intervene, but Hélène wouldn’t let her. ‘To break up your friendship with Ashley,’ she agreed. ‘Because you were his eldest son, his heir, and a Christian into the bargain.’

  ‘My God!’ Alain rose abruptly to his feet, and Ashley had never seen him look so incensed. ‘I should kill him!’

  ‘What? Kill your own father?’ Hélène rose now, fluttering her hands in sudden anxiety. ‘Alain, Alain, I did not tell you this for you to threaten your father’s life. He is my husband, and for all his faults, I still love him, God forgive me. But it had to be told. Ashley was an innocent pawn in your father’s game.’

  Alain took several minutes to digest what his mother had just told him, and in the meantime Muhammed returned with a tray of coffee. Alain bade him set it down, then turned abruptly to Ashley.

  ‘And you knew all this?’ he demanded. Then, when she nodded, he exclaimed: ‘Why did you not tell me?’

  Ashley sighed. ‘Would you have believed me?’

  Alain’s face assumed a little darkening colour. ‘A fair question,’ he muttered savagely and then, with sudden vehemance, he squatted down beside her again, and ignoring his mother and Muhammed cupped her pale face between his hands.

  ‘I do not know how, but somehow I will make up to you for this,’ he stated harshly. ‘I have been a fool, and an arrogant one, and I do not deserve your love. But believe me when I tell you no one else will ever part us—ever! You have my word on that.’

  Ashley was trembling when he had finished, and she could tell by his eyes that he wanted nothing so much as to gather her into his arms there and then. But he had some regard for his mother’s sensitivities, and after bestowing a lingering kiss on Ashley’s parted lips, he rose to his feet once more.

  ‘I have not thanked you, Maman, for delivering this information,’ he said, his voice clipped and constrained, and his mother sighed.

  ‘Dare I say I am glad it was not necessary?’ she ventured. ‘Alain, when did you begin to suspect the truth?’

  Her son’s shoulders sagged, as he endeavoured to relax. ‘I do not know,’ he said, running a weary hand over his eyes. ‘Two, maybe three years ago, I began to notice certain things about Hussein. But it was not until Muhammed also made the comparison that I realised that perhaps I had been wrong.’

  ‘Oh, chéri!’ His mother caught his hand, raising it to her lips. ‘Chéri, do not be too bitter.’ She glanced round at Ashley. ‘You are young, you will have other children. And you know your father has much affection for his grandchildren, despite the fact that he seldom shows it.’

  Alain shook his head. ‘You know, I used to wonder why my father wanted me to believe that Hussein was Hassan’s son. Now I know. If I had ever suspected the truth, I might have come looking for Ashley. Even believing that she and Hassan had been lovers, he knew I might still have wanted her…’

  Princess Hélène sighed. ‘Let it go. He let you bring Ashley here, did he not?’

  ‘Because he was afraid if he refused, Ashley might make waves,’ retorted Alain tautly. ‘I can see it all now. He was afraid it might all come out again.’

  ‘As it has,’ pointed out his mother dryly. ‘Alain, chéri, your father is an old man, and you are his eldest son! He wanted you to marry someone of his race and creed. Only he forgot—your will is as strong as his.’

  Alain expelled his breath heavily. ‘How did you know you would find Ashley here?’ he asked, trying to relieve the tense atmosphere that had developed, and his mother smiled again.

  ‘I did not—at least, not at first. I went to the airport, and when I found that she had not checked in for the flight to London, I made my own calculation.’

  Alain’s hard mouth softened a little. ‘Well, as you can see, she is safe and sound.’

  ‘Is she?’ Princess Hélène’s brows arched flirtatiously. ‘Well, sound anyway. When will you come back to the palace?’

  Alain sighed. ‘The way I feel right now, I do not think I ever want to see my father again.’

  ‘But you will.’ His mother was anxious.

  ‘Maybe. Some day.’ Alain was noncommittal. ‘After I have spent a couple of years in New York, then perhaps I will be able to face him again with equanimity.’

  ‘New York?’

  ‘New York?’

  Ashley and Hélène spoke simultaneously, but it was to the girl on the couch Alain addressed his reply. ‘If you are willing,’ he said, squatting beside her again. ‘This appointment the government of Murad offered me—it is still open. I think I should take it, do you?’

  Ashley hesitated. ‘And—Hussein?’

  ‘He will come with us, of course.’

  ‘Oh, Alain!’ His mother sounded distressed.

  ‘It is the only way,’ said her son with finality. ‘It will be good for all of us to get away from the cloying influence of the palace. In two years’ time, when we come back, the past will be behind us. And perhaps by then my father will have learned not to interfere in other people’s lives!’

  Ashley touched his cheek. ‘If it’s what you want.’

  ‘It is what I want,’ Alain agreed huskily. ‘Do you not know the only reason I turned down that appointment in New York was because I could not bear to leave you behind?’

  Princess Hélène rose to her feet. ‘I think it is time I left,’ she said, but her eyes were twinkling as she bent to kiss her son’s cheek. ‘Look after him, Ashley,’ she added. ‘I know you will. I knew it the moment I saw you.’

  * * *

  The dinner party was over, and Ashley walked into the large bedroom she shared with Alain, hiding a yawn behind her hand. Her husband had preceded her, leaving her to turn out the lights before joining him, and now she saw him standing on the balcony outside their bedroom windows, looking over the panorama of the East River spread out below them. Although it was late, the river was a mass of lights, the mournful sound of a ship’s siren drifting to her ears.

  It was six months since they had come to
New York, six months since their marriage in Paris, and their subsequent honeymoon on the island of Antigua, and the time seemed to have flown. Ashley had never been so happy, or so content, and even her relationship with Hussein was less one-sided than it used to be. Oh, he had resented her, that son of hers, using every method in the book to dis-credit her in Alain’s eyes. But Alain had learned his lesson well from more sophisticated hands than those of his son, and as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, and it became obvious that nothing could shake his love for Ashley, Hussein was learning to admit defeat gracefully.

  Muhammed had been a great help. He had accompanied them to New York, much to Ashley’s delight and relief, and it was he who was gradually weaning the boy to the idea that it was not half bad having a mother and a father. Hussein had taken the news of his relationship to Alain with great excitement, but so far his reaction to Ashley’s involvement in his creation had been lukewarm. But it would come, she was sure of it. And perhaps, in a few months’ time…

  Flexing her shoulder muscles lazily, she crossed the softly piled carpet and leaned against the open french doors. ‘Darling,’ she murmured, ‘will you unzip me?’ and Alain turned from his contemplation of the city to view his wife with tender loving eyes.

  ‘Better than that, I will undress you, if you would like me to,’ he breathed, his mouth finding her soft shoulder. ‘You were magnificent this evening, do you know that? My father was proud of you, I could tell.’

  Ashley grimaced as the silky sheath fell away, revealing her slender figure in a long virginally white slip. ‘Do you think so?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Do you really think so? Are you sure he wasn’t just being polite because he wants you to forgive him?’

  ‘That, too, of course,’ agreed Alain, with amused cynicism, as her hands sought the cord of his bathrobe. ‘But you handled those delegates from the United Nations as if you had been born to the task, and I could see the old man preening in the light of their admiration for his daughter-in-law.’

  ‘Oh, Alain, I hope so.’ Ashley pressed herself closer, and Alain’s fingers expertly slid aside the straps of her slip.