Unknown Royal Baby

Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A VRIL HURRIED TO put on her make-up. She’d been distracted, playing with Maryam.

At six months, her little girl was such fun, babbling happily and blowing bubbles. She could roll over now, reaching for her toys, and sit up with only a little assistance.

Isam, an adoring father, insisted she was gifted. Avril was just happy Maryam was thriving. Seeing her with her father confirmed Avril was doing the right thing.

So why did the fact the wedding was mere weeks away create a chill deep inside?

Avril ignored the sensation, telling herself it was nerves before another royal event. They still made her edgy. She knew Isam took a risk, marrying her, an outsider who had little to recommend her as Queen. As a result she worked hard to learn everything necessary to take her place at his side.

The last two months had been a roller coaster. Intimacy with Isam was even better than before, and there were times when she felt the connection strong between them. She often accompanied him to official events and it was getting less fraught each time.

She muddled through with his help and that of Hana Bishara. It transpired that Hana was a retired language teacher and she’d become Avril’s tutor and friend. Through her Avril now knew a number of women, regularly meeting them for coffee afternoons. Gradually the sense of isolation began to ease and she knew that in time, if she worked at it, she could make a niche for herself here.

Avril put down her mascara and pressed a hand to her churning stomach, turning from the mirror.

Did she want to make a niche here?

In theory, yes. For Maryam. And for herself, since she would marry the man she loved. The man whose ardent passion turned their nights together into bliss.

Yet disquiet stirred. Despite her best efforts it was getting worse, not better.

On the threshold of the bedroom she paused and made herself focus on the beauty before her.

Isam had moved them into a different suite, one that had been his grandparents’. It was grand, as everything in the palace was, but something more too.

The walls of the bedroom were hand-painted to create a romantic bower. The wall behind the bed was a trellis of lush roses, so realistic it felt as if she could reach out and pluck one. The other walls depicted a beautiful spring garden and the rolling green hills of England.

His grandfather had presented it to his wife as a wedding gift, afraid his new bride might pine for her homeland. Isam thought Avril would like it too.

She did, enormously. But she couldn’t prevent a poignant ache, wondering how it would feel to be so loved by a husband that he’d create such a romantic place for her.

Avril frowned, guilt stirring.

Isam was doing everything he could to make her feel at home. Teaching her to drive, his patience and encouragement making it easier than she’d thought.

There’d been private outings, just the pair of them, to places he thought she’d enjoy. An idyllic private beach where they’d swum and made love. A superb lunch high in a modern glass tower with a bird’s eye view of the city, where he’d pointed out new developments and traditional parts of the city he loved so much.

One evening he’d taken her outside the capital for a supper picnic. Away from the city lights they’d gazed at the brilliant stars and he’d begun teaching her their names. They’d go hot-air ballooning after the wedding too.

Isam was thoughtful and kind, and his passion excited her. But there was something missing.

Unlike his grandfather who’d had these beautiful rooms decorated for his bride, Isam didn’t love her.

Avril told herself it didn’t matter. This was the best solution to their situation.

You want more than a solution. You want love.

The one thing she’d always craved.

She shook her head, discarding her robe and putting on the clothes laid out for her. The beautiful green dress and shoes had been custom made. Yet she barely registered their luxury. She was too busy telling herself, as she did daily, that she was doing the right thing.

She’d promised to marry and she would, for Maryam. And because she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Isam.

‘Ms Rodgers, it’s very kind of you to single me out again. There are so many who’d like to talk with you.’

Avril met the elegant brunette’s eyes, reading pleasure there as well as tension. She felt sorry for Hessa, Hafiz’s daughter, guessing how difficult public appearances must be. Word had got out that Hessa had been suggested as a royal bride but rejected by Isam. How many in the crowd also knew her father had plotted against his sheikh?

Even at this celebration to open Zahdar’s new national library, Avril had seen the nudges and whispers.

She moved closer. ‘Not at all. It’s nice talking with someone of a similar age.’

‘His Majesty doesn’t mind?’ Hessa looked past Avril as if expecting Isam to stride through the throng and separate them.

‘Of course not.’ On the contrary, he’d thanked her for talking to Hessa at a previous event, when others had treated her like a pariah. Avril suspected he felt sorry for her, tainted by Hafiz’s behaviour.

‘But my father—’

‘You’re not your father.’ As far as Avril could see, the man had left his daughter to face public curiosity alone. He hadn’t attended any public or royal events since the engagement announcement.

‘You’re very understanding. I’m so glad the trouble he stirred this week hasn’t affected you after all. It would have been a shame.’

‘This week?’ Avril hadn’t heard anything about him lately. Isam had told her things were under control with Hafiz.

‘Yes, that incident in the marketplace and...’ She shook her head, eyes shadowed. ‘I apologise for his behaviour. It saddens me that he used you in that way.’

Avril was about to find out more but thought better of it. This wasn’t the time or place. Besides, a tickle of awareness down her spine told her they weren’t alone.

It was the sensation she got whenever Isam came close. Her body recognised and responded to his nearness even when she hadn’t seen him.

Excitement stirred as it always did. She wanted his company. But there was something else too. A despairing ache that swamped everything else.

Despair because their months living together had confirmed what she’d feared. The love she’d recognised so recently was as potent as ever. It showed no sign of diminishing. Her emotions grew deeper as time passed. She was in his thrall, totally responsive and eager for him.

But to Isam she represented duty.

She doubted that would ever change. He was considerate and tender, passionate too, so passionate her toes curled thinking about it. And his love for Maryam...

Her heart clenched. He was capable of love, just not for her.

‘Your Majesty.’

Hessa sank into a curtsey. As ever, Avril admired her grace. She was elegant, arresting, and knew so much about the country and its politics.

She’d make a much better sheikha than you.

A deep voice spoke. ‘Hessa, it’s good to see you.’

Isam reached out to take his wife’s hand and felt the tiniest flinch. He watched her shoulders rise, a sure sign of tension.

Concern speared him. For the past few weeks, despite his best efforts, something had gone wrong between them. But what? Whenever he tried to broach the matter she changed the subject, telling him everything was fine.

Fine. Such a bland word. He didn’t want to settle for fine.

Initially she’d seemed to enjoy being with him as much as he wanted to be with her. He’d thought they bonded over Maryam. They’d even shared the once familiar camaraderie that had characterised their working relationship. As if they understood each other, almost without words.

She’d never physically withdrawn from him before. On the contrary, her passion for him seemed endless. Even, of late, almost desperate. Now her composure seemed brittle.

He sensed her fragility.

Hessa spoke, drawing his attention. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty. May I congratulate you on the new library? It’s a stunning building and a wonderful resource, particularly for researchers.’

‘I’m glad you think so.’ He and his father had sponsored the project together and he was proud of it. He explained to Avril, ‘Hessa is a historian and this building will house prized ancient texts and records as well as being a library for the general public.’

Avril immediately began asking the other woman about her work and the documents she consulted in her research.

Pride filled him. That Avril should make such an effort to put Hessa at ease when so many avoided her now. That showed a generosity of spirit that he admired. But it wasn’t just Hessa. Avril happily engaged with everyone from VIPs to market vendors, treating them all with courtesy and interest.

Yet concern overshadowed his pride. Something was wrong and he didn’t know what. It worried him, seeing her so on edge. Was Avril overwhelmed by her royal responsibilities? Or by the unfamiliarity of her new country?

Gently he squeezed her hand, signalling his support. But she didn’t respond.

Anxiety stirred in his belly. Whatever problems they’d faced, she’d never been indifferent to him.

‘It’s time for the official opening.’ His voice roughened. ‘If you’d like to come and help me cut the ribbon, Avril.’

‘Of course. This will be a first for me.’

Her lips curved into a wide smile. But it didn’t reach her eyes. Her gaze was curiously blank and fear feathered his nape.

He needed to get to the bottom of this. Today.

Two hours later he followed Avril into their sitting room. Despite his worries, his gaze lingered appreciatively as she crossed the room, hips swaying because of her high heels. Her dress, fitted around the upper body and skimming her hips and thighs, was modest, except he couldn’t help visualising her body beneath the gleaming silk.

His blood heated. Months living together had done nothing to assuage his need for her.

He struggled to focus on something other than his primal hunger for her. Calling on years of practice, Isam turned to assessing today’s event. Avril had been a huge success and not just with the attendees.

Zahdar’s fashion designers loved her, vying for the chance to dress her. It helped that she was gorgeous. But she also went out of her way to support local makers. That green silk had been manufactured by a new enterprise reinvigorating the old art of silk production. Even the pattern of the fabric was an advertisement for Zahdari design. The delicate white lilies grew in the mountains and were a symbol of his people.

‘Isam. You’re staring.’ She brushed her hands down her skirt, inadvertently drawing attention to the swell of her hips and the line of her thighs. ‘Is there something wrong with the dress?’

He shook his head and followed her further into the room, arousal stirring. But this wasn’t the time for sex. He turned to pour them cool drinks.

‘On the contrary. I was thinking it perfectly balances support for local industry with chic style. I applaud you on your choice.’

She was stunning, beautiful and utterly sexy.

He opened his mouth to tell her then paused. So often she brushed aside his compliments on her appearance as if not believing him. On the other hand she was anxious about measuring up to her new role and liked feeling competent. That gave her confidence.

He held out a glass to her, trying to stifle disappointment when she took it without even a brush of fingers against his.

‘Today was a resounding success, and you played a big part in that,’ he said when they were both seated. Again Avril distanced herself, choosing a chair instead of the sofa they’d shared so often.

Another pang of disquiet arrowed through him.

‘Thanks for your efforts with the head librarian and the mayor.’ He smiled, remembering the way both men had responded to her attentive questions. ‘I’d feared that, given their past differences, we’d have some awkward moments, bringing them together. But it worked out well with your help.’

Instead of looking pleased, Avril nodded and frowned down at her drink. Each day she seemed to withdraw further from him. Despite their physical intimacy, something had changed. Something that made her eyes sad when she didn’t think he was looking.

He couldn’t bear it. ‘Avril—’

‘Isam, I—’

‘You first,’ he said.

His expression was unreadable and Avril was worried. Despite his encouraging words she knew Isam had something weighty on his mind.

Was it the trouble she’d caused? Hessa hadn’t given details but it was clear there’d been problems Hafiz had used as ammunition in his campaign against Isam.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She leaned forward. ‘I had to find out from Hessa of all people that I’d done wrong.’

Isam frowned as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. How much had he withheld? ‘I don’t know—’

‘Don’t, Isam. I know Hafiz used something I did recently, some things I did, trying to discredit me and, through me, you.’ She looked at the glass grasped tightly in her hands and put it down before she spilled anything. ‘You treat me like a child, not trusting me with the truth.’

‘Hardly like a child!’

Heat blazed in his eyes, a combination of sexual awareness and indignation, as if he wasn’t used to being called on his behaviour. Of course he wasn’t. He’d been raised royal, trained to expect deference and obedience.

It was a side of him she didn’t see often. But those occasional glimpses of innate arrogance, however tempered, were an important reminder of who he was. Sheikh first and foremost. Not her soulmate, however much she wished it.

‘You withhold important information. How can I learn if I don’t know when I’ve done things wrong? How can I feel confident I’m doing the right thing in public?’

The royal aspect of this new world was daunting. Yet she’d happily face that if she felt she and Isam were truly partners. Increasingly, however, she realised that was a pipe dream.

‘There was nothing important—’

‘You’re still denying it. Why can’t you be straight with me?’

Isam shook his head. ‘I am straight with you. Despite what you heard from Hessa, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was just Hafiz trying to twist things.’

Isam sighed, scraping his hand across his scalp. In his dark suit, tie undone and hanging loose around his open collar, he reminded her of the vital, fascinating businessman she’d met in London.

Her heart squeezed as she wished, not for the first time, that he were just that, an ordinary man. For there was a chance an ordinary man might fall in love. But royals in Zahdar were immunised against that, taught from the cradle to expect loveless marriages.

Isam had so much love to give. She’d seen how deep his feelings ran for his sister and father, and she saw every day how much he loved Maryam.

But romantic love? He’d inferred romantic love wasn’t for him. and Avril feared he was right. Even after everything they’d been through he was busy protecting her. He didn’t see her as an equal, just a responsibility.

The enormity of what she faced overwhelmed her. She’d thought she had enough love for the pair of them. That she could make do with what he offered her.

Was she fooling herself?

‘The main thing to know is that Hafiz wasn’t successful.’ Isam paused, as if making sure she digested that. ‘He saw a video of you dancing at the community centre last week and spoke out about it in an interview.’

Avril frowned. She’d been at the centre with Hana and some of her friends, attending a women’s afternoon. It hadn’t been an official royal function and she’d enjoyed relaxing with the welcoming group.

‘I wasn’t very good at it but they were all eager for me to try.’ There’d been laughter and encouragement and her participation had broken the ice. ‘I did stumble a lot, not a good look in someone about to be Queen.’

Hessa would know the dance and probably perform it flawlessly.

‘It wasn’t about your competence.’ Isam’s mouth compressed. ‘It was because the dance is one traditionally performed by young women before marriage. By virgins.’

Avril’s eyes widened. She wasn’t married yet and everybody knew she wasn’t a virgin. ‘But I was invited to dance with them.’

He nodded. ‘Exactly. You did nothing wrong. Hafiz was trying to turn it into an insult. To say that the dance is only for sexually inexperienced women rather than simply for those about to marry. His statement reflected badly on him rather than you. As soon as he spoke out, pretending to be affronted, he was howled down.’

She digested that, forcing down distaste. ‘And the incident in the market?’

Isam’s pinched mouth and set jaw signalled discomfort. Or was that anger? ‘He heard about your visit to the sweet shop and tried to turn it into something it wasn’t.’

She thought over her visit to the vast covered market and the couple of minutes she’d spent in a delightful stall. The owner had invited her behind the counter so she could see how some of the delicacies were made and she’d left, smiling, with a box of tasty treats.

‘I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything except taste some food. Shouldn’t I have accepted the sweets?’

‘As I said, you didn’t do anything. It was just about you standing close to the stallholder.’

‘But it was a tiny space.’ Her eyes rounded. ‘And we were in full view the whole time, apart from the counter between us and the rest of the market.’ Her words tailed off as she read his expression. ‘You’re not serious! He thought the man hit on me?’

Isam looked uncomfortable. ‘No, the opposite.’

Avril opened her mouth then closed it, words failing her. Eventually she managed, ‘He accused me of what? Trying to seduce the guy?’

She shot to her feet and stalked across the room, arms wrapped around her middle.

‘I told you it was nonsense. It’s not about anything you’ve done or could do better.’

‘No,’ she croaked from a tight throat. ‘It’s about what I am. A scarlet woman, is that it? Because I had your baby.’

She turned to see Isam on his feet, concern pleating his forehead. He strode across to her, reaching for her hands but she whipped them behind her. She didn’t want him to soothe her. She wanted, needed to know.

Isam froze as if she’d slapped him and instantly she regretted her action. But at the same time, she’d grown too used to being lulled by his reassurances.

‘Tell me. Please , Isam.’

He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, the action somehow making his straight shoulders seem even more powerful.

‘You’re right. Hafiz has tried to run that story. Since his attempts to disrupt my work haven’t succeeded, he tried to blacken your character. But,’ he continued when she would have protested, ‘he hasn’t succeeded. In fact his outlandish claims have rebounded. He’s made himself a laughing stock and will soon lose what little support he thought he had. Everyone can see that you’re not the sort of woman he claims. In fact, you’re becoming very popular and admired.’

That might be true, yet Avril felt sick, nausea churning her stomach and her skin prickling hot then cold.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because of exactly what’s happening now. I wanted to avoid upsetting you. It was so patently untrue. No one believed his insinuations. Besides, Hafiz is about to abandon his political aspirations. You don’t need to worry about him any more, Avril. I’ve seen to that.’

Avril frowned. That was good news but it didn’t change the fact Isam had hidden the truth from her. ‘I deserved to know!’

His steady gaze held hers. ‘I apologise if you feel I’ve let you down. I didn’t want to worry you. I put you in this position and I’m responsible.’

Her voice climbed an octave. ‘Stop saying you’re responsible for me. I’m responsible for myself!’

If he said it was his duty to protect her she might just scream. It was unreasonable but she’d come to hate that word.

Because she wanted to be so much more to him than a duty, someone he needed to protect.

Hurt as she was, it also pained her that the loathsome Hafiz used her to get at Isam.

‘I know you’re trying to do the right thing, Isam, but you’re not helping. You’re making this harder for me. I’m trying desperately to fit in but you won’t trust me with the truth about things that concern me. You don’t treat me as a real partner.’

His horrified look spoke volumes. ‘You must know I trust you, Avril.’

Slowly she exhaled a shuddery breath. ‘I do.’

Of course he trusted her. He was spending so much time helping her learn to act like a royal. That was his focus, securing his daughter by moulding Avril into a suitable queen.

Then she stunned herself as well as him by blurting out, ‘But that’s not enough.’

When they’d entered the room she’d felt a burst of exaltation, imagining he found her attractive in her new dress. But he’d just been thinking how her appearance would please his subjects, because she supported local industry.

He praised her often, but always about her ability to learn or her performance in public. All he cared about was her future public role. Her ability to undertake royal duties.

Isam said something but she didn’t hear over the tumult in her blood.

Avril felt a ripping sensation inside, white-hot pain streaking through her then turning into a heavy anguished throb. As if some vital part of her had torn in two.

She stared into his stubbornly set features and confused eyes, and knew they could never go back to the way things had been.

This might have started with dismay at him keeping things from her. But now, suddenly, all the doubts and fears she’d battled for months coalesced, filling her with regret and resolution. And a terrible, terrible sadness.

Because finally she faced what she’d avoided ever since he’d proposed marriage.

‘I can’t do this any more, Isam. Coming here, living with you like this, was the biggest mistake of my life.’ She sucked in air on a half-sob half-sigh, misery overflowing. ‘I’ve tried so hard to convince myself, tried to believe we’d be happy and everything would work out for the best. But I can’t marry you and be your queen. I just can’t .’

Avril had spent so long pushing down her feelings, pretending it would be all right, that duty and a great sex life would be enough. And their shared love for Maryam.

Her eyes glazed so that when Isam towered over her, his hands grasping her arms, she couldn’t read his expression clearly. She blinked but her vision didn’t clear.

‘Tell me, Avril. Tell me everything.’

To her amazement, instead of anger, she thought she heard the deep resonance of concern in his voice.

That’s what you want to hear. When will you stop fooling yourself?

His hold was supportive. That only made the pain well higher and faster, filling her till she didn’t know what to do with it.

‘Please, sweetheart. Talk to me.’

Something cracked inside her chest. When he used that endearment he almost undid her. It took her back to those intimate hours in his arms when they reached heaven together. When for a short time she’d believed the illusion that they were two halves of a single whole.

But it was an illusion. There was no romance, no love. There never would be. He used the endearment occasionally because he knew she liked it. That was all.

She told herself she was weak and selfish. She should put her daughter’s needs above her own. But it did no good. Avril had reached the end. She couldn’t go on.

‘Please, Isam. I can’t...’ She swallowed, emotion thickening her throat. ‘I can’t do this now. I need to be alone.’

It was all she could do to stand there, blinking back the hot tears prickling her eyes, refusing to let them fall.

He said something she couldn’t make out over her thundering pulse. When she didn’t reply he finally let her go and stepped back.

It was a measure of her distress that his withdrawal made her want to cry out. Because despite her words, she wanted to be in his arms, wanted him to reassure her it would all be okay, though that was impossible.

She swung away from him, arms clutching tight around her middle, trying to hold herself together.

When he silently left the room, desolation engulfed her.