Laura Martin - Governess To The Sheikh

The Sheikh ran a hand through his hair and for a moment he looked beaten, but Rachel couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him. He’d brought the whole episode on himself.

‘Could we have a word, Your Highness?’ Rachel asked excessively politely.

‘I need to be getting back.’

‘This can’t wait. Boys, why don’t you go and get cleaned up for lunch.’

As Aahil and Hakim scurried away Rachel saw the Sheikh turn as if he was about to leave, too. She caught him by the arm and proceeded to pull him into a little alcove that was sunk into the courtyard wall.

He was so surprised to be touched in this way that for a moment he followed her without any protest. Rachel saw the instant he rallied, but did not care if he was angry at being manhandled. She was angry at how he’d handled the situation.

‘That was poorly done,’ she hissed.

The Sheikh recoiled from her slightly and she wondered for a second when the last time he had been criticised to his face was.

‘Ameera needs discipline.’

‘She needs to see acting out will not get a reaction from us.’

‘She needs to learn she cannot be so rude.’

‘She’s testing the boundaries, seeing what she can get away with.’

‘And you would let her get away with that sort of behaviour?’

They were both talking in muted voices, but the anger was apparent in both sides. The Sheikh drew himself up to his full height and Rachel suddenly wished she hadn’t brought him into such a small, enclosed space. His body was only inches from hers, his face so close she could reach out and touch his cheek without stretching.

Rachel felt a tingle of anticipation run through her body. She was angry with him, there was no denying it, but there was something else lurking inside her, too. She saw the passion flashing in his eyes as he spoke about his children, passion that matched her own, and she felt drawn to him. Even though they were arguing she wanted to reach out and pull him closer, to feel his body up against hers.

She rallied, trying to push all inappropriate thoughts from her mind and focus on the real issue.

‘Ameera is craving attention,’ Rachel said, forcing herself to speak calmly. ‘She needs to realise that acting out will not get her attention, but behaving well will.’

The Sheikh looked as though he was going to say something more, but as he digested Rachel’s words he fell silent.

‘So you were just going to ignore her rude comments?’

Rachel nodded. ‘And praise her when she did something well.’

‘And eventually she will stop being rude.’

The Sheikh sank back against the wall. For a moment he looked just like a man, just like an ordinary father struggling with a difficult child.

Rachel watched as different emotions flitted over his face: sadness, helplessness and finally acceptance. She had another overwhelming urge to reach out to him, this time to comfort him, but just as she was raising her hand she stopped. He might look like an ordinary man right now, but she had to remember he was royalty. He was the ruler of a kingdom and so far above her in social status she probably shouldn’t even think about speaking to him directly.

As she let her hand fall back to her side the Sheikh surprised her by catching her fingers in his own. For a moment Rachel thought there was a slight longing in his expression, but after a second it was gone and the façade he presented to the world was back. Quickly he released her hand and stepped out of the alcove.

‘I’m sorry for interfering,’ he said. ‘In the future I’ll leave such decisions on discipline up to you.’

Rachel felt him slipping further away and knew if she were not careful he might feel like it were best if he disengage from his children completely. Thinking quickly she spoke.

‘This afternoon I was planning on taking over the kitchen for a few hours with the children. I know they would love for you to join us for a little while if you have the chance.’

Rachel saw him hesitate and then to her surprise he nodded without any further persuasion.

‘I’ll see if I can manage to join you for a short while in between the land disputes this afternoon.’

As he walked away Rachel sagged back against the wall. She had invited him to join them for the sake of his children, but she could not deny the flutter of excitement she’d felt when he’d agreed.

Chapter Four

Malik held up a hand for silence and immediately the raised voices fell quiet. He was developing a headache and he felt like they’d been cooped up in the mediation room all afternoon. As Sheikh it was his job to rule on all land disputes and intertribal quarrels in Huria. The kingdom was not huge, but the people were largely nomadic and had differing views of possession and ownership, which made disputes such as these very difficult.

The head of the Banjeree people opened his mouth to speak again, but Malik silenced him with a stern look. He’d heard enough. It was the age-old argument that the land belonged to nature and therefore the tribe should be allowed to wander anywhere to pitch their sturdy tents and take what they needed from the roaming livestock.

‘Talid,’ Malik said, addressing the head of the Banjeree people, ‘you are right that this land of ours is a gift from nature. We need to nurture it and give back exactly what we take, otherwise we will be left with nothing.’

He turned to the other supplicant, a successful farmer who didn’t like having his goats eaten by the Banjeree people, quite understandably.

‘I also agree with your opinion, Yusuf,’ Malik said in a conciliatory tone. ‘You work hard to build a successful business and feel it is unfair when your land is used and your livestock taken.’

‘They are not his livestock,’ Talid said.

Malik frowned at him and the nomad fell silent.

‘This is what will happen. Yusuf, you will allow the Banjeree to pitch their tents on your land, but only in places you are not currently using to grow crops or rear livestock. Talid, you will not allow your people to take anything from Yusuf’s land. There is plenty of countryside and wildlife that belongs only to the population of Huria as a whole, there is no need to destroy this man’s hard-built business.’

Both men looked as if they were about to argue, but Malik dismissed them before anything further could be said. It had been a long afternoon.

When the two men had left Malik stretched out on his adorned chair and glanced out of the window. He could hear giggles of pleasure coming from the kitchen where Miss Talbot had taken his children for an afternoon out of the classroom. He remembered her invitation and for a second he was tempted to go and join them, but something made him hesitate.

She was a little minx, his children’s new governess. She was clever and quick with her words and far too attractive to make Malik feel comfortable. When she had pulled him into the alcove earlier to discuss Ameera and how they would deal with her she had been spitting fire. He liked how protective of his children she had become in two weeks and, although he had been annoyed, too, he had been able to admire the self-confident way she had dealt with him. Many people could not even look him in the eye when they spoke, but Miss Talbot always fixed him with a look that told him he would listen or there would be hell to pay.

She’d been right about Ameera, too—he had blundered in and made things worse, given her bad behaviour attention when it just needed to be ignored. Malik wasn’t used to admitting he was wrong, he hardly ever had to do it, but he could see Miss Talbot’s methods would work with Ameera, at least better than any of the previous tutors’ had.

He almost stood, almost strode from the room and went to join his children in the kitchen for whatever lesson their governess had in store, but something made him hesitate. Of course he didn’t approve of her taking them out of the classroom all the time, but he did have to admit Hakim was becoming a little more confident and Aahil a little less serious under her care. The problem wasn’t with the location of the lesson, or the content, but with Miss Talbot herself.