The Sheik and the Slave

“Yes, yes Sarah. I’m running late, forgive me,” Katharine said. She wore a beautiful blood-red dress with intricate gold vines along the stomacher and sleeves. The gold wound along the skirt and she wore red square heels to match. She wore delicate ruby earrings and no necklace. Her blonde hair was piled at the nape of her neck.

“Come, let’s away, Katharine,” Sarah said.

Together, they hired a hackney cab and arrived as the party was underway. Katharine had not wanted to leave the townhouse, especially since she feared running into Mohammed. But she chided herself that he would never mix in society and he had seemed just as bewildered as she when they had come upon each other in Hyde Park.

Katharine was pleased to be out and noticed the mix of ladies and gentleman in the room. The ladies were delightfully dressed in an array of colors and the gentleman liked vibrant peacocks. Katharine noticed several people glance their way. Unbeknownst to her, Katharine looked particularly striking, as the red dress contrasted sharply with her blonde hair.

She noticed several women murmuring while they played faro, and there seemed to be a buzz in the air. There were sofas and chairs placed comfortably around one room. In the next room, Katharine saw a variety of foods on the table. It looked delicious. She placed a strawberry in her mouth.

When she returned to the main room, she saw that Sarah had joined a table to play cards and an older lady beckoned to her at a sofa.

“Dearest Katharine,” the older lady spoke to her.

“Lady Dunvale,” she replied. Katharine smiled at the woman who was an acquaintance of her mother’s.

They settled on the sofa as the voices floated around them.

“My dear, you are most exquisite. You should be married,” she said. The older woman patted her brown hair, which was slowly graying, and sighed. “Lord Dunvale has been dead now several years, and I miss him dreadfully.”

“He was a good man,” Katharine agreed.

“And you are young! In the prime of your life!” Dahlia Dunvale reprimanded her.

“You are very kind.”

“My dear, I must introduce you to a newcomer amongst us. All the women are fawning over him, and I daresay there is reason. He is oh so handsome! I’m sure he would like to meet you,” she said. Lady Dunvale moved through the room in her silver and blue dress, making her way to a corner where several sofas sat facing each other. A handful of women were surrounding one man and seemed to be doing exactly as Dahlia said: fawning over him.

As they made their way closer, Katharine felt her heart beat in her ears.

“My dear, allow me to introduce you. Sir, this is Lady Katharine Fairfax. Katharine, this is…”

“Yes, Lady Dunvale, I have already met the charming Lady Fairfax in Hyde Park. Did I not?”

Katharine looked at Mohammed sitting amongst the high-bred ladies of London society and nodded.

“Yes, we did,” she agreed.

“Oh dearest. I must attend to my friend Clarissa. I will return,” Lady Dunvale said. She bustled off, leaving Katharine to take an empty seat on the end of the sofa with another lady.

Mohammed sat next to a red-haired lady on one sofa while three women sat facing him on another sofa.

Katharine racked her brain with an excuse to leave this group when the redhead with breasts almost spilling out of her dress leaned into Mohammed.

“Sir, you were about to tell us of the weather in your land,” she said, smiling at him.

Mohammed locked eyes with Katharine.

“Yes, Madame, I was.” Katharine looked at the three wide-eyed women sitting on the sofa opposite him, who were absolutely enthralled.

“Nothing in London can compare with my land and its unique weather,” he began.

Katharine eyed

him warily and thought he looked dreadfully handsome. She had seen him in long white robes but he was completely at ease in fashionable Western clothing as well.

His frockcoat and waistcoat were oyster-colored, with intricate silver and yellow embroidery along the cuffs and covering the waistcoat. His breeches were oyster-colored and his silk stockings white with black shoes. As usual for him, his hair was clubbed but not powdered.

“The weather is hot, sometimes blisteringly so and sand covers my land,” he spoke.