Kamal nodded, and seated himself beside his half-brother. He felt stiff, unnatural, as if it were another man peering through his eyes.
The earl toyed with his goblet of wine, wondering how Giovanna and Khar El-Din had produced such a magnificent son. He understood the young man’s pain, but knew, for the moment at least, there was nothing he could do about it. There was a sudden silence around the low table, and he looked up toward the arched doorway. His jaw dropped. Arabella, garb
ed in shimmering yellow harem trousers and jacket, her sunlit hair down her back, smiled a small, quite wicked smile, her eyes upon Kamal.
She walked gracefully forward, her eyes never leaving his face. Slowly she sank to her knees before him and touched her lips to his boot. Her hair cascaded about her, touching the thick carpet.
Kamal flinched as if struck. “Get up,” he yelled.
Arabella raised her head and searched his face. She cocked her head to one side in question, the gentle woman’s smile never leaving her lips. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “If that is your wish.” She turned to smile at Hamil. “Is not a mere woman to show her loyalty and respect to her master?”
“Indeed,” Hamil laughed, “but not, I vow, in front of your father. You may kiss my brother’s boots in private, my lady.”
“I’ve a mind to see you dressed like that, Rayna,” Adam said. “But first I must see to having my boots polished.”
The earl watched his daughter study Kamal’s set face. There was such longing in her that he winced. He knew deep within him that, like him, she would love but once. Perhaps, he thought, she could convince Kamal that his mother’s shame did not touch him.
“You are silent, Kamal,” Arabella said.
He ignored her for the moment, nodding toward the slave boys to serve the dinner. “There is much on my mind.”
“I’m sorry about your mother, Kamal. Perhaps we will visit her in the future, if it is your wish.”
“No,” he said. “It is not my wish.”
Arabella frowned at his profile. Not once had he even looked at her since she had seated herself beside him. She wondered if she had embarrassed him with her clothes and her dramatic gesture. He seemed angry, remote, and she did not understand. The spiced lamb tasted like ashes in her mouth. She looked toward her father. “How did mother sprain her ankle, sir?”
“How else?” the earl said, smiling. “On her sailboat, of course. She tripped on the dock. Still, I nearly had to tie her down to keep her from coming with me.”
Adam laughed, and lightly squeezed Rayna’s hand. “So that is what I have to look forward to? Tying you down to keep you safe and sound? I fear, Father, that my little dove has finally shown herself to be a hawk.”
Lella said to Hamil, “Do you wish me to leave, my love, so I will not be influenced to rebellion?”
“I will simply keep your belly filled with child and your mind filled with me.”
Kamal flinched. God, how he wished for the dinner to end. He felt like a wounded animal and wanted only to skulk away and tend his pain in private. He felt himself go pale when Hamil raised his wine goblet and said, “Although my esteemed brother has returned his throne to me, I vow that he will not suffer. He has gained a woman who, if he treats her as a man must a willful wife, will bring him great happiness. Keep her on her knees, my brother, but I warn you to keep your mistresses a secret from her, else she’ll bring you low.”
Kamal uncoiled his powerful body and rose. He looked toward the earl. “Lady Arabella will leave on the morrow with her father. She will return to the life to which she was raised.”
He heard Arabella’s cry, but did not turn toward her. He strode from the chamber.
“My dear,” Lella said, grasping Arabella’s wrist. “You must give him time.”
“No.”
“Arabella,” the earl said, “leave it be.”
She turned pained eyes to her father. “You knew, did you not? You knew that he no longer wanted me.”
She rose clumsily and rushed from the chamber, heedless of the babble of voices behind her. She paused in the palace garden and breathed in the clean evening air. He was being noble, damn him, she thought. She leaned over the wall and saw Kamal striding away from the palace, down the winding road to the fort.
The fragile leather slippers were not made for running, but Arabella ignored the sharp rocks and dashed after him. The soldiers made no move to stop her. “Kamal.”
She saw him pause as if struck. He turned slowly. “Go back, Arabella. I have no wish to see you again.”
“Then talk to me, you coward. Do not run from me.”
“Very well,” he said, and waited for her to reach him. She was before him, her silken hair over her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch her, but he stood stiffly, saying nothing.