‘It’s…er…very unusual,’ Elinor remarked.
‘Murad commissioned it and it won several design awards. I think it looks more like a hotel than a home and my father detests it, but this will be our home when we are in Muscar. I still believe that the old palace outside the city could have been successfully renovated.’
A throng of people were waiting outside the imposing front entrance. Jasim explained that the crowd was composed of the household staff and he took charge of Sami to make it easier for Elinor to get out of the limo. Perspiration beaded her short upper lip at the same moment that she left the coolness of the car. The heat from the sun beat down on her. Within seconds she felt hot and uncomfortable. She was also starting to feel rather overwhelmed by the level of interest and attention and exceedingly nervous about meeting Jasim’s father, King Akil. All the women hung over Sami with intense interest and admiration while Jasim translated the appreciative comments. It crossed her mind that Murad would have been less gracious and patient with such humble employees.
It was wonderful to step into the air-conditioned cool and shade of the palace. It was built on a very grand scale: the vast main hallway, walled and floored in pale gleaming marble, would have passed muster at an airport. She lingered below the refreshing blast of the air-conditioning until her silk dress no longer felt as though it was sticking to her skin and she had rediscovered her energy.
Jasim rested questioning dark eyes on her. ‘Are you feeling all right?’
‘It’s incredibly hot out there,’ she muttered apologetically, wishing she could retrieve the foolish words almost as soon as she spoke them, for what else could it be but very hot in a desert kingdom in mid-summer?
‘It will take time for you to get used to the higher temperatures. Do you want to take a break before you make my father’s acquaintance?’ Jasim queried.
‘No, let’s just go ahead now.’ Elinor swallowed back the additional words ‘and get it over with,’ which would have been less than tactful. But she really wasn’t looking forward to the coming meeting. She was the pregnant foreign wife Jasim had married behind his father’s back, a wife who had then disappeared for well over a year. She could hardly expect King Akil to look on a humble nanny with that history as a worthy match for his only surviving son.
They trekked a long way through the building. Footsteps and voices echoed to create a noisy backwash of sound. Eventually they reached a set of double doors presided over by armed guards. The doors were thrown wide, an announcement made by a hovering manservant, and finally they were ushered into the royal presence.
Elinor was shocked by her first view of Jasim’s father, who was resting on an old-fashioned chaise longue that seemed ludicrously out of place against the extreme modernity of his surroundings. White-haired, clad in traditional robes and as thin as a rail, King Akil was much older than she had expected and he looked very frail. Formality ruled as greetings were quietly exchanged and then Jasim broke the ice by carrying Sami over for his grandfather’s examination. An immediate smile chased the gravity from the older man’s drawn face.
‘He is a fine handsome boy with bright eyes,’ the King commented approvingly to Elinor in heavily accented English. ‘You named him after my greatgrandfather as well. You have excellent taste.’
Elinor went pink with pleasure at that unexpected compliment. She had picked her son’s name from the potted history of Quaram on the royal website. Sami’s much-revered ancestor had been a renowned scholar and diplomatist credited with uniting his country’s warring tribes. She didn’t bother to admit that she had also chosen that particular name because it sounded conveniently like an English one—Sam—that she thought suited her child.
With an imperious dip of his head, the King switched back to his own language and engaged his son in dialogue. As the older man spoke at length and with much solemnity, Jasim seemed to become a good deal tenser and his responses sounded a little terse. Indeed Elinor could not help but notice the rise of dark blood to Jasim’s cheekbones and the revealing clenching of his lean brown hands and guessed that it was a challenge for him to retain his temper. Momentarily, the discussion or possibly what could have been an unusually polite dispute halted while a servant was summoned to escort Elinor and Sami from the room.
Full of fierce curiosity though she was, Elinor was nonetheless relieved to escape the uptight atmosphere. Even so, having noticed the extreme formality that reigned between father and a son, she was wondering why the relationship between the King and Jasim was so strained. An instant later, she was furious with herself for being so obtuse. Jasim had married her without his father’s permission and her behaviour as a runaway wife could hardly have added gloss to her reputation. Most probably she was the root cause of the trouble between the two men!
A strikingly attractive young woman in an elegant black and white designer dress was walking towards her. A diamond brooch that Elinor thought was rather flashy for daytime wear glittered at her neckline. She paused to admire Sami.
‘Your son is adorable. I am Laila, Jasim’s cousin, and I have been asked to help you settle in,’ the brunette announced, pearly white teeth glinting between raspberry glossed lips as she smiled. She had a wonderful head of thick black silky hair that curved round her heart-shaped face and fell down to her shoulders. Almond-shaped, slightly tilted brown eyes gave her an exotic quality and the heavy lids lent her face a voluptuous aspect that Elinor thought men would find highly attractive.
‘Thank you. This is a rather new environment for me.’
Laila led her down a corridor. ‘I imagine it is and you must be dreading making so many adjustments.’
Elinor tensed. ‘No, I’m not quite that intimidated,’ she parried.
‘Life in the royal family can be very constrained,’ Laila continued with an expressive roll of her eyes. ‘When I’m in London I can do whatever I like, but it’s different here. The King runs a very tight ship.’
Reluctant to get involved in that sort of conversation with a stranger, Elinor murmured instead, ‘Murad’s death must have hit your family very hard.’
‘Jasim already enjoys more popular support than his older brother. Murad’s extravagance offended many and his reputation was poor. You and the little boy are definitely the jewel in Jasim’s future crown,’ Laila quipped. ‘A son at first go and when you were only just married—congratulations! We’re all impressed to death.’
‘I didn’t appreciate how much Sami would mean to Jasim’s family.’
‘And our entire country. I believe history is about to be made on your behalf,’ Laila remarked. ‘I hear Sami is to be shown off to the television cameras and you are to be interviewed. Such media access to the royal family is unprecedented.’
Elinor, suddenly feeling much more daunted by her role as Jasim’s wife than she was prepared to admit to her companion, said nothing.
‘This is the royal nursery. An entire household has been designed around Sami,’ Laila explained, crossing the threshold of a large room crammed with toys and baby equipment. Half a dozen servants streamed through other linked doorways to dip their heads very low while at the same time striving to get a first look at the child in Elinor’s arms. ‘I won’t try to introduce you because few of the staff speak English. Let them look after him while I show you where you will be living.’
Elinor swallowed hard at the challenge of having to hand over care of her son.
‘Sami will be spoiled rotten by everyone,’ Laila told her with a hint of impatience as Elinor lingered in the doorway. ‘Next to your husband he’s the most important person in the palace.’
‘Aren?
??t you forgetting the King?’ Elinor commented.