Читать книгу The Sheikh - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 6

‘S o that’s my news,’ Chloe said, trying hard not to show her excitement too much. ‘I’m off to Morocco next week, and I don’t know when I shall be back…’

‘You are so lucky!’ Justine cried as she stared enviously at her cousin. ‘All I’ve managed to find is a job at the local library—and that’s after years at college.’ She pouted her rouged mouth at Chloe and adopted what she fondly thought of as an artistic pose.

Chloe Randall tried to look suitably sympathetic as Justine bemoaned her lack of success in finding a really exciting job, but her mouth wouldn’t stop smiling.

She had a soft, pretty mouth, which was free of the lip rouge her cousin liked to wear, and her straight, fair, collar-length hair was worn brushed back from her face and held in place by a scarf. Justine’s hair had been cut recently into a style favoured by some of the stars of the silent screen, and was short at the back with longer sides. She was also very daringly wearing red lipstick!

They both looked what they were, young girls of good family emerging from the restrictions of their education and beginning to flex their wings in the sun of freedom like little butterflies. It was 1925, the terrible war that had blighted the lives of the generation before them seemed almost a distant memory, and life appeared made for having fun and enjoying oneself.

‘It was sheer luck,’ Chloe said for perhaps the tenth time that evening, and got up to wind the gramophone once more and play her favourite recording of Paul Robeson one last time. ‘I do love this. It was wonderful actually seeing him on stage when Daddy took me.’

‘Oh, don’t play it again yet,’ Justine begged. ‘I’ve got a new jazz record I want to put on in a minute. Sit down and talk to me. Tell me about what happened—how you came to meet this professor…’

‘As I was saying, it was luck.’ Chloe left the gramophone and sat cross-legged on the floor on a pile of ‘harem cushions’, which were another one of Justine’s fads and popular just at the moment with all the Bright Young Things. ‘I happened to be in the research department of the museum when he came in. He was carrying an umbrella, several parcels and a bag of oranges. The paper was wet because it had been raining hard, and his oranges went all over the floor.’

Justine giggled as she pictured the scene. Although she tried very hard to be sophisticated, she was still an innocent at heart, a little starstruck, which came of going to the cinema as much as she possibly could, and being thoroughly spoiled by her indulgent and wealthy parents.

In that she was luckier than Chloe, who had lost her mother to a painful illness while she was away at school, and whose father always seemed rather a cold man to Justine, though she would never have voiced her thoughts aloud out of loyalty to her cousin.

‘What did you say his name was—the professor?’

‘Hicks—Charles Hicks,’ Chloe said and flicked a stray wisp of hair from her eyes. ‘The thing is, I helped pick up his oranges and naturally we got talking—and it appears that he knew my father from way back. Apparently, he was at my christening but lost touch with Daddy when he went out to Egypt soon after that. Naturally, I invited him to dinner…’

‘And that’s when he asked you if you would like to accompany him on a trip to Morocco.’ Justine stared at her with a mixture of envy and disbelief.

‘To help with some research,’ Chloe agreed, her mouth refusing to stay in a straight line. ‘Just now, he’s working on a book about various nomadic tribes—particularly the Bedouin and Berber peoples. He has already done most of his research on the Bedouins, who inhabit much of northern Africa, and now he wants to do a study of the Berbers—so that he can compare them, apparently. He’s also interested in the religious customs and intends to visit a lot of places considered holy—if he can get permission, that is. It’s all very clever and beyond me, but interesting, don’t you think?’

She laughed as she saw Justine’s blank look. Obviously her cousin didn’t agree, but then Justine’s interests were mostly clothes, dancing, and going to the cinema, as were most young women’s these days.

‘When Daddy told him that I was interested in Arabic literature, he thought I would be the ideal person to help—especially as I took shorthand as one of my skills.’

‘You jumped at the chance, of course.’ Justine sighed. ‘I wish I could find someone to give me a free holiday abroad.’

‘I wish you could come with us,’ Chloe said regretfully. ‘But Professor Hicks is paying all my expenses so I can’t very well ask if my cousin can come too. I doubt if he really needs help with his research at all, but Daddy told him I’d just finished college and was looking for work while I did my own research. He was quite impressed with my ambition—that’s how he put it. Something about admiring a girl who wasn’t prepared to settle for marriage straight away.’

‘Well, I suppose that’s what most of us do—get married and have babies,’ Justine said with some regret. ‘You’re the exception, Chloe. I went to college because my father wanted me to, and you were already there so it was fun. But Mummy expects me to do the season, and I expect I’ll get engaged—if I can find someone who looks like him…’

Justine reached for a copy of the magazine she had discovered at the library that morning. It had a full-page picture of the actor Rudolph Valentino inside and was advertising his latest film.

‘We must see this before you go away,’ Justine said and sighed over the picture of the screen idol. ‘I’ve seen all his films over and over again, but I love The Sheikh the most. They say he’s planning to make a sequel to it soon.’

‘Oh, he’s just wonderful,’ Chloe agreed and crossed her legs. She was wearing a short skirt, which her grandmother, Lady Margaret Hatton, thought was shockingly indecent, and fine silk stockings.

‘Marvellous,’ Justine said and reached for the silver cigarette box on the table beside her, offering it to Chloe, who shook her head. ‘Oh, of course, you don’t. Mummy hates it if I smoke when she’s in the room, but Daddy doesn’t mind. He says there are worse things than a woman smoking, and he smokes too much himself. I take after him; at least, that’s what Mummy always says whenever she’s annoyed with me.’ Her laugh was tinkling and infectious.

Chloe smiled affectionately at her. Justine was bright and pretty, and always saying things she really didn’t mean, because she thought it was clever. It was fashionable to behave in the slightly outrageous way she did amongst her friends, and Chloe knew that her cousin wasn’t really wild at all underneath. She would fall in love, get married and live in a beautiful house in the country somewhere with occasional visits to town, and no doubt be very happy. Her parents spoiled her all the time, which was very nice. Chloe could have done with a little of that spoiling herself, but she knew she wasn’t likely to get it from her father.

He had always been a reserved man, but since her mother’s death he had withdrawn more and more into his own world, leaving Chloe to fend for herself. If it hadn’t been for Justine, of whom she was very fond, Chloe thought that she might have been rather lonely.

Her grandmother rarely left her home in the north of England these days, and her health was not good. She preferred not to have visitors, though she asked to see her granddaughter once a year, and remembered to send her a birthday card.

‘I expect you’ll like being married,’ she said to Justine. ‘When you find the right person.’

‘But don’t you want to marry?’ Justine looked at her curiously.

‘In time, I suppose—but not yet.’

Chloe wanted something more of life than her mother had had being Peter Randall’s wife. She knew that a life similar to that of her own or even Justine’s mother, who had a busy social schedule, would not suit her. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but an independent observer might have seen that she needed affection.

‘Smoking is all right if you like it,’ Chloe said as her cousin selected one from the box. ‘It makes me choke and I don’t enjoy the taste.’

‘Oh, well…the taste is something you get used to.’

Justine wasn’t going to admit that she only did it because her Bohemian friends said it was smart. She had to be a part of the crowd if she wanted to be invited to all the best parties. She looked at the magazine on her lap and sighed again.

‘Do you ever wonder what it would be like to meet a real Sheikh, Chloe? Would he be at all like Valentino, do you think?’

‘Lord, I shouldn’t think so for a moment,’ Chloe replied and giggled. She was giggling as much at her cousin, who was taking a delicate puff of smoke through her elegant cigarette holder, as at the suggestion, but she didn’t let Justine know that. ‘He would probably be fat, greasy and smell absolutely awful.’

‘Oh, don’t,’ Justine begged, tipping back her head in the manner of Gloria Swanson on screen. ‘Please don’t shatter my illusions. I’ll have you know I dream of meeting Valentino…I see him bending down to swoop me up in his arms and carry me off to his tent in the desert.’ She gave a delicious little shiver at the thought.

‘You and a million other women,’ Chloe said and smiled. She too had imagined herself in similar situations to those endured by the slave girl played by the actress Agnes Ayres, but in her heart she knew she wasn’t likely to meet someone who looked and behaved as the film star did on screen. ‘But I agree that it would be romantic to meet Rudolph Valentino… Just imagine if someone asked you to star with him in a film.’

‘Oh, I would die for the chance,’ Justine said and laughed. ‘I still think it would be romantic to be carried off by a Sheikh to his tent beneath the desert stars…’

‘You might not like it when you got there,’ Chloe said. ‘I think it would be better to stick to the film version—much safer.’

She had often thought how exciting it would be to act in a Hollywood film, and her mouth curved as she imagined being asked to play the slave girl in a film similar to The Sheikh. Of course it was just a silly dream, and she had never told anyone, even Justine, of her foolish thoughts.

‘Well, I shall have to be content with my library job until Prince Charming comes to sweep me off my feet,’ Justine said, shrugging her elegant shoulders. ‘At least you have an exciting holiday to look forward to.’

‘It isn’t just a holiday,’ Chloe said. ‘Professor Hicks is a dear, kind man, but I dare say he will expect me to work for my privileges.’

‘It’s a pity he’s so old,’ Justine said. She pulled a face of disappointment. ‘Older than your father. But you never know, you might meet someone exciting on your trip, Chloe. Perhaps he will be dark and handsome and carry you off to his casbah—’

‘I doubt that very much,’ Chloe said, but it didn’t stop her dreaming. In her heart she was as romantic as Justine, though she tried hard not to be. Her father had always told her to keep a clear mind on things and judge the situation before she made any decisions. Chloe knew that it was best not to dream or to expect too much, because that only led to disappointment.

‘Act on impulse and you may live to regret it,’ had been Mr Peter Randall’s maxim all his life. It was a very sensible, safe way to look at things, but could be a little dull, Chloe had discovered. Sometimes she thought it might be exciting to do something mad and totally irresponsible for once in her life.

‘Well, we can all dream,’ Justine said and got up to put on a new dance record she had bought. ‘Come on, Chloe—try this…’

Chloe jumped to her feet, laughing as Justine began to demonstrate one of the latest dance crazes. She was always trying something new, which was perhaps why Chloe found it fun to be with her.

‘Oh, I do wish you could come with us,’ she sighed. ‘But I suppose it’s no good wishing for the moon.’

‘Mummy would never agree anyway,’ Justine said. ‘She is determined to marry me off to someone very rich and very dull.’

Chloe shook her head. ‘Well, the very rich part wouldn’t be so bad, Justine. Poor Daddy has found it difficult to manage since the war. He invested in a company that failed and it reduced his income almost by half. That’s why I was so pleased to get a job almost straight away.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind the money,’ Justine agreed. ‘I can see myself in furs and jewels. Summer on the French Riviera and winter in Biarritz…’

‘Yes,’ Chloe agreed. ‘And if he has lots of it, Justine, perhaps he won’t be so very dull after all.’

It was all so exciting and glamorous, being seen off by her friends on board a luxury cruise ship. On deck the atmosphere was just like a big party, with champagne corks popping, people laughing and streamers flowing. Everyone seemed to have friends who had come to wish them ‘Bon Voyage’, and Chloe was pleased that her father and Justine had insisted on making the journey to Southampton with her.

She had noticed that most of the other guests on board seemed very wealthy, the women dressed in elegant clothes with furs draped over their shoulders, and the men quietly confident though often wearing sober suits. Perhaps that was why she noticed him almost immediately, because he stood out from the others. His suit was a light fawn colour and obviously expensive, and his shoes were handmade leather, his shirt the kind that came from Savile Row.

‘That’s the horn telling us it’s time to go ashore,’ Chloe’s father said and kissed her. ‘Take care of yourself, my dear. Have a good time and be as useful as you can to Charles. Above all, do as he tells you and behave yourself. I want to be proud of my daughter and it was very good of Charles to give you this job.’

‘Yes, of course, Daddy,’ Chloe said and hugged him. ‘Take care of yourself.’ He nodded and released himself firmly from her embrace.

‘I shall just go and say goodbye to Charles.’

‘Yes, you must.’

‘You girls must say your goodbyes quickly,’ Mr Randall warned as he went off, leaving them at the rails together.

‘Oh, damn,’ Justine said. ‘I suppose we shall have to go ashore.’ She pulled a face. ‘I do so wish I was coming with you.’ She kissed Chloe. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t—and don’t run off with a Sheikh!’ She threw out her arms dramatically as she spoke, accidentally striking a man standing just behind her.

‘Be careful, young woman!’

In her exuberance, Justine had knocked the man’s arm, causing him to jerk and spill champagne over his suit. It was the man Chloe had noticed earlier being seen off by a party of friends, all of whom were dressed as elegantly as he was, and one of them a rather beautiful young woman. He was glaring at Justine furiously, and she was clearly embarrassed, which made Chloe jump to her cousin’s defence.

‘It was rather foolish to bring your drink into a crowd like this, don’t you think?’ she said. ‘Justine didn’t mean any harm.’

‘No, of course not,’ Justine said and smiled at him winningly, her cheeks a fiery red. ‘I’m terribly sorry. I hope I haven’t done any real harm?’

‘The suit is probably ruined, but it is of no consequence,’ he said and turned away.

‘What a rude man!’ Chloe said as he moved further down the rail; the crowd was thinning out now as people began to leave. ‘It was his own fault for getting so close to you.’

‘I expected he wanted to wave to his friends on shore,’ Justine said. ‘Oh, lord, I must go or they will take me with you…’

They hugged and Justine ran off to join the last few stragglers going ashore. Chloe laughed as her friend held on to her hat and tried to wave all at the same time, then she turned to look for her travelling companions. Catching sight of Professor Hicks and his secretary, Miss Amelia Ramsbottom, she raised her arm to signal to them. As she did so, she heard a muffled exclamation and swung round to see that she had succeeded in tipping the remainder of that glass of champagne over the man Justine had upset earlier.

‘I see you are determined to ruin this suit,’ he said, and just for a moment she thought there was a glimmer of humour in his eyes. ‘Did I do something to annoy you?’

Chloe bit her lip. She was tempted to snap at him, but they were going to be on the same ship for a while and there was no point in creating an unpleasant atmosphere as they were bound to meet from time to time.

‘I am sorry,’ she said, trying for composure. ‘Can it be cleaned on board? I shall be happy to pay the bill.’

‘It is of no consequence,’ he repeated, but this time he smiled. Chloe realised that he was quite attractive when his features relaxed from the harshness they had assumed earlier. His hair was black, cut short and slicked back from his forehead, and his eyes were almost as dark as his hair. He spoke with a cultured English accent, but somehow she did not think he was entirely English. His features were too strong, too—would exotic be the right word? She wasn’t sure. He frowned at her. ‘Is there something wrong?’

Chloe realised that she had been staring and blushed. ‘No—forgive me. I must join my friends.’

She left him abruptly, her heart racing. There was something a little unnerving about him, something that made her uneasy. There was an arrogance about him, and something she couldn’t quite place—a feeling that beneath the surface this man was not quite what he seemed. He certainly wasn’t at all like most of the men she knew.

At college she’d met serious-minded professors, the brothers, cousins or fathers of her friends and fellow students. They were all much alike, gentlemen and sons of gentlemen. Some had been nicer than others, of course, but they had all behaved properly, treating her with the respect due to a young woman of good family.

At times Chloe had almost wished they wouldn’t be quite so respectful, but she knew she wasn’t the kind of girl that drove men wild with passion. She wasn’t pert and pretty like Justine, and she didn’t realise that her quiet, thoughtful manner was in itself very attractive—or that she was rather lovely in her own way.

‘Oh, there you are, my dear,’ Charles Hicks greeted her with a smile as she went up to him. ‘We were just wondering where you had got to, weren’t we, Amelia?’

The professor and his secretary, who was of a similar age to himself, had seen many such send-offs on board ship, and had chosen to stay well back from the crowd flooding the rails. They were both dressed in sober tweed suits, which seemed quite unsuitable for the occasion to Chloe.

‘Oh, Chloe was saying goodbye to her friend,’ Amelia Ramsbottom said. ‘You can’t expect her to spend all her time with us, Charles. She’s young and this is her first time on board ship. She ought to enjoy herself while she can.’ Chloe was aware of a slight hostility in the professor’s secretary, and suspected she might be a little jealous of her. Amelia had been travelling with him for years and must wonder why he had invited a young woman to accompany them this time. Chloe had wondered herself at first, but she suspected it was merely kindness on the part of her father’s old friend. He was a successful man, and could afford to indulge his whims, and no doubt he had been aware that money was a little tight in the Randall household.

‘It is certainly all very exciting,’ Chloe said. ‘But I want to help Professor Hicks as much as I can.’

‘I shan’t need you all the time,’ he said. ‘You must enjoy the voyage, my dear. I may ask you to take some dictation for me. Amelia types all my work beautifully, but I go too fast for her when I dictate. Your shorthand should be a big help to me.’

‘I’m going to my cabin,’ Amelia announced. ‘If I were you, Chloe, I should do the same. You may find yourself feeling a little unwell once we get properly underway.’

Charles Hicks watched her go. She was a small, thin woman with greying hair and a prim manner. ‘I fear Amelia is not a good traveller on board, Chloe. She has been a loyal companion for many years, but I really believe she would prefer to stay in England. I think this may also be my last adventure.’

‘Oh, that would be a shame, sir.’

‘Please don’t call me sir—Charles. You must call me Charles.’ His faded blue eyes twinkled at her. He was still a good-looking man though into his senior years. ‘I am sixty-nine, Chloe. I think I shall be content to settle once I have completed this trip. I spent many years in Egypt, as you know, and I have been into the desert on numerous occasions—but I am still looking for a lost city…’ He laughed as she looked at him. ‘Something as wonderful as Petra that would make my name…but I dare say I shall never find it.’

Chloe smiled her understanding. She knew about Petra—in Greek it meant ‘city of rock’ and was an ancient city of Arabia, situated between the Dead Sea and the Gulf of Aqabah, near the intersection of important caravan routes from Gaza to the Mediterranean. It had once been a flourishing city, but then it fell into decay and had been lost, rediscovered in the nineteenth century by a Swiss explorer.

‘I expect many people would like to discover something as wonderful as Petra,’ she said. ‘As you know, my own interest is in discovering beautiful poetry that has been ignored for a long time. Of course, I don’t read Arabic, though I can recognise certain words, but I have done some research and I have been fortunate enough to find some wonderful translations into French and English, which I am collecting together for a book I hope to publish one day.’

‘Yes, so your father told me. I find that interesting. You must show me your work another day, Chloe—but now I think we should follow Amelia’s lead and find our cabins.’

Chloe had been given an inside cabin, which was disappointing in a way, because it would have been pleasant to look out at the sea and the sky. However, she knew that they were more expensive, and she didn’t intend to spend much time in her cabin anyway.

She had wondered how long it would take her to find her sea legs, but soon discovered that she was unaffected by the slight swell of the sea. It might be different if they hit rough weather, but for the moment she was feeling fine and enjoying herself.

Amelia did not join them for dinner that evening, which Chloe thought a shame since there was a festive air as everyone was greeted by the captain when they entered the dining room. Chloe and the professor hadn’t been invited to the most important table that evening, but the other passengers at their own table seemed very friendly and she enjoyed being introduced and talking to all of them.

‘Is this your first voyage?’ a rather plump lady called Mrs Vermont asked. ‘I am a seasoned traveller, of course, but my niece Jane is with me for the first time. You two girls will be company for each other. Now, isn’t it lucky that you are both here?’

Jane Vermont seemed rather a silly girl to Chloe, but they were of a similar age so she smiled and agreed. It would be impossible to avoid the Vermonts and she would need someone to talk to. Most of the other passengers seemed to be much older, which was a little disappointing.

‘What are you going to do after dinner?’ Jane asked her. ‘There’s masses of entertainment—a dance, the live show and they are running a film this evening. I would like to see it, but Aunt Vera doesn’t want to go.’

‘It depends,’ Chloe said cautiously. ‘What are they showing?’

‘I’m not sure—shall we ask the captain later?’

Chloe thought the captain would have more important things to occupy his time, and surely there were enough stewards to ask anyway. Jane was looking towards the top table, smiling and waving, obviously wanting to be noticed.

Chloe glanced that way herself and saw that one of the favoured guests was the man she had bumped into earlier. He was wearing a very elegant black dinner suit and a pristine white shirt with a black bow tie. As she looked at him, he seemed to become aware of her and lifted his glass to her in a salute.

‘Who is that perfectly divine man?’ Jane asked immediately. ‘He’s so handsome—just like Rudolph Valentino, dark and mysterious and sort of threatening.’ She gave an artificial shiver. ‘Do you know him?’

‘No—we met briefly on deck earlier, but we weren’t introduced,’ Chloe said and looked down. The smoked salmon she was eating had suddenly become very interesting and she kept her eyes firmly fixed on her plate. Her heart was behaving very stupidly, and she was afraid that her cheeks might be flushed.

‘Well, he seems very interested in you,’ Jane said and giggled. ‘I wish he would look at me like that…smouldering, that’s the word.’ She smiled at him, but to her discomfiture got nothing but a blank stare. ‘Did you know that there is a film crew on board? They are American, I hear.’

‘A film crew?’ Chloe looked at her, her attention caught. ‘I had no idea—are there any famous actors or actresses with them?’

‘No—I think they probably flew to wherever they’re going. The director is with the crew, though. I think he wants to take some shots on board for some reason. They say he’s looking for a star for his new picture.’ She preened her fluffy dark hair. ‘Do you think I look a bit like Mary Pickford, Chloe?’

Chloe didn’t think she looked at all like the famous star everyone called the ‘World’s Sweetheart’, but she was embarrassed to say so straight out.

‘Well, perhaps a little bit,’ she said. ‘Your hair is the same as hers was in her last film.’

She saw that Jane was pleased, and it was obvious that she had chosen to wear her hair that way in order to look as much like the star as possible.

She really was a bit silly, Chloe thought, and wished her cousin had been on the ship with them, but it was no use sighing over something she couldn’t have. She glanced briefly towards the table, and saw that he was lighting a cigarette for a woman sitting to his left. She was a very beautiful woman, expensively dressed and very sure of herself as she smiled into his eyes.

Chloe looked away again quickly. She wasn’t in that sort of league, and couldn’t compete with a woman like that—not that she wanted to, of course.

‘Do say you will come and watch the picture with me,’ Jane said as people began to make a move from their tables a little later. ‘I just asked one of the stewards and he said it was Valentino’s latest picture. I am longing to see it.’

‘I saw that before I came away,’ Chloe said, but then as Jane’s face fell. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.’

‘You two young things get off,’ Mrs Vermont said indulgently. ‘I’ll sit here and keep the professor company for a while.’

Chloe caught the look of dismay in his eyes before he managed to hide it and smiled inwardly.

‘Do you mind?’ she asked him. ‘Or is there some work you would like me to do for you this evening?’

He looked tempted, but shook his head. ‘I am not such an ogre as to make you work on your first evening, Chloe. No, my dear, you run along and enjoy yourself.’

Jane was full of the film as they left the small theatre afterwards. She went on and on about the star of the film being so handsome and exciting, until Chloe thought she would scream.

‘I really ought to go now,’ she said. ‘I must see if Miss Ramsbottom needs anything before I go to my own cabin.’

In her haste to escape her chattering companion, Chloe took the next turning, which she imagined to be the corridor leading to her own and Miss Ramsbottom’s cabins. However, when she got to the end and found that it led into yet another corridor leading in a different direction, she realised that she had come the wrong way.

As she turned to retrace her steps, she saw someone coming towards her and hesitated, wondering if there was some way to avoid another meeting. It would look foolish if she went back the way she knew led only to the staterooms, so she really had no choice but to stand her ground.

‘Ah, so we meet again,’ he said and looked amused. ‘I really think we should introduce ourselves, Miss…?’

Chloe hesitated, then took a deep breath. This was ridiculous!

‘Chloe Randall,’ she said and offered her hand. ‘I am travelling with Miss Amelia Ramsbottom and Professor Charles Hicks—and I seem to have taken a wrong turning.’

‘Very easy to do,’ he said, and took her hand, holding it for a moment before releasing it. ‘I am Armand…Philip Armand…and if you would care to tell me the number of the cabin you seek, I should be delighted to help you find your way, Miss Randall.’

Chloe was trying to make up her mind what nationality he was. His surname sounded a bit French, but she didn’t think he looked French—and he had hesitated for a moment, almost as if the name he had given her was not his own. But surely he wouldn’t lie—why should he?

‘I—it is nice to meet you,’ Chloe replied formally and then felt silly. ‘My cabin is number fifty-two and Miss Ramsbottom’s is fifty-nine. I was going to call on her and see how she was feeling before I went to bed. She wasn’t well earlier.’

‘Bed so early?’ His brows rose, a curl of amusement on his lips. He was very much the sophisticated man of the world, and made Chloe aware of how young and naïve she must seem. She knew that her clothes were too young for her, and nowhere near as elegant as the other women on board were wearing. ‘You shouldn’t think of such a thing while on board ship, Miss Randall. A young girl like you should be dancing the night away with a handsome partner.’

Chloe knew he was mocking her. She hadn’t seen any handsome young men on board—and the few older ones who fitted his description would be dancing with someone more interesting than little Chloe Randall.

‘I assure you that I have no intention of dancing with anyone, Mr Armand,’ she said. ‘It has been a long day and I am tired. If you could please direct me to my cabin, I shall not trouble you longer. Especially if there is someone waiting for you…’

Now why had she said that? It sounded as if she were interested—and she wasn’t! Not in the least.

‘Unfortunately there is no one I care to dance with either,’ he replied, smiling oddly. ‘My fiancée was forced to remain in London. However, I should be happy to have you as a partner if you do feel tempted to dance another evening—when you are not so tired.’

To her annoyance, Chloe found herself blushing again. How was it that he was able to make her feel like a stupid schoolgirl? She was about to ask him for directions again when she saw a steward come out of one of the cabins, and turned to him quickly.

‘Certainly, I can show you the way, miss,’ he replied to her hasty question. ‘I am going that way now. Please follow me. Goodnight, Mr Armand.’

So he had not been lying about the name after all, Chloe thought as she nodded to him and followed the steward. Philip Armand shot her an amused glance and walked on down the corridor to where Chloe knew the staterooms were situated. They were much larger than her cabin, and had an opening so that the fortunate guest could step outside in privacy and take the air. She had been told that there was also a sitting room and two large bedrooms, and felt a little envious of the passengers who could afford such luxury.

But she was lucky to be here at all! Chloe reminded herself. She would never even have had the chance to travel abroad like this if it had not been for the generosity of Charles Hicks.

She knocked at Amelia’s door and was asked to enter. When she went in, she saw that the poor woman was lying flat on her back and looked most unwell.

‘Can I do anything for you?’ she asked, and Amelia shook her head. ‘Would you like me to call the doctor to you?’

‘Thank you, no,’ Amelia replied. ‘The steward has already given me something to help settle me. It was good of you to ask, Chloe—but all I want is to be left in peace. I shall be all right in a day or so.’

‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you,’ Chloe said and closed the door quietly as she left.

She was thoughtful as she went into her own cabin. Who was Mr Armand, and why had she had the distinct impression he was lying when he gave her his name?

There was really no reason why he should lie to her—or none that she knew of. Perhaps he was travelling under a false name? Yet why should he be? Was he a spy or something underhand like that—a gangster, perhaps?

Chloe didn’t visit the cinema regularly for nothing! And yet he didn’t look anything like the pictures she’d seen of gangsters in the movies.

She considered what he did look like, and decided he was rather like a picture she had seen in a newspaper of a foreign prince a few weeks earlier. No, not a prince…but she was sure it was something of the sort. She couldn’t quite place the article, but she thought it had something to do with politics…or was it big business? She wasn’t certain, and gave it up.

It surely didn’t matter, because she wasn’t likely to have much to do with him. He would probably avoid her like the plague in future, especially if he happened to have a glass in his hand.

Chloe smiled as she remembered his face when Justine had tipped half that champagne over him. He had been rather put out at the time, but on the second occasion he had seemed as if he had begun to see the funny side of it—and he had been perfectly pleasant this evening, even if she did suspect that he had enjoyed mocking her.

She yawned as she began to undress. She really was sleepy, and she had become irritated by Jane Vermont’s meaningless chatter. It would be too bad if she was forced to put up with that for the whole of the voyage, and once again she regretted that her cousin had not been able to come on the trip with them.

Sighing, she went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of the film she had just seen, but at some time during her dream the face of the Sheikh changed, becoming that of someone she had just met.

‘You are a beautiful, dangerous woman,’ he told her as he looked deeply into her eyes. ‘I shall have to take you to my casbah and lock you away.’

Waking briefly, Chloe remembered where she had seen that article, then went back to sleep and forgot all about it again…