Читать книгу Governess To The Sheikh - Laura Martin - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Malik reclined back on to the cushions and looked across the parapet and out over his kingdom. He’d invited the new governess to dine with him and was waiting for her to ascend the stairs to the rooftop so their meal could begin. He wasn’t sure what to make of Miss Talbot and he knew he shouldn’t judge her on first impressions, but he was eager they set some boundaries and rules before she began teaching his children.

She was young, younger than he had expected. He had known she would be barely out of the schoolroom herself, but when he pictured an English governess, Rachel Talbot, with her deep, soulful eyes and infectious smile, wasn’t what he imagined. Surely a governess should be old, grey-haired and stern, maybe with a wart or two for good measure. His school teachers and tutors had never laughed and he’d certainly never seen such pleasure in their faces as he’d witnessed on Miss Talbot’s.

He was pleased she saw the beauty of his country—too many visitors couldn’t see past the arid desert and the nomadic lifestyle of many of his people—but he needed to ensure she would be suitably strict with his children. They were of royal blood after all, they had to learn to be serious and solemn as the occasion called for it. He doubted Miss Talbot had ever been solemn in her entire life.

Malik rose as he heard footsteps on the stairs. He had ordered for dinner to be laid out in the traditional style on one of the smaller flat rooftops of the palace, accessible from the courtyard via an outdoor staircase. Cushions were scattered around a low table, which would be filled with Hurian dishes when they were ready.

‘Miss Talbot,’ he greeted her as she emerged on to the rooftop.

She took a moment to take in her surroundings before a heartfelt smile blossomed on her face.

‘Your Highness,’ she said, bobbing into a little curtsy.

Malik watched as her eyes swept over the silk-covered cushions, the dark wood table and out to the palace beyond. He couldn’t help but feel proud that it was his kingdom that was inspiring so much pleasure. More disconcertingly he found that as Miss Talbot was surveying her surroundings he was watching her, or more specifically her mouth. He found her lips just a little mesmerising, and he didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who smiled quite as much as his children’s new governess.

He reached out, took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, leading her over to the parapet. Although he had asked her here to discuss his children’s education, Malik didn’t see any harm in showing her a little more of the kingdom she would be living in for the foreseeable future. As they stood looking out over the palace and to the oasis beyond in the fading light of the evening sun, Malik heard Miss Talbot sigh contentedly beside him. The sound made something tighten inside him and he found himself quickly stepping away, trying to cover his confusion with a return to his formal behaviour.

‘Please take a seat,’ Malik said, motioning to the cushions on one side of the low table.

Miss Talbot sat, absentmindedly stroking the soft silk of the cushion beneath her, tracing a pattern over the smooth surface with her delicate fingers. Malik looked away and sat down himself.

‘I asked you here so that we could discuss the children’s education.’

Miss Talbot looked at him directly, nodded and smiled. Malik felt his train of thought slipping away. Hardly anyone held his eye now that he was Sheikh. Most of his advisors and chieftains averted their eyes out of respect when he spoke to them. Only Wahid, who had been with him since he was a young man, dared to look him in the eye and tell him what he really thought. And Wahid was certainly not as distracting as Miss Talbot.

‘Wonderful,’ the governess said. ‘They seem such lovely children. I have so many ideas to help them blossom and have fun at the same time.’

Malik found himself nodding along with her as she spoke, even though he didn’t quite agree with her words. He waited whilst a servant brought a tray of the first course and set the various bowls with hummus, dipping sauces and flatbread on the table.

‘I think it is important that we discuss the objectives and methods you plan to use before you get started with the children,’ Malik said, surprised when Miss Talbot nodded eagerly.

‘I completely agree,’ she said. ‘I think it is very important for parents to play an active part in their children’s education.’

Not quite what Malik meant, but he pushed on anyway.

‘Aahil is Prince of Huria, and one day he will succeed me as Sheikh. He will be the ruler of this small but proud kingdom and he needs to know how to conduct himself at all times.’

He paused. Although he had more to say, he could see the governess’s lips had pursed and already he knew this meant she had an opinion she was eager to give.

‘He is also just a child,’ Miss Talbot said softly.

Malik considered his next words, wondering how to continue. Of course Aahil was still a boy, he knew that, but Malik also knew the weight of the responsibility of running a kingdom. His father had been strict with him, insisting he conduct himself with dignity and gravitas from a young age, and as a result, when his father passed away and Malik became Sheikh, he had already known what behaviour was expected of him.

‘First and foremost he is Prince of Huria.’ Malik expected the governess to drop her gaze and mumble acquiescence, it was what most people did when he talked. Instead she pursed her lips again and held his eye.

‘First and foremost Aahil is a child. One day he will be Sheikh, but right now he is a boy like any other. He might have heavy responsibilities in the future, but that is all the more reason for him to enjoy his childhood.’

‘Games will not teach him to run a country. Laughter will not show him how to deal with mutinous subjects.’ Malik shook his head in frustration. He knew how difficult it was to rule a country, even a small one like Huria. When his father had died Malik had been just twenty-two, but he’d had to step up and do his duty. The first few months had been trying, but he knew he had been well prepared, and that was what he wanted for his son.

‘You’re wrong,’ Miss Talbot said animatedly. ‘Games can teach you strategy and forward planning. They teach you to read your opponents and come up with a way to out-think them.’

Malik didn’t think anyone had come out and told him he was wrong since he’d become Sheikh. It was refreshing, but he found that since he was in fact right, it was also a little frustrating.

‘And laughter?’ he asked coolly.

Miss Talbot smiled. ‘Have you never been in a negotiation with two people who want completely different things? The tension builds and no one can agree on anything. Knowing how to diffuse that situation with laughter is a skill every future Sheikh needs to learn.’

Malik couldn’t help but smile with her. She was clever, this young governess. She might not be right, but she was certainly clever.

While he regrouped Malik motioned for Miss Talbot to begin eating. The food set before them was simple and traditional, food Malik had been served his entire life. The flatbread was baked in every oven in Huria and the accompanying dips found at every dinner table when entertaining guests. Malik loved the food of his country and he felt a glow of satisfaction as he watched his children’s governess place a piece of bread covered in hummus in her mouth and begin to chew. As she ate she closed her eyes momentarily, as if not wanting to distract her tastebuds from the new flavour they were experiencing. He watched her lips as she chewed and noticed the slight curve to the corners of her mouth as she enjoyed what she was tasting. Hastily Malik looked away. Watching Miss Talbot eat was disconcertingly sensual, especially when she popped a finger between her lips and sucked off a stray bit of the sweet dip.

Malik rallied. He was ruler of Huria, a grown man, and he would not be distracted from his true purpose by this young woman’s lips. He might have a body of flesh and blood, but his mind needed to be above such distractions as desire.

‘You may find Ameera difficult,’ he said.

In truth, difficult was an understatement. He knew it must be hard for all his children growing up without a mother, but it seemed to affect his daughter even more than he had ever imagined. Since their mother had died a year ago all of his children had changed. Aahil had become more serious, throwing himself into the role of Prince of Huria, eager to learn everything about the kingdom he would one day rule. Little Hakim had become quieter. Gone was the boy who used to run around the courtyards of the palace pretending to be an assassin or a genie. Those changes Malik could deal with and he knew were to be expected in boys who had lost their mother, but Ameera was different.

Since their mother had died Ameera had become sullen and withdrawn. She refused to utter more than words of one syllable to Malik and he didn’t think he’d seen her smile in months. She was only six years old, but when he looked at her he saw a much older girl, someone who had experienced too much sorrow already in her young life.

He glanced at Miss Talbot. She smiled. She smiled more than anyone he had ever met before. Maybe she might be able to coax a smile out of his little girl.

‘All the more reason to allow her to enjoy herself.’

Malik sighed. He wanted the best for his children, of course he did. He just didn’t always know what that was. His own father had been viewed by many as a liberal. He had sent Malik to be educated in Europe, insisted it was good for his son to be exposed to different cultures and people, but he had also been strict. Malik had never once received a hug from his father, or even anything more affectionate than a warm handshake, and he’d turned out just fine.

‘Ameera will one day be expected to marry into a good family,’ he said. His daughter might only be six, but he had learnt from his own father it was never too early to look to the future.

‘One day,’ Miss Talbot said, waving a hand in the air, ‘is a very long time away.’

‘Not all that long.’

He had married Aliyyah when she was twenty. He had a horrible feeling time would speed by and suddenly his little Ameera would soon be the same age.

Malik waited until their plates had been cleared away and the main course brought up to the rooftop. He couldn’t help but watch as his children’s governess bent over the dish, inhaling the exotic scent and looking on with anticipation a servant uncovered the side dishes that accompanied it.

Most visitors to Huria from Europe were overwhelmed or outright disgusted that nearly all meals were eaten with the hands. Miss Talbot just watched him closely as he scooped up some of the spicy stew with a piece of flatbread and then did the same.

‘You will need to teach them arithmetic, geography, languages and world history. I will employ a local tutor to teach them the history of Huria.’ Malik glanced at Miss Talbot and wondered whether she would argue. She had seemed to protest against everything else he had said that evening.

‘That sounds like a wonderful plan,’ she said. ‘Of course I couldn’t hope to know all the intricacies of the history of a country like Huria.’ She paused and then continued mildly, ‘I will also be teaching the children music, a little natural science and engaging them in physical activity.’

Malik put the piece of bread he had just broken off back down on his plate and exhaled slowly. She was infuriating. He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone argue back, someone calmly pat you on the hand and then tell you they would disobey.

‘You will teach them arithmetic, geography, languages and world history,’ he repeated, struggling to keep his voice calm and level.

‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed. ‘Those subjects are very important. Especially languages.’

Malik waited. He just knew she would have something more to say.

‘But children need a rounded education. They can’t be cooped up in a classroom all day.’

He frowned. That was exactly what was supposed to happen. She was a governess, hired to teach his children. If she wasn’t going to do it in the classroom, then where was she planning on taking his children?

‘Miss Talbot,’ he said sternly—it was a voice many of his advisors cowered from, but she just sat there and smiled sunnily. ‘I have employed you to teach my children the subjects I see fit.’

‘And of course I will do that,’ she said. ‘But when we’re finished with arithmetic, languages, world history and geography we might branch out a little.’

How could you ever be finished with world history? Or languages?

She leaned forward and Malik found himself momentarily distracted by the swell of her breasts above her neckline. Hastily he looked away. Here he was preaching about how he wanted his children to behave and he couldn’t keep his eyes from roaming.

‘Why don’t you let me do it my way for a few weeks? If you really don’t like how your children are coming along, you can send me home.’

Malik opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. She’d outmanoeuvred him. He was a skilled negotiator, always able to smooth things over with neighbouring countries or warring tribes, but he’d just been outmanoeuvred by a governess. He couldn’t argue with her logic—if he didn’t like how she did things he could always just send her home in a few weeks and employ someone more suitable.

He glanced at her again—maybe someone a little less distracting, with that grey hair, stern visage and the scattered warts he had been expecting. Maybe someone who didn’t smile quite so much.