Читать книгу The Sheik's Arranged Marriage - Сьюзен Мэллери, Susan Mallery - Страница 8

“I ’m going to hyperventilate,” Heidi announced as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in the harem. She stared at her reflection and knew this wasn’t really happening.

Fatima paused in the act of smoothing out the creamy white robe that covered Heidi as effectively as a shroud. “Hyperventilate. Is that too much oxygen or not enough? I can never remember. One requires breathing into a paper bag, while the other means you should put your head between your legs.”

Dora sat on a chair, arranging the folds of the headpiece. “By the time we get it figured out, Heidi will have either passed out or healed.”

Heidi tried to smile at the joke, but she couldn’t. The sense of being trapped was too strong to escape, even for a minute. She was really and truly going through with this—she was about to marry a stranger.

She certainly looked the part, she thought with amazement, studying the person in the mirror. That woman was as much a stranger as Jamal. The white robe covered her from the top of her collarbone to the tips of her toes. In back, it fanned out like a bridal-gown train. Instead of being neatly contained in its usual tidy bun, her hair was long and loose, falling nearly to her waist. Fatima had lined her eyes with kohl and added color to her lips, which emphasized both features in a way that was oddly attractive, Heidi thought, but also unfamiliar. Then there was the matter of her hands and feet.

She lifted one hand and stared at the henna on her fingers and palms. The intricate patterns were traditional in an El Baharian wedding, as in many parts of the world. They marked her as a bride. For as long as the stain lingered on her skin, the bride was considered on her honeymoon. She would not be asked to participate in any household chores.

For Heidi the fading of the henna wasn’t going to make much difference in her day-to-day life. As a princess, she wouldn’t do any cooking or cleaning. But for regular women—the loss of the henna was a time of sadness. The magic of the honeymoon then faded to just a memory. Heidi actually managed a smile as she thought of the great lengths women would go to keep their henna from disappearing.

“You look lovely, child,” Fatima said, smiling at her. “How do you feel?”

“As if I’m entering history,” Heidi replied honestly.

She turned slightly so that she could catch sight of more of the wedding robe in the mirror. Intricately embroidered gold designs were scattered across the back of the garment, stretching from the hem of the train nearly to the small of her back. With each royal wedding, another picture was added. They represented something unique about each bride joining the Khan family.

“I know enough about the customs to understand the significance of the robe and the ceremony. I feel connected with the past.”

That much was true. Now if only she felt more connected with her husband. Since agreeing to marry him nearly two weeks before, she’d been living in the harem. She and Jamal hadn’t spent a single moment alone together. She’d spent her days working on her precious texts and taking riding lessons. She’d seen Jamal only twice, and both times had been at family dinners.

Dora rose and moved toward her, carrying the headpiece. The gold tiara-like crown anchored several yards of tulle. When Heidi approached her groom, every inch of her would be covered.

“I hate that robe,” Dora said cheerfully. “Not only did I have to rip out my stitches about fifteen dozen times, but I pricked myself even more.” She laughed. “So much for my innate sewing skills. Still, I think the design came out very well.”

Heidi glanced down at the new pattern. This was rested near her hip. It was an intricate rendering of the El Baharian medal of honor—the same medal that had been awarded to Edmond, Heidi’s grandfather, for all his help during the Second World War.

As the most recent bride in the family, Dora’d had the responsibility of sewing the next design on the wedding robe. She and Jamal had discussed several options before settling on the medal. Despite being the bride, Heidi hadn’t been allowed any say in the matter. She doubted Jamal could have picked a design that would please her more.

“It’s lovely,” Heidi said, trying not to think about her grandfather because she would cry and Lord knew what would happen to her makeup then.

Fatima read her mind. “Edmond would have been very proud of you this day,” she said. “He always wanted you to join the House of Khan.”

“I know.”

Dora took a step back and studied her. “You’re so lovely,” she said. “The perfect bride.”

“Thank you,” Heidi said with a sincerity she didn’t feel.

She wasn’t the perfect bride, she thought sadly. She was a fraud. She was marrying a man she didn’t know and didn’t love because she didn’t have the backbone to refuse the two people in the world she did love. It was a mess, and she felt like a fraud.

Heidi watched as her sister-in-law to-be fussed with the headpiece, then helped Fatima lower it in place. Dora was a confident, beautiful, content woman. She had an adoring husband, work that she loved, one healthy, happy baby and another on the way.

Heidi stole a glimpse at the slight rounding of Dora’s stomach. It was the only indication of her four-month pregnancy. So far no official announcement had been made, although Dora had whispered the happy news to her a couple of mornings before. Dora had the perfect life, Heidi thought, trying hard not to envy her. Would she and Jamal ever find that? She had her doubts.

It’s not that she disliked him—it was more that she wasn’t prepared to be married to anyone. Worse, she didn’t know him. If only they’d been able to spend more time together. If the few conversations they’d had were any indication, then she and Jamal had the potential to do as he’d requested and become friends. But so far there’d been no opportunity.

The main door of the harem swung open, and a young woman entered carrying a tray. Heidi smiled at Rihana, a servant she’d known for several years.

“I brought tea,” Rihana said, smiling happily. “To calm the bride and you as well, Queen Fatima.”

Fatima reached gratefully for a cup of the steaming liquid. “You’ve saved my life,” she said, then took a sip. “All these details to be worked out in a such a short period of time. I’m getting too old for this.”

“Never,” Dora said loyally, reaching for her own cup of herbal brew. “You shame us all with your energy.”

Rihana offered Heidi a cup, but she shook her head. The long veil was in place, and she didn’t want to disturb it. Besides, her hands were shaking, and she would probably end up spilling the entire cup down the front of her gown.

The dark-haired servant moved next to her. “You are happy to be marrying Jamal, yes? He is the most handsome of the brothers.”

“I heard that,” Dora said, her light blue dress swaying gently as she settled into one of the gilded chairs by the dressing area.

“Khalil is very handsome, too,” Rihana said quickly. “As is Malik. But Jamal—” She giggled. “He charms the ladies.”

“Jamal does have more than his share of female attention,” Fatima admitted. “Of course, all that will change once he’s married.” She patted Heidi’s arm. “Not to worry. He’ll be a faithful and loving husband.”

Heidi nodded with a conviction she didn’t feel. Faithful, probably. Jamal had given his word, and she didn’t doubt him. But loving? How could either of them love the other when they’d been forced into marriage through emotional blackmail? She and Jamal had been set up with an impossible task, and if she already didn’t have enough to worry about, there was also the matter of their wedding night.

Even though Jamal had mentioned putting off having children, he hadn’t said a word about putting off being intimate. She’d asked him to give up his other women, and in return he’d told her she was required to satisfy his appetites.

A shiver rippled through her. The tightness in her chest returned, as did the panic.

Be calm, she told herself. That kiss hadn’t been so horrible. Actually it had been very nice. Maybe the rest of it would be nice, too. Or at least not too gross.

Fatima put down her teacup. “Rihana, come with me. I want to check the banquet preparations one last time. Dora, you’ll stay with Heidi, won’t you? Talk about something to take her mind off the situation.”

“No problem.” Dora waved the older woman away. “Go. Satisfy yourself that everything is going to be perfect. Heidi and I are fine.”

Fatima nodded, then left the room with Rihana right behind her. When they were alone, Dora shook her head.

“Fatima is a force of nature. I hope I’m exactly like her when I get to be her age. Actually, I wouldn’t mind being like her now.”

“I know what you mean,” Heidi said. “I console myself with the thought that she has a lot more practice at all of this.”

Dora set down her tea, then rose, and walked over to stand by Heidi. She adjusted the sleeves of her robe. “At least you’re going to understand the ceremony. When Khalil and I married, everything was a blur.”

“Knowing the significance of everything being said isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Heidi murmured, hoping her stomach would settle down soon. The churning was getting to her.

Dora touched her arm. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to. At the risk of putting myself on the line with my in-laws, I would be happy to get you to the airport.”

The kind offer nearly brought Heidi to tears. Despite the possibility of wrinkling her robe or her veil, she hugged Dora close.

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I so appreciate that.”

“But you’re saying no.”

“I have to.”

Dora stepped back and studied her. “I’ll accept what you’re telling me. Just know that I’m here for you. I think the two of us will get along very well.”

“Me too.”

Dora smiled. “It’s not going to be so bad. There are compensations for a new bride in the Khan family. In fact you’ll find out about one tonight.”

Heidi forced herself to look amused by the comment, when in fact it made her want to run in the opposite direction and never be heard from again. Dora was just being friendly, she reminded herself. She couldn’t know that the thought of having to be intimate with Jamal was enough to tie her up in knots.

Before she had to think of something to say, Fatima bustled back into the room. “Everything is in order,” she announced. “Are you ready?”

The wedding passed in a blur, as did the banquet that followed. Safely hidden in her robe and veil, Heidi remained a silent observer to all that happened.

One good thing about El Baharian weddings, she thought as she refused an offer of food. Nothing much was expected of the bride except that she show up and be quiet. As a student of El Baharian history, she’d been insulted by the lack of participation by one of the key players. Now as a very nervous, virgin bride, she was thrilled by her simple role. If only she could get through the rest of the night so easily.

“Are you ready?” Jamal asked, leaning close and whispering in her ear. “I think we’ve been here long enough.”

Heidi was torn. Leaving meant not being here…which was a good thing. She was tired of everyone staring at her. But leaving also meant being alone with Jamal, which wasn’t a good thing.

“Sure,” she whispered back, then held out her hand so that he could help her to her feet.

Instantly the guests began to call out comments. Khalil’s voice rose above the others as he yelled, “You couldn’t even wait an hour? Watch out, Heidi. Jamal’s going to wear you out.”