Recalling his struggle with the super-stretchy dress, Molly giggled, feeling wonderfully carefree after the challenging events of the day. But before they could head down the stairs to leave, Azrael was intercepted by Butrus, who announced that the doctor wished to consult him about Tahir’s condition.
Ten minutes later, having been assured that Azrael would join her as soon as he was able, Molly walked alone into the reception being staged in a drab, scantily furnished room. A small, spare man with a tight little mouth, forbidding dark eyes and a greying goatee beard headed straight for her accompanied by the ambassador, who performed an introduction. Even as she explained that Azrael had been delayed, Molly was very tense. The coldness in the Prince’s gaze was no surprise to her because she knew that she had to be the very last woman he would have wanted Azrael to marry. Even worse, she was the young woman whom Tahir, his son, had kidnapped.
‘Your Highness,’ she said smoothly, having been coached well by Zahra.
Polite conversation was exchanged but the strain in the atmosphere was unmistakeable. Molly assumed that everyone present was aware of Tahir’s unsanctioned flight from Quarein and his father’s guardianship as well as his current residence within his brother’s household. The ambassador was hailed by a guest and moved to the other side of the room.
‘You are, I must assume, a very clever woman,’ Prince Firuz remarked stiffly.
Molly’s slim shoulders straightened as she decided to take the comment at face value and not look for double meanings. ‘Why do you think that?’ she parried quietly.
‘First you tempt my son to the edge of madness and then you seduce and marry my stepson,’ the older man murmured in an embittered undertone. ‘But I assure
you that you will never be Queen here.’
‘Is that so?’ Molly queried without any expression at all, determined not to be drawn into defending herself. He was an unpleasant man and she had been well warned of the fact but that didn’t mean that she had to stoop to the same level.
‘My niece, Nasira, will be Queen of Djalia when Azrael takes her as his second wife. She will be his true wife,’ he proclaimed with a pitying smile. ‘You are only a distraction, an amusement, and if you are not prepared to share your husband with another wife I would advise you to bow out now.’
Molly could feel perspiration beading her brow but she refused to react. Her legs felt as weak as cooked spaghetti under her, her knees trembling with the rigidity of her stance. She felt sick, literally felt the blood ebb from below her skin. A second wife? She refused to even consider that possibility but knew that it was yet another subject that she and Azrael had not discussed and she had no idea of his views. She knew his grandfather, the infamous Hashem, had had multiple wives. One extra wife might even seem quite modest in comparison, she found herself reflecting insanely.
An arm settled against her stiff spine and Azrael’s voice sounded above her head as he engaged the older man in conversation in their own language. She guessed that he was bringing the Prince up to date on Tahir’s condition and there was a freezing silence at one point before Firuz simply glowered and turned on his heel without another word to stalk out of the room.
‘We’ll circulate for half an hour and then we’ll leave,’ Azrael breathed tautly. ‘You should’ve brought Zahra with you—’
‘We were already running late and she had gone home for the evening. It seemed pointless to disturb her when you were still expecting to come,’ she fielded, proud that her voice was level.
But it seemed that Azrael was much too acute an observer to be fooled. ‘You’re very pale. What did he say to you?’
‘I’ll tell you later...not here,’ she muttered uncomfortably, not even sure she wanted to share what had been said to her.
It was nonsense and nasty nonsense at that, she told herself squarely. How could she even credit such a suggestion? Prince Firuz was furious that Azrael had married an ordinary Englishwoman instead of his multi-talented and regal niece. He also blamed Molly for her abduction by his son. And going by the way he had treated his stepson, he didn’t much like Azrael either.
‘Tahir is receiving treatment but he is in no state to travel even if he wanted to, which he does not,’ Azrael divulged when they finally left the reception and had the privacy to talk in their car. ‘I cannot turn my back on him. He has no one else but I also have a duty to you as my wife—’
‘Don’t fuss,’ Molly urged wryly. ‘I can cope if I must with a very large, disgruntled teenager, particularly if he’s unhappy. Whatever else he is, he’s your brother and he came to you for help. And no, don’t tell me that I’m being generous or forgiving because forgiveness doesn’t come into it at this stage. I’m being practical. We can’t throw him out and even Tahir deserves a second chance.’
‘Nasira urged me to throw him out to force him to return to Quarein,’ Azrael proffered, startling her.
Molly turned her head, green eyes sparkling with annoyance. ‘I wasn’t aware you were in contact with her.’
‘We spoke when you returned to London to prepare for our wedding and since then she has stayed in touch by text.’
‘How did you speak to her when I was in London?’ Molly questioned sickly.
‘I attended a charity dinner in Dubai while you were away. I was surprised when Firuz arrived with Nasira. I could see that she was uncomfortable socialising in mixed company without her veil. I felt sorry for her,’ Azrael startled her even more by confessing. ‘It was obvious to me that her uncle had put pressure on her to make that public appearance so that she could meet me again.’
Molly swallowed hard and the silence dragged. He had seen Nasira recently and he was texting the other woman. She felt sick and shaky again, as if the foundations of her world were crumbling beneath her. Texting! she thought again. She hadn’t expected to hear that. Relations with Nasira were clearly much more friendly than she could ever have guessed. Did Azrael win points for being honest about that fact? Bad deeds could hide in plain sight, she reminded herself unhappily.
‘You said you’d tell me what Firuz said to you—’
‘Not right now. I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ Molly framed jerkily.
Azrael was frowning. ‘He upset you—’
‘Now you’re imagining things,’ Molly complained, grateful as their transport pulled in at the castle entrance. She needed to compose herself before she confronted him, she reflected dizzily. Texting? Sexting? How could she possibly know? There was much more of a relationship between Nasira and Azrael than she had naïvely realised and that shook her because in the light of that information Firuz’s allegations no longer seemed quite so far-fetched.
On automatic pilot, Molly climbed out of the car and sped through the hall straight for the stairs. Azrael strode after her, anger beginning to stir in his dark eyes because Molly was usually open with him and he was exasperated by her sudden evasiveness.