Nothing touched her and nothing could—other than the heartbreak of not being with the man she loved.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘DARLING, calm down, sit down, and drink that cup of tea before it gets cold!’
Sienna sniffed and smiled, and took a sip of the fragrant Earl Grey. How some things nev
er changed!
‘That’s better,’ said her mother approvingly, brushing some mud from the leg of her jodhpurs and dunking a digestive biscuit into her own tea.
‘Mum, I’m so sorry—’
‘Oh, fiddlesticks!’ said her mother cheerfully. ‘It’s done my reputation no end of good locally—I’ll never be asked to judge the prize cauliflower section at the village show again!’ She sighed. ‘I was getting rather bored with it, if the truth were known.’
‘No, I’m serious.’
‘And so am I, Sienna,’ said her mother firmly. ‘In my opinion you look rather lovely in those photos—and if you compare them to some of the nudes in our national galleries, why, they’re positively tame! It’s all a question of perception. I admit that when you first did it I was angry—but not for long. How could I be when the money you earned from it meant that I could have my operation? I thanked you then from the bottom of my heart and I still do.’ She finished her biscuit and edged her fingers towards another. Better not. Now, what I really want to know is—what’s this young sheikh of yours really like?’
This, in a way, was even harder than explaining that for the time being there were two hefty bodyguards stationed at the front gate.
‘He’s not young, Mum,’ said Sienna. ‘He’s thirty-five.’
‘Oh, positively ancient!’
‘And he isn’t…’ No, this, this was the hardest part. ‘He isn’t mine. Not any more. He never was, really.’ She put her cup down and stared candidly at her mother. ‘I just had a relationship with him,’ she said defiantly.
‘Well, thank heavens for that!’ murmured her mother. ‘I was beginning to wonder when you’d find yourself a boyfriend.’
‘Mum!’
‘Well, you never seemed really interested.’
There was a question in her mother’s eyes, and for the first time in her life Sienna spoke to her not as a mother but as another woman. ‘I went out with Hashim years ago—a couple of years after I did the photos, actually,’ she said quietly. ‘And he was a pretty hard act to follow.’
Her mother replied in kind. ‘I’m not surprised,’ she said softly. ‘He looks absolutely gorgeous.’
‘Well, he is—but he just happens to be a sheikh and there’s no future in it. He comes from a fiercely traditional country and anyway—he doesn’t love me.’
‘Are you sure he doesn’t?’
‘Of course I’m sure!’
‘He didn’t have to go to all the trouble of arranging protection for you, did he? Or deliver that gorgeous hamper and massive bouquet of flowers for me.’ She stared happily at the massed display of blooms which were currently making the sitting room look like a florist’s shop.
How could her mother ever begin to understand that for a man of Hashim’s untold wealth such gestures were mere drops in a limitless ocean? ‘He feels guilty,’ she said flatly. ‘This would never have erupted if it hadn’t been for his position. That’s all.’
‘Have it your own way, darling—if you want to be stubborn, then I can’t stop you. Now.’ Her mother beamed at her. ‘Do you want to see if you can fit into your old jodhpurs and give me a hand in the stables? A bit of good old-fashioned fresh air and exercise is just what the doctor ordered. Then later I’ve asked Kirsty over for tea. Cara is three now. Can you believe it?’ She smiled. ‘It only seems a minute ago since you and Kirsty were toddling off to nursery together at the same age.’
Sienna smiled too, because the thought of seeing her old friend was strangely comforting. It was all too easy to let friendships slip—though time and distance played their part. Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she’d taken Kirsty’s path in life—stayed around and married a local farmer, then started producing a brood of children. Would that have guaranteed her personal happiness?
It wasn’t that easy, she decided, as she struggled into her old riding clothes. It wasn’t the place you chose or the job you ended up doing—it was all to do with the man you ended up falling in love with and the path that took you on.
And she had just had the misfortune to fall for someone who wasn’t taking her anywhere.
But her mother was right—the fresh air and exercise did work their own kind of magic. Physically, at least. The aching in her heart needed the kind of remedy which never provided instant healing. It needed time.
She got up at first light and went down to the stables. She did all the mucky stuff and some of the fun stuff too—for there was nothing more rewarding than watching fearful children grow in confidence as they began to master the skill of riding. Life suddenly seemed very simple—and her busy London existence like something which had happened in a past life.