Penny Jordan Tribute Collection. PENNY JORDAN

FRIEZE?’

      The prince frowned as he looked at Mariella.

      It was three days since the charity breakfast, and two since she had visited the new enclosure.

      After what had happened with Xavier, the temptation to simply pack her bags and return home had been very strong, but stubbornly she had refused to give in to it.

      It wasn’t her fault that he had totally misinterpreted things. Well, at least not entirely! And besides… Besides, the commission the prince was offering her had far too much appeal for her as an artist to want to turn it down, never mind what her agent was likely to say!

      So instead of worrying about Xavier she had spent the last two days working furiously on the idea she had had for the prince’s new enclosure.

      ‘The semi-circular walkway that leads to the enclosure would be perfect for such a project,’ she told him. ‘I could paint your horses there in a variety of different ways, either in their boxes, or in a string. I have spoken to your trainers and grooms and they have told me that they all have their individual personalities and little quirks, so if I painted them in a string I could include some of these. Solomon in particular, they tell me, does not like anyone else to lead the string, and then Saladin will not leave his box until his groom has removed the cat who is his stable companion. Shazare can’t tolerate other horses with white socks, and—’

      The prince laughed. ‘I can see how well you have done your research, and, yes, I like what you are suggesting. It will be an extremely large project, though.’

      Mariella gave a small shrug.

      ‘It will allow me to paint the animals lifesize, certainly.’

      ‘It will need to be done in time for the official opening of the stables.’

      ‘And when will that be?’ Mariella asked him.

      ‘In around five months’ time,’ he told her.

      Mariella did a quick mental calculation, and then exhaled in relief. That would give her more than enough time to get the work completed.

      ‘It would take me about a month or two to finish. It has to be your decision, Highness,’ she informed him diplomatically.

      ‘Give me a few days to think about it. It is not that I don’t like the idea. I do, but in this part of the world, we still put a great deal of store on “face”, and therefore, no matter now innovative the idea, if it is not completed on time, then I shall lose face in the eyes of both my allies and my competitors. I certainly have no qualms about your work or your commitment to it, though.’

      He needed time to check up on her and her past record of sticking to her contracted time schedules, Mariella knew, but that didn’t worry her. She was always extremely efficient about sticking to a completion date once it was agreed.

      The nursemaid provided by the prince to look after Fleur whilst she had been working smiled at her as she went to collect the baby.

      ‘She is a very good baby,’ the young woman told Mariella approvingly.

      Once she was back in the Beach Club bungalow, Mariella tried to ring Tanya to both update her on Fleur’s progress and to tell her about her work, but she was only able to reach her sister’s message service.

      If the prince did give her this commission, then at least she would be earning enough to ensure that Tanya did not have to work away from home. She knew her sister wanted to be independent, but there were Fleur’s needs to be considered as well, and besides…

      She was going to miss Fleur dreadfully when the time came to hand her back to her mother, Mariella acknowledged. She was just beginning to realise what her determination never to become involved in a permanent relationship was going to mean to her in terms of missing out on motherhood.

      A little nervously, Mariella smoothed down the fabric of her skirt. She had arrived at the palace half an hour ago to see the prince, who was going to give her his verdict on whether or not he wanted her to go ahead with the frieze.

      A shy nursemaid had already arrived to take Fleur from her, and now Mariella peeped anxiously at her watch. Fleur hadn’t slept very well the previous night and Mariella suspected that she was cutting another new tooth.

      ‘Miss Sutton, His Highness will see you now.’

      ‘Ah, Mariella…’

      ‘Highness,’ Mariella responded as she was waved onto one of the silk-covered divans set around the walls of the huge audience room.

      Almost immediately a servant appeared to offer her coffee and delicious-looking almond pastries glistening with honey and stuffed with raisins.

      ‘I am pleased to inform you that I have decided to commission you to work on the frieze,’ the prince announced. ‘The sooner you can complete it, the better—we have lots of other work to do before the official opening.’

      Quickly Mariella put down her coffee-cup and then covered it with her hand as she saw that the hovering servant was about to refill it.

      Whilst he padded away silently the prince frowned.

      ‘However, there is one matter that is of some concern to me.’

      He was still worrying about her ability to get the work finished on time, Mariella guessed, but instead of confirming her suspicions the prince got up and picked up a newspaper from the low table in front of him.

      ‘This is our popular local newspaper,’ he told her. ‘Its gossip column is a great favourite and widely read.’

      As he spoke he was opening the paper.

      ‘There is here a report of our charity breakfast, and, as you will see, a rather intimate photograph of you with Sheikh Xavier Al Agir.’

      Mariella’s heart bumped against the bottom of her chest, her fingers trembling slightly as she studied the photograph the prince was showing her.

      It took her several seconds to recognise that it had been taken when she and Xavier had been quarrelling, because it looked for all the world as though they were indeed engaged in a very intimate conversation, their heads close together, her lips parted, Xavier’s head bent towards her, his gaze fixed on her mouth, whilst Fleur, whom she was holding in her arms, beamed happily at him.

      Even though she had not eaten any of the pastries, Mariella was beginning to feel sick.

      The article accompanying the photograph read:

      Who was the young woman who Sheikh Xavier was so intimately engaged in conversation with? The sheikh is known for his strong moral beliefs and his dedication to his role as leader of the Al Agir tribe, and yet he was seen recently at the prince’s charity breakfast, engaged in what appeared to be a very private conversation with one specific female guest on two separate occasions! Could it be that the sheikh has finally chosen someone to share his life? And what of the baby the unknown young woman is holding? What is her connection with the sheikh?

      ‘In this country, unlike your own, a young woman alone with a child does cause a certain amount of speculation and disapproval. It is plain from the tone of this article that the reporter believes you and Xavier to be Fleur’s parents…’ the prince told Mariella, his voice very stern.

      ‘But that is not true, Your Highness. We are not,’ Mariella protested immediately. ‘Fleur is my niece.’

      ‘Of course. I fully accept what you are saying, but I think for your own sake that some kind of formal response does need to be made to this item. Which is why I have already instructed my staff to get in touch with the paper and to give them the true facts and to explain that Fleur is in fact your niece and that you are in Zuran to work for me. Hopefully that will be an end to the matter!’

      Mariella frowned as for the third time in as many hours her sister’s mobile was switched onto her message-taking service.

      Why wasn’t Tanya returning her calls?

      Because