Historical Romance Books 1 – 4. Marguerite Kaye

was still being kept in isolation in a loose box. The mule, it seemed to Stephanie, was the only male in the entire stables who was pleased to see her. She sat down beside him in the straw thinking to close her eyes for a few moments and order her thoughts. She was certain that somewhere in the uncomfortable exchange she had just had with Jasim lurked a clue to this wretched, horrible sickness. A vital piece of information, but for the moment she could not put her finger on it. Rafiq would be expecting a report from her. She didn’t want to go to him without something positive to say. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to face him at all.

      Today had begun on such a high note, she thought, ruffling Batal’s ears. She had been so full of hope. And then this afternoon—oh, this afternoon! It had been astonishing. Astounding. Ecstatic.

      Batal gave a wheezing little bray. He was still very congested. The sickness seemed to particularly affect the lungs and the heart. She settled him as best she could, then went to fetch him some fresh water. The stables were quite dark. Outside, the night sky was littered with stars. Returning to the loose box and setting down the wooden pail, Stephanie shivered. Someone walking over her grave, Papa would say. A shadow in the corridor moved. She knew, though she could not see him, that it was Jasim.

      She despoiled the place. She upset the harmony. She contaminated our male domain with her presence. And she paid the price for it. He took my side, in the end.

      Whispering goodnight to Batal, Stephanie closed the door of the loose box and crossed the courtyard of the stables. Rafiq had taken her side today. Rafiq had told her, right from the start, that Jasim would resent her, that Jasim would think her an interloper. And he’d told her too, that Princess Elmira had had an affinity with horses, which Jasim had not appreciated. Jasim was simply trying to frighten her. He was trying to intimidate her, put her in her place. Rafiq was on her side. They were all on the same side, if only Jasim could see that.

      She tapped lightly on the door of the harem. Time and again, she had tried to persuade Aida not to wait up for her, to no avail. Luxurious as her surroundings were, delightful as it was to have her warm bath run, a cool drink poured, there were occasions like this when the harem felt claustrophobic. She didn’t like being locked in behind that huge door with its observation grille and Aida as its gatekeeper. She didn’t like feeling watched. She didn’t like the sense that she was never, ever alone.

      She was exhausted. Whatever price the Princess Elmira had paid for whatever perceived crime she had committed by being in the stables, it could be nothing compared to the price Anadil had paid tonight. The loss of the mare hit her anew, as Aida ushered her into the steaming bathroom. Stephanie climbed into the bath, immersed herself in the water, and wept.

      * * *

      Stephanie had requested that Rafiq stay away from the stables for a week in the wake of Anadil’s death and Jasim’s return, and that week was now up. Rafiq had spent the morning in Council.

      Apart from the Sabr, only one topic roused the Council from their apathy. It was not the new trade deal which Rafiq had struck with the neighbouring kingdom of Nessarah, but the fact that beautiful Princess Tahira of that kingdom was betrothed to the Prince of Qaryma, for the Council believed she would have made Rafiq a most suitable bride. This last had been stated at the end of the meeting with an air of expectation. The twelve men of his Council had failed to disguise their disappointment when Rafiq had made no comment, but he knew it would not be long before the subject of his lack of a wife was raised formally, especially if victory in the Sabr was secured.

      But the Sabr was very far from won. Though Jasim continued to put the potential runners, now housed permanently at the training grounds, through their paces, Rafiq had not had the heart to watch.

      One step at a time. One week, and no more cases. He changed out of his formal robes and made his way to the stables. Stephanie was sitting on her favourite seat. Though they had made no arrangement to meet, she had obviously been waiting for him, jumping to her feet and crossing the courtyard to greet him. She was wearing a tunic he had not seen before, alternating blue stripes the colour of the morning sky and the Arabian Sea, with her usual plain white abba over it. Her hair had lightened considerably, the golden streaks like new-minted gold now predominant, her skin also burnished by the sun, making her lips look pinker. Her smile lifted his mood. He had missed her company. He had not noticed, until she came to Bharym, how much of his time was spent alone.

      ‘I hoped you would come,’ she said. ‘I heard that you had a Council meeting, but I hoped...’

      ‘A week, you asked me to stay away,’ Rafiq said, returning her smile. ‘It has been a long week.’

      ‘Did I ask too much? I wanted to prove...’

      ‘That you did not need my protection,’ Rafiq said.

      ‘Yes.’ Stephanie glanced back at the stables.

      ‘Jasim is at the training grounds.’

      ‘It’s not only—it’s all of them. Even Fadil. I feel that they are all looking over my shoulder, waiting for me to make another mistake.’

      ‘Stephanie, Anadil’s death was not your fault.’

      ‘No, but if I had been summoned earlier, then perhaps I could have stopped...’ She coloured.

      Rafiq stiffened. ‘Stopped what, precisely? Did Jasim have the nerve, against my express orders, to try to treat the mare in your absence? Do not answer me, I can see from your expression that he did. Why have I heard nothing of this?’

      His tone made her flinch, but she straightened her shoulders and glared up at him, just exactly the way she had squared up to him that first day. ‘I did not tell you, because I did not want you to intervene again. I know your intentions were noble, but I recall quite clearly telling—asking you not to command Jasim to co-operate with me the very first night, when we dined together, I told you—suggested—that it would only make him more defensive. I thought you agreed with me, Rafiq, but obviously you simply thought that it would be easier not to argue with me, and to do what you thought was best regardless.’

      ‘With your best interests in mind.’

      ‘But you still went behind my back.’

      ‘So you repaid me in kind by omitting to tell me that Jasim had interfered with Anadil’s treatment?’

      ‘I did not...’ She stopped, running her hand through her hair, heaving a sigh. ‘You had already berated the man in front of everyone, Rafiq, and as far as I know he has not disobeyed you since.’

      ‘He should not have disobeyed me in the first place. I will make it clear to him that I will not tolerate another incidence.’

      Stephanie sighed again. ‘He is your Master of the Horse and vital to your aspirations regarding the Sabr. I did underestimate the extent of his—his resistance to women. So it was unfair of me to berate you when all you were doing was trying to protect me.’

      He had been protecting her, but he had also gone against her wishes. And although he had been right to do so, he had been wrong not to tell her, as Stephanie had been quick to point out. Having his actions questioned was a novel and slightly unsettling experience. ‘Stephanie, it is done and dusted. Let us forget it.’

      ‘No, you’re right to be angry. You are, after all, my employer and a prince and on both counts are entitled to know exactly what is going on.’ She screwed up her face apologetically, tried to smile. ‘Sorry.’

      ‘Stephanie,’ Rafiq said, utterly beguiled, ‘I am not angry, I am discomfited. Something you can evoke in me with frightening ease. That is a compliment. I think!’

      ‘Truly?’

      ‘Truly,’ he said with a smile.

       Chapter Seven

      Two days later, Rafiq was waiting for Stephanie in the Hall of Campaign. ‘You wanted to see me?’

      ‘More