Marguerite Kaye

Historical Romance: April Books 1 - 4


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generously granted me. Or at least, granted my alter ego.’

      She swayed, clutching his sleeve. ‘If it is discovered that you impersonated this English man, Prince Ghutrif would...’

      ‘Prince Ghutrif is only interested in the prospect of more wealthy Englishmen buying Nessarah diamonds.’

      ‘You promised him that?’ Tahira’s voice was almost a wail. ‘You must leave Nessarah at once.’

      ‘You’re being ridiculous.’ Christopher gave her a little shake. ‘I haven’t met Prince Ghutrif, he has no idea what I look like, where I am camped, and what’s more he doesn’t care.’

      ‘But then how did you...?’

      ‘I have a local man, a contact, who acted as my intermediary. I passed myself off as a wealthy English aristocrat. Rather successfully, I might add.’

      Tahira’s alarmed expression turned to one of puzzlement. ‘A contact? You have used that word before. What kind of contact?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Christopher said impatiently, ‘what matters is...’

      ‘That you have put not only yourself but this contact in mortal danger by dint of your deception.’

      ‘Tahira, I don’t know why you’re getting so...’

      ‘Angry? Frightened? No, actually I’m terrified. No matter how important this amulet to you is, it cannot be more important than your life.’

      ‘You’re quite wrong. Until I am rid of it, I have no life worth living.’

      Her jaw dropped. ‘You can’t mean that.’

      He could. He did. But he was not inclined to explain himself. ‘You’re missing the point,’ Christopher said. ‘I succeeded in gaining entry to the diamond market. I managed to compare...’

      ‘Are you a spy?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Are you here on English government business?’

      ‘No.’ But the denial was unconvincing, even to himself. He didn’t want to lie to her. ‘There is a man in the English government who has supplied me with papers and contacts.’

      ‘By the stars, you are a spy. Do you—what are you—have you been spying on me?’ She was quite pale, her eyes huge.

      ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

      She licked her lips, but did not speak.

      ‘I’ve thought of it,’ Christopher admitted. ‘I’ve thought of following you home. It would be simple enough, to find out who you are, who your family are. It is not lack of curiosity which has prevented me from doing so but respect for you. You have chosen to keep your identity a secret. So be it. I promise you, Tahira, spying is not my business, surveying is. The truth is, I needed the papers to facilitate my quest, to help me move around freely, gain entry to places such as the diamond market, and even to get me out of hot water if necessary, so I persuaded a man at the Foreign Office to procure them for me.’

      ‘Persuaded.’ Tahira’s colour had returned. ‘What did he want in return? Because such men always have a price. We have a saying. “You shake my olive tree and I will shake yours.”’

      He couldn’t help but laugh, though he also couldn’t help but wonder how she came by her knowledge. What men did she know? He’d assumed her family were at least moderately wealthy, but clearly they also had some influence. More questions he couldn’t ask. ‘You’re quite right. He wanted information. Nothing sinister, I assure you. Trade opportunities, which kingdoms would be open to it, what they would trade in, that kind of thing. Information that would be of mutual benefit to Britain and whichever Arabian kingdom engaged with them.’

      ‘And beneficial to the man at your Foreign Office who facilitated bringing the two parties together.’

      ‘Indeed. You are most astute.’

      Tahira shrugged. ‘I know of such men. Who is he, this man at the Foreign Office, how do you come to know him?’

      ‘Let us say that our meeting was an accident, and leave it at that. My report will give him what he wants, what we agreed, but it will fall a long way sort of all the information I have garnered,’ Christopher said. ‘Arabia is an untapped treasure trove of minerals and ores. That most valuable information I’ll be keeping to myself.’

      ‘You know you could make your fortune by selling it?’

      ‘And you know I won’t. You still haven’t asked me the outcome of my act of derring-do.’

      He was relieved to see her smile again, her suspicions and fears giving way to excitement. ‘Well?’

      ‘The diamonds are an exact match!’

      ‘Oh, Christopher!’ Tahira threw her arms around his neck, her expression, in the light of the nascent moon, finally every bit as elated as he felt. ‘That is wonderful news. Though I still can’t believe you took such a risk—but you came to no harm. Tell me you will not do anything so foolhardy again.’

      He refrained from making a promise he was more than likely to break, if the situation required it, putting his arms around her waist. Immediately his body stirred to life, remembering all too well the shape of her curves, the taste of her kisses. ‘We must not get too far ahead of ourselves. The turquoise is still key, the final piece of the puzzle.’

      ‘Soon, though. In a matter of days, they will have mined the first samples.’ Tahira must have sensed his sudden stillness. ‘Or so I have heard,’ she said, looking away, over his shoulder. ‘There is much talk of it in Nessarah. The miners are being paid extra to make haste.’

      He had heard such rumours, though he had not heard anything about samples. Was her brother involved in the mine in some capacity? That would certainly explain how she came to be here that first night. He hesitated, torn between curiosity and a reluctance to set her on edge again with questions, and she forestalled him with a change of subject.

      ‘I too have news, though mine is dismal. My brother has found a candidate for my hand. If the negotiations go well, my betrothal could be announced within seven or ten days.’

      His heart sank. ‘So soon?’

      There were tears misting her eyes, but she was biting her lip, determined not to let them fall. ‘I want—I so very much want to know—to be with you, when you successfully complete your quest, but there is a chance that might not be possible.’

      Every instinct urged him to pull her close, to hold her tight, to tell her that he would find a way to prevent that happening, but that would be pointless and meaningless. And wrong. Instead, he kissed her forehead, forced himself to let her go. ‘We might be closer to a resolution than you think. Last night I worked on after you left, and I made a potentially exciting discovery. Come and see what I’ve found.’

      * * *

      Tahira did not need Christopher’s assistance to ascend to the gap between the main outcrops of rock, but she liked the feel of her fingers twined with his, the way their legs brushed through their clothing, the way he looked down every few moments, as if he was afraid she had disappeared.

      Juwan had made her announcement this afternoon, seeking out the sisters in the Courtyard of the Healers. ‘Negotiations are at an advanced stage,’ her sister-in-law had declared with a triumphant little smile. ‘My husband is very pleased with progress. A man of substance, family and influence. You are most fortunate, Tahira.’

      Tahira could not bring herself to speak. It was Ishraq who asked the questions, Tahira shutting her ears to the answers, as if ignorance would make a mere mirage of her suitor. But later, as Ishraq enviously recited his many reputed virtues, it was impossible not to hear. A paragon, an Adonis, worshipped by his people, a man any woman would be immensely proud to call husband, Ishraq had said. The irrefutable facts relating to the stranger who would own her were lodged