‘Because Prince Salim’s horses were the direct descendants of the stallions you had lost? And because not only were they the best and therefore likely to secure victory, but by owning them you would restore the pure Arabian bloodline that had been broken.’
‘Precisely.’
‘And in doing so, restore the honour of your family name, your own bloodline.’
‘It seems I left my impenetrable cloak at the horse fair! You are absolutely right but there is even more to it than that. That is—that is what I am attempting, rather poorly, to explain to you.’
‘Elmira,’ Stephanie whispered. Not because she understood, but because it was the only possible link. ‘Elmira’s father won the race. Elmira’s father sold you the new bloodstock.’
Rafiq stared into the fire for a long time. When he spoke it was slowly, carefully. ‘He did not sell them to me, Stephanie. He gave them to me. Sufficient stallions to replenish my stables, and all guaranteed descendants from the Bharym stud.’
‘But you said—I thought—today—you said the stallions cost you more than I could imagine, and now you tell me that they were given to you...’
‘At a price.’
‘What price?’
‘Can’t you guess?’
He waited while she worked it out for herself, and when she did, she couldn’t disguise her shock. ‘That you marry Elmira!’
‘I had no choice,’ Rafiq said harshly. ‘Prince Salim would not sell them to me for any amount of gold. He coveted the power and political influence that would result from an alliance with a kingdom such as Bharym. It was not only the opportunity to establish the stud, the first vital step on the road to reclaiming the Sabr, it would heal the rift between Bharym and the most influential Bedouin tribe. I had no choice, Stephanie.’ He shook his head wearily. ‘At least that is what I thought. I had no idea then—if I had realised—but I was blinded by my ambition.’
‘Your people’s ambition.’
‘No, I will not allow you to excuse me. I am their Prince and I have a duty to them, but I cannot deny the strength of my own ambition. I told you how, as a child, I dreamt of riding the winning string of horses one day, how that dream turned to ashes when my father burned down the stables. It was very important to me, but important enough to marry for? Because make no mistake, that is what I did, Stephanie. I married Elmira solely for her dowry.’
‘She was a princess. Her bloodline—you said Prince Salim was happy with the match...’
‘Oh, it was a good match, one my Council also heartily approved of.’
‘There, you see! It all makes perfect royal sense.’
‘Royal sense?’
‘A bride with the appropriate pedigree. Stallions with the appropriate pedigree. An end to the feud your father started.’
‘Royal sense,’ Rafiq repeated dully. ‘You’re right, everyone got what they wanted, especially me. Everyone except poor Elmira. That is why my horses are plagued.’
‘That is what you meant when you said that the sickness was your fault, when you said that your misfortune was all your own making? Rafiq!’ Stephanie shook his arm. ‘Nature is to blame for the sickness, you must see that. It would have struck whether you had married Elmira or not. Whether you loved her or not.’
‘I did not love Elmira.’
For the first time when Rafiq spoke of his dead wife there was sorrow in his voice. It twisted at Stephanie’s heart for reasons she was reluctant to explore. ‘It is not a crime, in an arranged marriage, not to feel true love.’
‘There are other crimes, which must be atoned for.’ Rafiq shivered and stared into the fire.
‘Are you cold?’
‘A little.’
Stephanie was at a loss. He had clearly not told her everything, but he had told her a great deal. He had trusted her. The significance was not lost on her. She pulled his arm around her neck and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
Rafiq laughed gruffly. ‘For revealing the flawed man lurking beneath the perfect Prince?’
She kissed his hand, snuggling closer. ‘When I told you about Rupert, my biggest fear was that you would think me gullible, that you would judge me as harshly as I judged myself. You told me then that your opinion of me was based on what you knew of me, that what I had done in the past couldn’t change that.’
She pressed another kiss on to his hand. ‘It is the same for me. I know you for an honourable man. A man who wants desperately to do right by his people and his kingdom. A man who has sacrificed a great deal to make good on a pledge he made. A good man, Rafiq. One who, like me, may regret what he did, but who is determined to atone for it. You judge yourself far too harshly.’
‘No.’ He removed her arm gently and got to his feet. ‘It is not possible to do so.’
‘But...’
‘No.’ He held out his hand to help her up and pulled his boots on. ‘It is a beautiful night, and I brought you here to walk in the desert under the stars, if you still wish to do so? We have dwelt long enough in the past.’
She tucked her arm into his. ‘Then let us inhabit the present. Just us, just now.’
* * *
Stephanie was curled up inside the tent, sleeping under a mound of blankets. Rafiq fed the fire, listening to the sounds of the desert. They had walked for an hour, talking of little or nothing. The names of the insects which buzzed around the oasis. The constellations above them. No mention of horses. No Sabr. No Elmira.
Today was not his first meeting with Prince Salim, but it was the first time he had encountered him unexpectedly. At the time, the Prince had received the tragic news of Elmira’s death with the phlegmatic resignation of a seasoned despot with a coterie of eligible daughters. A point he had been at pains to reinforce earlier today.
Rafiq groaned, dropping his head on to his hands. He didn’t need to feed his guilt with the realisation that Elmira meant as little to her father as she had to him. But he fed it all the same, adding another branch to the towering pyre.
Were all men so heedless of the effect their actions had on women? Why did not more women rebel? Stupid question. He could not imagine Elmira speaking to him the way Stephanie did. He could not picture Elmira standing up to Jasim. Could not envisage her demanding he pay her more attention, spend more time with her. Because she was happy with her cosseted if cloistered lot? Or because she was afraid to?
The question made him feel quite sick. Confiding in Stephanie had only served to make him feel more guilty for having made a partial confession. The urge to tell her the whole of it was there, like a hand in his back, pushing him over a precipice. Madness. Pointless. Not that it mattered, whether he lost her good opinion of him or not, because she was only the Royal Horse Surgeon. She’d be going back to England in a few months.
No, it was far too late to pretend that he didn’t care what Stephanie thought. Which meant it would be folly indeed to tell her the whole unpalatable truth. Sighing, he banked up the fire, for they would require coffee before they started out for the palace in the morning. Earlier today he had promised her there would be kisses tonight. Nothing had turned out as he had planned. He should have known better than to plan anything that involved Stephanie!
Rafiq pulled off his boots. He was far too overwrought to sleep. He would sit in the doorway of the tent and watch the stars. Stephanie sighed in her sleep, throwing an arm out of the cover. She had taken off her tunic, and wore only her pantaloons and camisole. He didn’t want her to get cold. Kneeling down beside her, he tried