Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride. Marguerite Kaye

question? She couldn’t help but feel there was more to this story than Kadar had admitted, but it was a very sad story, and she was happy to move on from it. ‘What kind of ruler was he?’ Constance asked.

      She was pleased to see Kadar’s expression lightening a little. ‘Butrus was like your Prince Regent before he ate too much and spent too much,’ he replied with a trace of a smile. ‘You know, the epitome of what people expected of their Prince, charming and hospitable, ebullient, gregarious, and always more than happy to put on a display of pomp and ceremony.’

      ‘And the other side of that coin?’

      Kadar’s smile broadened. ‘You’re quite right. He was thoughtless, quite selfish. It came of growing up knowing that the crown would be his. He had an air about him, of...’

      ‘Entitlement! My father is just such a one, though he had but two subjects to command.’ Kadar raised his brows, but Constance shook her head impatiently. ‘We were talking of your brother.’

      ‘I need not say any more. It sounds as if you have his measure perfectly.’

      ‘Well, I hope you’ll make a very different prince.’

      Kadar laughed. ‘Then that makes two of us.’

      ‘Only two?’

      His laughter died. Constance was treated to his Sphynx look. ‘People do not know me as they did Butrus, and my father before him.’

      ‘But you said you had only been abroad for seven years, and you are—thirty?’

      ‘I am twenty-nine. My inclinations have always been scholarly. Butrus and my father thought I preferred books to people. It was not true, but sadly there were very few people who shared my interests here in Murimon. We are a seafaring kingdom, and have not a tradition of learning.’

      ‘You must have been very lonely,’ Constance said. ‘Though I have often dreamed of being locked away in a huge library for ever, I think I would very quickly become one of those people who mutter to themselves under their breath all the time. “Now, Constance, where did you put that book?” “Oh, Constance, surely we read that tome just the other day.” “For goodness’ sake, Constance, you’ve got crumbs in Dr Johnson’s dictionary, and you’ve forgotten to feed the cat.” Though I suppose if I had a cat in the library with me, I could talk to it instead. Dr Johnson had a cat, you know. Its name was Hodge. It is mentioned in Mr Boswell’s Life.’

      ‘I know. I’m familiar with the work.’

      She made a face. ‘I’ve done it again, haven’t I? What did you call it, let you have my thoughts unedited. You’re looking at me as if— Actually, I’m not sure I can tell what you’re thinking.’

      ‘I was thinking that I have never met anyone like you. You like to read, then?’

      ‘Anything. Everything. We did have a huge library once, at Montgomery House, but Papa sold all the books. Some of them were very valuable. So now the library is home to a collection of cobwebs.’