‘But if my father has told them that he has insisted that you marry me …’
‘He hasn’t, and he agrees with me that the sudden discovery of our love for each other will provide an acceptable excuse for him to give to the prince. In the eyes of the world this marriage will work, Sophia. Make no mistake. I am determined about that.’
It was over, done. Now, standing here in this anonymous public building that was the marriage registry Ash had chosen, in the eyes of the law she had become his wife. It had been a civil ceremony so plain and direct that against all her expectations she had found in the exchange of the words that had committed them to each other a meaningful simplicity that had touched her emotions. Instead of feeling deprived because she was not having the exotic glamour of a three-day-long traditional Indian wedding, or the pomp and ceremony of being married in the cathedral on Santina, during the ceremony she had thought of all those couples who had made the simple commitment they were making out of love for each other. And that was the cause of the sharp up-rush of pain she felt? Yes, of course it was. What else could it be? It certainly wasn’t because she was still foolish enough to dream of being loved by Ash.
They had signed the registry, their signatures had been witnessed, and Ash had told her that her father intended to break the news to their family that their marriage had now taken place later that evening.
‘Carlotta will say that I should have waited.’
‘And you will tell her that our love for each other meant that we couldn’t.’
To step out into the colourful bustle of the busy street as Ash’s wife felt almost surreal. There had been no couture wedding gown for her, just a simple white linen dress, its colour drawing a look from Ash that had told her how little a claim she had to its virginal purity.
It was too late now for her to change her mind. They were married. Desperate to distract herself from the anxiety and the feelings of being unloved and totally alone in the world that were beginning to engulf her, Sophia looked around at her surroundings once their car had pulled away from the registry office. It would be impossible not to be excited and entranced by the verve and colour that was India, or to have one’s heart captivated by it, she acknowledged. She desperately wanted to share with Ash her wonderment and belief that she would very quickly grow to love her new home, and to ask him questions about the city and of course about his home of Nailpur, but she had to remember that this was a dynastic marriage of convenience. Ash did not want any kind of emotional bonding or sharing between them. All Ash wanted from her was her sexual fidelity and an heir.
‘We need to get back to the apartment,’ Ash told Sophia. ‘We’re flying to Nailpur in a couple of hours.’
A new text beeped into Sophia’s phone. From her mother this time and not Carlotta. Darling, your father and I are so pleased about you and Ash. I remember how you used to adore him when you were young. Be happy.
Be happy? That was impossible.
Another text had arrived, this one from Carlotta, demanding, Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?
Hitting Reply, Sophia wrote defiantly through the emotion threatening to close up her throat. It’s a dream come true. Have loved Ash forever and couldn’t be happier.
Couldn’t be happier, she had told Carlotta, but wasn’t the truth that she couldn’t have been more unhappy?
Ash stared out of the window. He had done the right thing, the only thing given the circumstances, in subjecting his decision to exactly the same logical tests he would have subjected a vitally important business deal, given the development of a situation that meant that decisive action had to be taken and quickly. Yes, he might have had to make the best of a bad job as it were, but his decision had passed those tests.
So why did he have a niggling feeling that there was something important that he had failed to consider? Why did he feel this wary sense of some kind of danger from which he should retreat? Ash knew the cause of his disquiet perfectly well. It could be traced back to those minutes in bed with Sophia on the plane when he had come so close to relinquishing his self-control. Of almost glorying in succumbing to his own need to abandon that self-control for the sake of the pleasure he had known it would give him to take her without it. That would have been an act as reckless in its way and with potentially as far-reaching effects further down the line as if he had had full sex without using any protection. If he had given in to that need, if he had allowed his desire for Sophia to breach his self-control then … But he had not. The steward’s timely interruption had seen to that, and now that he was aware of that possible weakness within him he was in a far better position to deal with it. And he would deal with it.
CHAPTER SIX
THEY flew out of Mumbai, its crowded streets swarming with busy life and brilliant with the vibrant colours of its fabrics and decoration that Sophia had already come to feel somehow warmed against the coldness of the loss of her dreams and the harshness of reality that was chilling her heart. It was just after night had fallen, so that below them, the city was a brilliant spangle of multicoloured lights against the darkness of the night sky.
Ash glanced towards Sophia as she sat still strapped in her seat, and looking out of the jet’s cabin window. He heard her indrawn breath and saw that they were flying over Marine Drive with its plethora of lights.
‘They call it the Queen’s Necklace,’ he told her.
Sophia nodded her head. After all those teenage dreams of becoming Ash’s wife, the mundane reality of the two of them together with nothing of any importance to say to each other was certainly not what her fevered longings had once imagined. But then conversation of any kind hadn’t featured in those teenage longings, Sophia was forced to acknowledge, other than a passionate ‘I love you’ murmured in between the unrestrained passion of Ash’s kisses and caresses.
‘Nailpur isn’t Mumbai,’ Ash felt obliged to warn Sophia as they left the city behind and headed west.
‘No, I know,’ Sophia answered him. ‘I loved what I saw of Mumbai but I’m really looking forward to seeing Nailpur and Rajasthan. I read somewhere that the name translates as the Land of Kings. My father would certainly approve of that.’
‘Nailpur isn’t Jaipur, nor is it any of the other well-known and well-established tourist destinations of Rajasthan. Nailpur is a poor state, its people uneducated, its palaces crumbling. It is my duty to lift my people from that poverty. The days when the maharaja class could live a life of luxury whilst their people endured poverty are not something that can be tolerated any more. And just as it is my duty to lift my people from that poverty so it is also my duty to live amongst them. Your duty as my wife and the mother of my children will be to live with me. So if you were hoping to live in Mumbai—’
‘I am not.’ Sophia stopped him, too cast down to feel like telling him that as a girl she had read everything she could about Rajasthan in general and Nailpur in particular simply because then she had seen it as a part of him and she had wanted to know everything she could about him.
He couldn’t allow this marriage to turn out like his first, Ash thought. No matter what either of them felt, this marriage would endure and not just for the sake of his pride. Only a son brought up to understand and value their family history and the history of their people could truly take his place when the time came.
A royal bride with royal blood was something that his people with their conventional outlook on life, and their belief in the old feudal codes of family and marriage, would expect. He knew that. He had always known it.
A