The Baldwins met them on the doorstep to express voluble thanks for the sizeable donation that Raja had made to the orphanage. He had not shared that fact with Ruby and was clearly uncomfortable with the couple’s gratitude. They were ushered into an office and Leyla was brought to them there. Her little face lit up when she saw Ruby and she ran in her eagerness to greet her, only to fall to a halt when she saw Raja. He crouched down to a less intimidating height and produced a ball from his pocket. Leyla clutched the ball in a tiny fist while surveying Raja with great suspicion. But Raja was perfectly at home with her, talking to her, smiling and teasing until the child began to giggle and hide her face.
Witnessing that surprising show, Ruby was learning something she hadn’t known. ‘You’re used to kids.’
‘I ought to be. My sisters have five children between them and my cousins must have about thirty,’ he volunteered, finally standing up with Leyla content to be held in his arms, her thumb stuck in her mouth, her eyes bright.
The effort he was making, the kindness he displayed, Ruby reflected on a tide of quiet appreciation, just made her love him all the more. Suddenly the fact he had taken advantage of her susceptibility to him in the desert no longer mattered and her resentment melted away. Hadn’t she encouraged him and taken the final decision? As she had good reason to know he was a very practical and dutiful guy, loyal to his country, his family, faithful to his promises and keen to meet every expectation no matter how unreasonable it might be. And at its most basic, all Raja had ever wanted from her was the willingness to make their marriage work. But the man whom she had resented for that no-nonsense aspiration was also the same one holding the little girl she had come to care for and he was willing for both their sakes to consider making her a part of his illustrious family. And no man Ruby had ever met had been willing to expend even a tenth of Raja’s effort and thoughtfulness into making her happy.
Arriving in the country of Najar was not remotely like flying into Ashur. For a start there was a proper airport that was very large and sophisticated. In fact, as Ruby looked out open-mouthed at the busy streets through which they were being driven with a police escort and motorcycle outriders, Najar seemed to have nothing at all in common with Ashur. Towering office blocks, apartment buildings, fancy shopping malls and exotically domed mosques all blended together in a well-designed city with wide, clean streets. She saw at once why Raja had looked at her in disbelief when she had accused him of wanting the throne of Ashur. Her birth country was very much the poor relation, decades behind its rich neighbour in technology and development.
In contrast, the royal palace was still housed in an ancient citadel separated from the aggressively modern city by the huge green public park that stretched outside its extensive walls.
And the palace might be ancient on the outside but, from the inside, Ruby soon appreciated that Raja’s family home bore a closer resemblance to a glossy spread from an exclusive design magazine. The interior was so grand and opulent that she was stunned by the eye-watering expanse of marble flooring and the glimpses of fabulously gilded and furnished rooms. Her steps had slowed and she was fingering the plain dark dress she had chosen to wear with her nervous tension rising to gigantic heights when a door opened and a group of women appeared. And, oh, my goodness, Ruby’s sense of being intimidated went into overdrive as shrieks of excitement sounded and high heels clattered across the incredible floor. Ruby and Raja were engulfed by an enthusiastic welcome.
Raja drew her forward in her little black chainstore dress. ‘This is Ruby …’ and she wanted to kick him for not warning her that the women in his family wore haute couture even in the afternoon. Indeed one look at Raja’s female relatives and she felt like the ugly duckling before the swan transformation. All of them were dressed as if they were attending a cocktail party. They sported elaborate hairdos, full make-up, jewel-coloured silks and satins and fantastic jewellery.
They entered the room the women had just vacated on a tide of welcoming chatter and questions. Fortunately everybody seemed to speak at least some English. Children joined their mothers in the crowd surrounding Ruby. There was an incredible amount of noise. Most of the men standing around in the big room attempted to act as though they were not as curious about Raja’s bride as their womenfolk were. One tall young man made no such attempt at concealment and he strode across the room to seize her hand and shake it with a formality at odds with his wide grin and assessing eyes. ‘Raja said you were even more gorgeous than you looked in your photo and he was right. I’m his brother, Haroun,’ he told her cheerfully.
Ruby thought that it was heartening to know that Raja paid her compliments behind her back that he would never have dreamt of making to her face. Was he afraid she might get big-headed? Or did compliments fall under the dubious heading of romance? Or did a woman in a platonic relationship just not qualify for such ego-boosting frills? Haroun looked like a smaller, slighter, younger version of his big brother and he was rather more light-hearted, for he was cracking politically incorrect jokes about Ashur within seconds. Drinks and snacks were served by uniformed staff and Raja’s sisters, Amineh and Hadeel, were quick to come and speak to her.
‘You are very beautiful,’ Hadeel, a tall, shapely woman in her mid-twenties, told her with an admiring smile. ‘And a much more suitable match for my brother than your unfortunate cousin.’
‘Am I?’ Ruby studied her sister-in-law hopefully. ‘I never met my cousin so I know nothing about her.’
‘Bariah was thirty-seven years old and a widow,’ Amineh told her wryly.
‘But she was also a very good and well-respected woman,’ Hadeel hastened to add, clearly afraid that her sister might have caused offence.
Ruby, however, was just revelling in the promise of such indiscreet gossip. She had missed that aspect of female companionship and felt that when Raja’s sisters were willing to be so frank with her it boded well for her future relationship with them. Learning that Bariah had been eight years older than Raja and had also been married before was something Ruby could have found out for herself from Wajid, but she had been too proud to reveal her curiosity and ask more questions. She met Amineh’s and Hadeel’s husbands and a whole gaggle of children followed by a long parade of more distant relatives. Everyone was very friendly and welcoming and she was thoroughly relaxed by the time that Raja came to find her. He explained that his father found large family gatherings very tiring and that he was waiting in the next room to meet her in private.
King Ahmed was in a wheelchair and frail in appearance. He had Raja’s eyes and white hair and, although he spoke only a few words of English, his quiet smile and the warm clasp of his hand were sufficient to express his acceptance of Ruby as the latest member of his extensive family. Ruby was surprised to learn that Raja had already told his father about Leyla and their plans. The older man was warmly supportive of their intentions and talked at some length about his sadness over the suffering and disruption inflicted on families during the war.
‘I didn’t realise that you were so close to your father that you would already have told him about Leyla,’ Ruby commented on the way back into the party at the end of their audience with the king.
Raja laughed. ‘No matter where I am in the world we talk on the phone every day. I think he would have been very shocked to hear the news about Leyla from anyone else!’
‘I wish I’d known my father,’ Ruby confided, feeling a slight nauseous lurch in her stomach and tensing slightly, for she had assumed her tummy upset at the start of the day had gone away and she didn’t want it revisiting her while she was in company.
Raja paused to look down at her with his dramatic, dark, deep-set eyes. ‘The loss was his, Ruby. I fear that you suffered because he and your mother parted on bad terms.’
‘Well, after what he did to Mum, naturally they did.’
‘The story of your background that I heard suggested that your mother was aware that your father might well take another wife after they were married. It was a lifestyle practised by several of your ancestors over the past hundred years,’ Raja told her quietly. ‘Perhaps your mother didn’t understand what she was getting into when she agreed to marry him.’
‘That’s