Penny Jordan Tribute Collection. PENNY JORDAN
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off after first light tomorrow, and Raschid is in no mood to make allowances for you. He says if you are to come with us you must expect to be treated just like the men.’
‘Isn’t that just typical of him?’ Nadia complained. ‘I swear he thinks more of his falcons than he does of us.’
‘Quite probably,’ Achmed agreed cheerfully. He looked thoughtfully at Felicia, who was trying to play cat’s cradles with Zayad. ‘This will be your first trip into the interior of the desert, won’t it? Nadia will tell you what to take along.’ He frowned and seemed to hesitate.
Had Raschid expressed doubts about the wisdom of taking her along because she was to be a member of the party? A casual enquiry of Zahra had elicited the information that unless they sent someone to Kuwait to collect it they would receive no mail while they were in the desert, and so, thinking herself safe for at least a few days, Felicia had closed her mind to the heartache she was storing up for herself, determined to make of the precious time left to her enough memories to warm her through the long cold years ahead.
A little later in the day Nadia went with her to her room to sort out what she ought to take on the trip. ‘Your jeans, I think,’ she announced, pursing her lips, ‘and a long-sleeved blouse. I think I have riding boots that will fit you. When the falcons are hunting the hubara we shall have to follow on foot, and boots protect the ankles and legs from snakes and scorpions.’
‘Raschid didn’t want us to go because of me, didn’t he?’ Felicia interrupted quietly, needing to know the answer, in spite of the pain it might cause.
Nadia looked uncomfortable, and Felicia knew she had guessed correctly. ‘It is just that it is our custom for each girl to be accompanied by a man to watch over her safety,’ Nadia explained, ‘and in Faisal’s absence Raschid is very conscious of his responsibility towards you. Zahra and I are accustomed to the desert. You are not.’ Her smile softened the words. ‘Don’t worry, Felicia, we shall take care of you, but try to understand….’
‘To understand what? That your uncle considers me an unwanted nuisance? I understand that already.’
Nadia bit her lip, her eyes clouded. ‘Forgive me, Felicia, but this hostility you feel towards Raschid—could it be that you use it to mask other—very different emotions?’
One look at Nadia’s face told her that the older girl had guessed the truth. Pride made her grasp at any straw, however frail, to conceal her feelings.
‘If you mean love, I consider that any woman who fell in love with your uncle would need to be either a fool or a masochist!’
Felicia saw with relief that Nadia was staring at her in stunned surprise, but it was several seconds before she realised why. When Nadia continued to stare over her shoulder, the hairs at the back of her neck began to prickle warningly, and she swung round just in time to see Raschid’s coldly furious expression as he strode past the door.
‘Do you think he heard me?’
Nadia recovered her voice, nodding her head commiseratingly. ‘I’m so sorry. I never heard him until it was too late.’
Felicia shrugged, trying to tell herself that it did not matter; another stone on the wall separating herself and Raschid was hardly likely to make much difference one way or the other.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she assured Nadia. ‘After all, he’s never made any pretence of liking me. In fact I’m sure he’s feeling exceptionally pleased with the results of his eavesdropping. He’ll be more positive than ever now that I’m everything he thought, and worse!’
‘Let me explain to him,’ Nadia suggested, but Felicia shook her head decisively. What was there to explain? That Nadia had accused her of being in love with him, and in order to defend herself she had claimed that no woman could be? He would know she was lying.
‘What’s the point? Let him think what he likes.’
‘It’s all my fault,’ Nadia admitted apologetically. ‘I shouldn’t have teased you in the first place. I am sorry.’
When Nadia had gone Felicia stared at her clothes hanging in the wardrobe. Soon it would be empty. They would not be staying at the oasis much longer, and once Faisal’s letter reached Raschid, she would have to face the day of reckoning. If only she did not have to apply to Faisal’s family in order to get home! She was not left with even that shred of pride intact.
AS ACHMED HAD foretold, Raschid lost no time in announcing that if the girls were intent on accompanying them, they would have to present themselves in the outer courtyard at first light.
That had been last night, and now, pulling on her jeans in the pearly light of the false dawn, Felicia rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Below, in the courtyard, she could hear sounds of activity. Tiredly she brushed her hair, securing it with a ribbon. Following Nadia’s advice she added a thick, chunky sweater to the absolute necessities Raschid had limited them to—a change of underwear, a clean blouse, some soft woollen socks to wear inside Nadia’s boots, and a pair of sunglasses.
She could see a couple of menservants loading things into the two Land Rovers parked below. Nadia had invited her to travel with herself and Achmed, and Felicia had accepted. It would be less wearing on her fragile nervous system than riding with Raschid.
Breakfast had been set out for them in one of the salons, although Felicia’s stomach rebelled at the thought of yoghurt and dates before the sun had crept over the horizon.
Zayad gave them all a sticky kiss as they prepared to leave, then went docilely to his nurse.
‘He’s so good, isn’t he?’ Felicia marvelled.
‘Kuwaiti children are accustomed to being obedient, Miss Gordon,’ Raschid said crisply from behind her. ‘Unlike in the West.’
It was an unjust accusation, and hot words of rebuttal trembled on her lips, to be swallowed when she reflected that any ill-feeling between Raschid and herself was bound to spoil the enjoyment of the others. Heroically she merely gave him a polite little smile, and pushed back her chair intending to follow Nadia.
The first rays of the sun crept over the horizon, glinting on the large oval brass dish on a small table, and Felicia, her attention momentarily diverted, felt the blood freeze in her veins. In the dish lay half a dozen envelopes; the top one an airmail letter, very obviously addressed in Faisal’s hand and bearing Raschid’s name.
Her hand crept to her throat, she longed to reach out and pluck the letter away before it could ruin her last precious memories, but Nadia was urging her through the door and she had perforce to follow.
The morning air rang with the bustle of their departure, the strident cries of the falcons drawing Felicia’s attention.
Until Nadia had mentioned it she had not realised that Raschid trained the falcons himself when he could spare the time. Even hooded, their cruel beaks and curving talons made her shudder, striking a chill right through her; the birds’ scarlet jesses were blood-coloured in the early morning sun.
The bird nearest to her let out a shrill cry and flapped its wings. The servant holding it grinned.
‘Very good falcon, this one. He is named Sahud.’
Felicia raised her hand to touch the bird’s tawny feathers, and instantly her fingers were seized in a crushing grip. ‘Don’t touch him!’
Both Zahra and Nadia looked round to see whom Raschid was addressing with such controlled fury, and Felicia’s face burned beneath the open amusement of the saggar holding the falcon.
‘Those birds cost upwards of two thousand pounds apiece, Miss Gordon,’ Raschid said crushingly. ‘They are trained to attack and maim anything that moves—and that includes those pretty fingers you were fluttering about in front of him.’
There was a large lump in her throat. She wanted to make a furious retort, to tell him that she thought the saggar had been inviting her to stroke the bird, but pride prevented