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‘Today.’
‘Today?’ she exclaimed in soaring disbelief.
‘My father does not trust me enough to allow me to return to the palace without immediate proof that I have changed my ways,’ Raj told her grimly. ‘This marriage will provide that proof. He brought the palace imam here with him.’
‘We’re getting married here...now?’ she prompted incredulously. ‘What on earth am I going to wear?’
‘My father leaves nothing to chance. I would suspect that his wife has brought appropriate clothing for you.’
‘Which wife?’ she prompted curiously.
‘He only has one wife still living. My mother died when I was nine and her predecessor died about ten years ago. The Queen, his first wife, is called Ayshah,’ Raj proffered. ‘She is pleasant enough.’
Zoe breathed in deep and slow. She was going to marry Raj and make a go of her life all on her own. She would stay in Maraban for several months and there would be no more panic attacks. She would pick up some of the language, learn the history and find out about her grandmother’s culture. It would be an adventure, a glorious adventure, she told herself firmly while watching Raj stand by the doorway, quite unconscious of her appraisal. He smiled with sudden brilliance. And gorgeous wasn’t quite a strong enough word for him at that moment...
CHAPTER FOUR
‘MY FATHER TELLS me that the King is arranging a state wedding to take place in two weeks’ time and for that you can wear a Western wedding gown,’ Farida informed Zoe in a discreet whisper. ‘The King wants to make the most of your entry into the family.’
Apprehensive enough about the wedding about to take place, Zoe could have done without the news that there was to be a second, which would be a public spectacle. Such an event lay so far outside her comfort zone that even thinking about it made her feel dizzy. But she squashed that sensation. Baby steps, she told herself soothingly. She would cope by dealing with one thing at a time, and fretting about the future would only wind her up. Right at that moment it was sufficient to accept that she was about to legally marry a man she had only met for the first time that day.
Marrying Raj’s uncle, however, she would have been doing the same, she reminded herself wryly, and at least Raj came without previous attachments such as wives, children and grandchildren. Yes, she had definitely dodged a bullet in not marrying Hakem. Raj was single and refreshingly honest. He had admitted that he had once suffered panic attacks too. He had even admitted to defying his father over the woman he loved and subsequently discovering that she had cheated on him, which must have been a huge disillusionment. Most men that Zoe came across would have concealed such unhappy and revealing facts. That Raj had been so frank had impressed her.
Surrounded by fussing tribeswomen presided over by the elderly Queen Ayshah, who sat in the corner, entirely dressed in black, barking out instructions, Zoe studied her reflection in the tall mirror. She was so heavily clothed in layers and jewellery that she was amazed she could move. A beaten gold headdress covered her brow, a veil covering most of her hair, weighty gold earrings dangling from her ears, hung there by thread. She had very narrowly sidestepped having her ear lobes pierced there and then and she had Farida to thank for tactfully suggesting thread be used to attach the earrings instead. More primitive gold necklaces clanked and shifted round her neck with every movement while rich and elaborate henna swirls adorned her hands and her feet. What remained of her was enveloped in a white kaftan covered in richly beaded and colourful embroidery. Below that were several gossamer-fine silk layers, all of which rejoiced in buttons running down the back. Getting undressed again promised to be a challenge, she thought ruefully.
She had insisted on doing her own make-up though, having run her eyes over her companions, already festooned in their glad rags and best jewellery for the wedding, their faces over-rouged, their eyelids bright blue. Only Farida had gone for the subtle approach. Zoe had used more cosmetics than she normally did and had gone heavy on the eye liner when urged to do so but at least there was nothing theatrical about the end result.
‘My wedding celebrations lasted a week,’ Farida told her.
‘A week?’ Zoe gasped.
‘But yours will only last the afternoon. The King does not wish to spend the night here. The state wedding celebration parties will go on longer, I expect,’ Omar’s wife chattered. ‘Everyone loves these events because they get to see family and friends, but this has been arranged so quickly that it is a very small and quiet wedding—but the jewellery Raj has given you is magnificent.’
‘What jewellery?’ Zoe whispered.
‘Everything you’re wearing comes from the royal house. Traditionally, the jewellery is your wedding gift.’
‘The King must’ve brought that with him as well,’ Zoe muttered.
‘Yes, you were getting married today whether you wanted to or not!’ Farida laughed. ‘But who could say no to Raj?’
Zoe could feel her face heat and was grateful when the sound of music outside the tent sent all the women to the doorway. She followed them and glanced out to see some sort of ceremonial dance being performed with much waving of swords and cracking of whips. Men leapt over the campfire, competing in feats of daring that made her flinch and at one point close her eyes. A moment later, she was ushered out in an excited procession into another larger tent filled with people. She was led up to the front where a venerable older man appeared to bestow some sort of blessing on her and gave a long speech before handing her a ring. Farida showed her which finger to put it on. In the middle of the speech, she finally glimpsed Raj, resplendent in a sapphire-blue silk tunic, tied with a sash, his lean, darkly handsome features very serious. She tried and failed to catch his eye.
Another, even older man spoke more briefly and then moved forward to flourish a pen over a long piece of parchment, which he duly signed. In fact, several people signed the parchment and then she in turn was urged forward to sign as well, before being led away again without a word or a look exchanged with Raj.
‘And now we party!’ Farida whispered teasingly in her ear.
‘You mean...that’s it done? We’re married now?’ Zoe exclaimed in wonderment.
‘As soon as you signed the marriage contract, it was done. I would’ve translated for you but I didn’t want to risk offending the King by speaking during the ceremony,’ the lithe brunette confided. ‘You are now the Crown Princess of Maraban.’
‘And I don’t feel the slightest bit different!’ Zoe confided with amusement, reckoning that her grandfather would be sorry to have missed the ceremony but she assumed he would be attending the state wedding, which was to follow. Her sisters would have to come as well and she smiled at the prospect as Farida guided her into yet another tent full of chattering women where music was starting up in the background.
Introduction after introduction was made and plate after plate of food was brought. There were no men present. Farida explained that the reception after the state wedding would not be segregated but that rural weddings were of a more conservative ilk. Zoe sipped mint tea and watched the festivities as the dancing began. Married, she kept on thinking; she couldn’t
believe it. But she wasn’t really married, she reminded herself wryly, not truly married because she and Raj were not going to live together as a married couple. She wondered how he was feeling. Was he wishing she were his ex-love, who had let him down? Or did the significance of the actual marriage escape him because he was not in love with his bride? Or, more likely, was he simply happy that he was back in Maraban and accepted by his father again?
At one point, Zoe drifted off in spite of the noise and liveliness surrounding her and wakened only when Farida discreetly pressed her hand. She blinked in bemusement, for an instant not even knowing where she was. Darkness had fallen beyond the tent and it was quieter now, only a couple of women dancing, the rest gathered in chattering groups. Slowly her brain fell back into step and she suppressed a sigh, murmuring an apology to Farida for her drowsiness.
‘Your body is probably still working on ridding you of the sleeping drug you were given at the palace. Our doctor said it would be a couple of days before you fully recovered from that. I am so sorry that that happened to you,’ the other woman said sincerely.
‘You were involved in it against your will...not your responsibility,’ Zoe pointed out gently.
‘And sadly, the instigator will only be celebrating the reality that he has regained his son,’ Farida murmured ruefully.
The last piece of the puzzle fell into place for Zoe and her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she finally appreciated that only Raj’s father could have had her kidnapped and remained safe from punishment of any kind. That was why Raj had remained silent about the identity of the perpetrator; that was why he had seemed to feel partially responsible for her ordeal. Clearly the King had been determined to prevent his brother, Hakem, from marrying her.
‘It is time for you to retire,’ Farida told her, reacting to a signal from Queen Ayshah, who raised her hand and gave her a meaningful look.
