AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘You don’t have to see her. Such a person is beneath your notice.’
‘I would like to hear what she has to say for herself.’ Kirsten’s chin came up at a determined angle. ‘But I really don’t want her to enter our home.’
‘It will not be necessary for her to do so.’
Shahir escorted her to a large building situated nearest the entrance to the Ahmet complex. It housed the offices of the senior courtiers, the administrative block, and the reception rooms used for formal public occasions. When he would have accompanied her into a small audience hall, she informed him that she would prefer to see Pamela alone.
‘As you wish…then I will leave you.’
His formality offended her. She was on a high: her name had been cleared, her reputation cleansed, her innocence of theft proven. But Shahir, infuriatingly, was behaving as though someone had died.
As Kirsten passed by a tall gilded mirror, she realised what a staggering change Lady Pamela would now see in her. Her eloquent mouth quirked. Pearls glistened in her ears and round her throat. Her turquoise and pink wrap top, matching tiered skirt and fine pink leather pumps were the very latest in designer style.
Two of the élite palace guards were stationed in the hall where Pamela was waiting. Kirsten gave them a nod of dismissal. The brunette looked worn and tired, and her dress was badly creased.
‘Your Serene Highness…’ Pamela performed a low and very creditable curtsey without hesitation. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’
‘I just want to know why you did it.’
Pamela Anstruther fixed incredulous china-blue eyes on her. ‘Because Prince Shahir was in love with you, of course…why else?’
Kirsten was paralysed to the spot by that retort. ‘I beg your pardon?’
Pamela’s mouth took on a resentful curve. ‘I was mad for him too. I hated you for getting in the way.’
‘You were jealous?’
‘I saw the Prince with you twice—in the limo the day he offered you a lift, and the day I invited him for tea. The way he looked at you was really quite nauseating,’ the brunette contended with a bitter laugh. ‘He couldn’t hide it. You were just a farm girl, but I could practically hear the wedding bells ringing. It was like you had cast a spell on him—and yet you were so naive that you didn’t even see the power you had.’
‘If you disliked me so much why did you ask me to help you with the party preparations?’
Pamela heaved a weary sigh. ‘Right from the start I planned to have you accused of stealing. I wanted you out of the castle and away from him. But I didn’t want to harm you personally—’
‘Really?’ Kirsten cut in very dryly.
‘Really,’ Pamela insisted. ‘It was simply a case of needs must. I had no hope of getting anywhere with the Prince while you were around.’
‘So you decided to frame me for theft? You ensured that I found that brooch while Shahir was in the next room and that was your first step towards setting me up to be accused of stealing, wasn’t it?’
‘I’m not denying what I did. I bribed silly little Morag to lie and stick the pendant in your locker. But I had no luck, did I? You’re years younger than I am, and perfectly beautiful. Your Prince was obsessed with you and he married you all the same. And Morag got cold feet and dropped us both in it.’ Pamela Anstruther settled defiant blue eyes on Kirsten. ‘I’m ruined anyway. I’ll have to sell up and leave the glen. I can’t live there now that everyone knows what I did to you. I’m getting the cold shoulder everywhere.’
‘That’s not my fault.’
‘No, but do I really deserve to be dragged into court and prosecuted into the bargain? After all, it’s pretty obvious that Prince Shahir would have married you even if you had murdered someone!’ Pamela pointed out sourly. ‘I’m sorry I ever tangled with the pair of you. I’m sorry that I had you accused of something you didn’t do and that you lost your job. But I do feel the need to point out that it doesn’t seem to have harmed your social prospects much.’
Kirsten treated the other woman to a cool appraisal, and it took the self-discipline that Shahir had patiently taught her to prevent her from succumbing to an in appropriate desire to laugh. ‘I believe I’ve heard enough. Go back to the UK. I’ll think over what you’ve said, but I’m not making any promises.’
Without another word, her mind buzzing with feverish thoughts, Kirsten left the audience chamber and walked briskly back to the huge rambling palace that had been designated as her home and Shahir’s. A palace with in a palace, it rejoiced in its own high walls and the seclusion and the wonderful steam room she had enjoyed on her wedding day.
All Kirsten could really think about was Pamela’s unswerving conviction that Shahir loved his wife. She was also starting to appreciate why Shahir had been under so much strain when he had last spoken to her: he would be devastated by the realisation that he had misjudged her. He set himself such impossibly high standards and tore himself up over every error. Hadn’t she already learned that he was his own fiercest critic?
She heard her royal husband’s voice before she saw him. Wondering who he was talking to, she tiptoed over to the door of his study and peered in.
‘I blew it,’ Shahir was saying morosely. ‘I always blow it with her. I say the wrong thing…I do the wrong thing. How am I supposed to tell her that I didn’t really care if she was a thief any more? That doesn’t sound right, does it? It sounds crazy, but that’s how it was. I had stopped thinking about it.’
His confessor loosed a sympathetic sigh as his floppy ears were stroked. Short stubby tail wagging gently, the little dog curled up at Shahir’s feet and lay down to sleep.
‘You should be talking to me, not Squeak,’ Kirsten declared.
