Devil's Daughter by Catherine Coulter
“How else?” the earl said, smiling. “On her sailboat, of course. She tripped on the dock. Still, I nearly had to tie her down to keep her from coming with me.”
Adam laughed, and lightly squeezed Rayna’s hand. “So that is what I have to look forward to? Tying you down to keep you safe and sound? I fear, Father, that my little dove has finally shown herself to be a hawk.”
Lella said to Hamil, “Do you wish me to leave, my love, so I will not be influenced to rebellion?”
“I will simply keep your belly filled with child and your mind filled with me.”
Kamal flinched. God, how he wished for the dinner to end. He felt like a wounded animal and wanted only to skulk away and tend his pain in private. He felt himself go pale when Hamil raised his wine goblet and said, “Although my esteemed brother has returned his throne to me, I vow that he will not suffer. He has gained a woman who, if he treats her as a man must a willful wife, will bring him great happiness. Keep her on her knees, my brother, but I warn you to keep your mistresses a secret from her, else she’ll bring you low.”
Kamal uncoiled his powerful body and rose. He looked toward the earl. “Lady Arabella will leave on the morrow with her father. She will return to the life to which she was raised.”
He heard Arabella’s cry, but did not turn toward her. He strode from the chamber.
“My dear,” Lella said, grasping Arabella’s wrist. “You must give him time.”
“No.”
“Arabella,” the earl said, “leave it be.”
She turned pained eyes to her father. “You knew, did you not? You knew that he no longer wanted me.”
She rose clumsily and rushed from the chamber, heedless of the babble of voices behind her. She paused in the palace garden and breathed in the clean evening air. He was being noble, damn him, she thought. She leaned over the wall and saw Kamal striding away from the palace, down the winding road to the fort.
The fragile leather slippers were not made for running, but Arabella ignored the sharp rocks and dashed after him. The soldiers made no move to stop her. “Kamal.”
She saw him pause as if struck. He turned slowly. “Go back, Arabella. I have no wish to see you again.”
“Then talk to me, you coward. Do not run from me.”
“Very well,” he said, and waited for her to reach him. She was before him, her silken hair over her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch her, but he stood stiffly, saying nothing.
“I don’t understand,” Arabella said. “What have I done to displease you?”
He stepped back as she reached out her hands to him. “You have done nothing.”
“Then why are you behaving like this? I thought that you would be pleased. Hamil is returned; you are free. You are free to be with me.”
“No,” he said. “I am not free.”
“You speak in riddles, Kamal. Please, tell me what troubles you.”
He drew a deep breath, knowing that she would continue to argue with him if he told her the truth. She could not understand his shame, his dishonor. In a very calm, emotionless voice he said, “I much enjoyed my time with you, my lady. But it is over.”
Arabella stared at him. “You cannot mean it,” she said at last. “You make it sound as though I was naught but a diversion to relieve your boredom.”
“What else?” He turned away from her to look out over the Mediterranean, shimmering under the white moon.
“No.”
“I enjoyed taking your virginity, but your skills do not compare with those of my other women.”
“Why are you saying these things? I love you.”
“It will pass,” he said.
“But you told me you loved me.”
“A man will say many things when he desires a woman in his bed. But remember what those words gave me. A willing, yielding woman. I vowed I would break you to my hand, and I succeeded. You are now no different from my other women, spiritless and docile, and utterly submissive.”
She slapped him with all her strength. His head snapped back with the force of her blow, but his arms remained rigidly at his sides.
Arabella whirled about and raced back up the road to the palace.
Kamal watched her fleeing from him, fleeing from his life. Slowly, as if in a dream, he turned and continued to walk stiffly toward the fort.
Chapter 29
Villa Parese, Genoa, 1803
Arabella hiked up her skirts and stepped from her sailboat onto the dock. The day was warm and the old muslin dress, more gray than blue from many washings, clung damply to her back. She felt tendrils of hair curling haphazardly about her face, and impatiently tucked them behind her ears. Her mother would tease her about catching no trout for their dinner, but she hadn’t so much as lowered her fishing pole into the waters. Why wouldn’t the pain go away? Is this what she had to look forward to? The crushing emptiness that gave her no peace?
Two months. Two months since she had returned to Genoa, to the Villa Parese. It seemed more like a decade. At least she no longer had to smile and play the role of the happy sister. Adam and Rayna had been married a month before and were now sailing in the Aegean on their wedding trip. Rayna’s parents had shortly thereafter returned to England. How odd it had felt to watch Viscount Delford with her mother, knowing now what had really happened. To believe that if her own father had not stolen her mother away, she could have been the viscount’s daughter. What would it be like, she wondered, to have a man love you so much that he would abduct you from under your fiancé’s nose?
She turned and stared down at her reflection in the placid water. She looked thin and drawn, her mouth a straight line with no laughter in her eyes. She felt drawn to the water for a long moment, until she realized the direction of her thoughts and drew up sharply.
“Do not be a damned spineless coward,” she said aloud. She hurled her fishing pole into the water and watched her face dim into rippling waves.
She and her parents would be returning to England in the early fall. Hundreds of miles away from Kamal. Alessandro. Were he in England with her, he would be Alexander. She pressed her fists to her temples, wanting to blot his face from her mind, but his Viking’s blue eyes saw into her, understanding her as no man had ever understood her. Yet he had not wanted her.
She felt suddenly small and defeated, empty as a husk tossed aside by a careless hand. Surprisingly, Arabella felt tears sting her eyes. She had shed no tears since that awful night in Oran. Indeed, she had felt numb, mouthing good-byes to Hamil and Lella, numb as the Cassandra sailed from Oran’s harbor. Oddly enough, upon their return to the Villa Parese, her home had felt alien to her; it was Oran that seemed real.
She shook herself, forcing herself to think of Kamal’s harem. That had certainly been real. And Elena, far more experienced and skilled than she was. Did Kamal still take her to his bed? Did he take a different woman to his bed each night?
“You savage. You barbarian.” She shook her fist over the silent lake.
“I am pleased that I am still in your thoughts, Arabella, even though you insult me.”
Dear God. She wanted him so badly that she even dreamed of him speaking to her.
“How long will you ignore me, Arabella?”
Slowly she turned. Kamal, dressed as finely as any European gentleman, stood on the end of the dock.
“You cannot be real,” she whispered, half covering her eyes with her hand.
As he strode toward her, she took a shaky step backward. She heard him shout as her foot came down into empty air. She gave a cry as she fell backward.
Kamal caught her and pulled her back onto the dock. “I have saved you from a soaking,” he said. “Will that gain me something other than curses?”
“You are truly here,” Arabella said.
“Yes,” he said.
“You look so very fine.”
“I thank you, my lady.” He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling down at her, and gave her a bow. “Did you believe the savage barbari
“I was thinking of you bedding other women. Elena—your harem.”
“Elena is now wed to a Turkish captain. As for the other women, I seem to have lost my taste for them. The only woman I want is a stubborn hellion who makes me want to thrash her one moment and love her the next, until we are both exhausted with pleasure.”
“Oh.”
“I was not expecting you to still appear so slender. Indeed, you are too thin.”
Arabella cocked her head to one side. “You believed I would stuff myself with food without you?”
“No, but our babe—” He broke off suddenly, realizing that the earl had used his honor against him. He grinned, then threw back his head and laughed deeply, “You, my love, are about as pregnant as I am.”
“You came,” she said dully, “only because you thought I carried your child?”
He grew immediately serious, and said quietly, “That I believed you pregnant gave me the excuse to come to you.”
“And now will you leave again?”
“I fear if I tried, your father would have me locked up. He has been concerned about you.”
“I am not unhappy,” Arabella said, “I want no man’s pity. You can take yourself back to Oran to your harem.”
“But I no longer maintain a harem. You now behold, Arabella, a simple man who owns three ships and little else, a man who indeed has very little to offer you. Not even a gentleman’s title.” He paused. She was as silent as a rock. “All right then. If you won’t speak to me, you might as well kiss me.”
He pulled her against him and lowered his head. She felt his mouth against hers. Ah, the feel of him, his scent, his sweet taste.
“If we continue,” he said, “our babe will quickly become a reality. Arabella, we must talk.”
“Yes,” she said, nearly beside herself. “Yes, we must talk.”
He smiled at her. “I will take care of your needs once we are married, and not before.”
The earl watched his daughter tug Kamal’s hand, leading him into the shelter of the forest. He smiled as he turned to walk back to the villa. He imagined that his son-in-law would do quite nicely in shipping. All in all, his mild deception had worked quite well.
“I will do whatever you wish, my lord,” Arabella said, and kissed Kamal’s nose.
“I do remember how pleasurable it is to gain your obedience.”
Arabella rubbed her cheek along his smooth jaw. “It has been two months, Kamal. It seemed like forever.”
“I know, for me also. I saw my mother, Arabella, in the convent in Sicily. She was very quiet, withdrawn. I almost wished to hear her cursing, vowing vengeance.”
“Have you finally forgiven yourself for what she did?”
“No, but perhaps, in time, my shame will dim. I love you, Arabella, but I was like a miserable animal in pain. I could not bear to have you witness my dishonor.”
“But I am a part of you. What you feel, I feel. You must promise me never again to lock me out.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ll try, Arabella. Now, your father and mother must wonder what we are doing. Are you certain you wish to wed me?”
“I will follow you back to Oran dressed in harem veils if you try to escape me.”
“And will you fall to your knees before me and kiss my boots?”
“Perhaps.”
“And you will allow me as many mistresses as I desire?”
“If I leave you the strength to pursue another woman, then it is myself I will blame.”
He laughed and hugged her to him.
“Kamal,” she said, “will you mind living in England? And in Italy, of course, unless Napoleon boots us out?”
He answered her in stilted, charmingly accented English. “If my lady will keep me warm during the long winters, I will contrive to be content. I will want to visit Oran, you know,” he continued, switching back to Italian.
“As will I. Kamal, I do not wish to uproot you from what you know. It would not be fair to you.”
He was silent for a moment. “It is odd,” he said finally, “but I felt uprooted when I returned to Oran as Bey. I suppose my knit breeches fit me better than my white trousers. There will be difficulties, Bella. Much will be new to me.”
“But we will share, Kamal. Everything. Has Hamil slipped back into his old ways?”
“He is a Muslim, Arabella, as is Lella. But I noticed that he showed little interest in his harem. He spends most of his time with his son. Incidentally, I met your mother. She is charming. You have much the look of her.”
“And here I thought she had had a boring courtship compared to mine.”
“Have you spoken to her about what you learned?”
“No. Father asked Adam and me not to.”
“Perhaps it is for the best. Your father, by the way, is pleased. Never will he have to pay more guineas for tribute. And since I will join him in shipping, we are likely to become quite rich.”
“All right.” She stared up at his beloved face. “We had best not stay here, else I will keep you in the woods until winter.”
“I do not know how you can be so slender with such appetites.”
“Only with you: a gentleman who is a Viking, a pirate, a highness, and a magnificent lover.”
“This gentleman,” Kamal said, stroking her jaw, “fully intends to plunder, pursue, and otherwise possess this lady until she has no thought of another.”
“Do you promise?”
“You have my pirate’s oath on it.”
Catherine Coulter, Devil's Daughter
(Series: Devil # 2)