Forbidden in Regency Society: The Governess and the Sheikh. Marguerite Kaye
ruthlessly, desperate to find a way to get through to the man she now realised was barricaded up inside a coat of armour forged from pain and suffering. ‘You told me that you wanted things to be different for Linah, too. You want a different life for your children, you’re even prepared to face the wrath of your Council to provide it, but can’t you see the place you need to start is with yourself? Jamil, your father was so wrong.’ Her eyes were wide with unshed tears. ‘To care is not a weakness, it’s a strength. To stand alone, to say you don’t need anyone, that’s simply a lie. Everyone needs someone to love, everyone needs someone to love them, don’t you see that?’
‘Your love for your poet—did that strengthen you or weaken you?’ Jamil asked coldly. It was a cruel remark, he knew that, but he was hurting.
Cassie flinched. ‘I did not love Augustus.’ Not at all, she realised suddenly. She had been in love with the idea of love only.
‘You told me yourself, the first time that we met, that what you felt was humiliation as a result of this so-called love.’
He was just lashing out, she knew that. This place held such awful memories for him, it would be a miracle if he did not. And what he said was true, after all, even if it was said to divert her. To divert him. Cassie laced her fingers together, then unlaced them. Then laced them again, frowning hard. ‘You’re right, I did feel humiliated,’ she admitted, ‘but not by being in love, by being so mistaken. I was humiliated and ashamed of my stupidity, my wilfulness.’
She stared at him hopelessly. An immense pity for the lonely boy he had been, for the solitary man he had been forced to become, washed over her. How to get through to him, she had no idea, especially since he seemed intent on preventing her. This was a pivotal moment, she felt it. If she did not make him see now, he never would. ‘You are missing out on so much by denying yourself.’
‘You cannot miss what you have never had,’ Jamil replied curtly. ‘In any case, I am not denying myself. I am protecting myself. And my kingdom.’
‘By refusing to allow yourself to feel! To love! Do you deny your people such things?’
‘Love! Why must you always bring that up? It doesn’t exist, save in those pathetic poems you are forever reading.’
Seeing his determinedly set face, Cassie almost despaired. His knuckles were white around the horse whip. A horse whip, for God’s sake. His father had trained him in the same way as he trained his thoroughbreds. A flash of rage gave her a surge of strength. She grabbed the riding crop from Jamil and, bending it over her knee, snapped it in two. ‘There! That is what I think of your father’s methods, and that is what I think of your stupid traditions,’ she declared, panting with the exertion. ‘Do you really want this thing to dictate your entire life?’ She threw it with all her might out into the desolate garden. ‘What he did to you was cruel. Disgustingly, horribly cruel, but he is dead now. You are your own man, not your father’s. He was wrong, Jamil, wrong. Allow yourself to feel, allow yourself to love, and you will see for yourself how happy it can make you.’
‘It did not make you happy,’ Jamil retorted pointedly.
‘Oh, why must you keep bringing Augustus into everything?’ Cassie exclaimed. ‘I’m beginning to feel as if I’ll never be rid of him.’ But at least Jamil was looking at her properly now. He was listening. Cassie took a deep breath. ‘When you love someone, really love someone, you can feel it here …’ she pressed a hand to her bosom ‘… or here.’ She touched her stomach. ‘I’ve never felt that, I admit it. Few people do, but when they do, they just know. That is the kind of love that makes you strong.’
‘That kind of love is a myth.’
‘No. No, it’s not. It’s just rare,’ Cassie said, surprising herself now, for it turned out she did believe in love after all. ‘But when you find it, as my sister Celia has, it is the greatest source of strength in the world. Far, far greater than the sword, or scimitar or whatever. It’s not that you depend upon someone, it’s that you have someone else to depend on. Oh, why can’t you see that?’
‘Perhaps I would give your little flights of fancy more credence if you spoke from a position of experience,’ Jamil replied. ‘But since you have already admitted that you do not.’ He shrugged.
Cassie gave a rather undignified squeal of frustration. ‘You don’t have to have experienced something to know it exists, believe it exists! In here!’ she exclaimed, pressing her hand to her breast.
Her face was flushed. Her bosom heaved with indignation. A long tress of fiery gold hair had come undone and lay over the white skin of her shoulder, where her dress had slipped. Her eyes sparkled a blue that put turquoises to shame. The maelstrom she had stirred up was suddenly too much for Jamil to cope with. Resorting to one of the few ways he knew of to express himself, he pulled her roughly into his arms, and silenced her in the age-old way, with a passionate, angry, famished kiss.
Cassie struggled only briefly, her hands flailing against his chest in an ineffectual attempt to free herself. It was a kiss meant to punish, she knew that, knew, too, that she had pushed him to his limit. It meant nothing, she told herself, nothing more than a show of strength, but still, the touch of his lips on hers, the lean length of his body held close, but not close enough to the soft yieldingness of hers, was beginning to work its magic. Cassie stopped struggling. Her body seemed to melt into his. Her lips parted. Her skin heated. Her heart began to pound.
It was over too quickly. With a hoarse cry, Jamil pushed her away, glaring at her as if it were her fault. As it was, Cassie could see quite clearly why he would think so. For long moments they simply stared at each other, breathing, lost in a tangled jungle of emotions, unsure about which path to take to regain solid ground. It was Jamil who broke the silence, his voice harsh, edged with something less certain that gave Cassie a tiny cause to hope.
‘I will not apologise for that, it was your own fault.
Once again, you dare to intrude on matters that do not concern you. You should not have entered here. I wish that you had not. This place.’
‘You should reclaim it. Banish the ghosts, take it back. Until you do, it’s like a dark secret, brooding away.’
‘This place,’ Jamil continued, ignoring her interruption, ‘is none of your business. I don’t want you coming here again and I certainly don’t want you bringing Linah here.’
‘Of course not. Jamil, you could make Linah so happy if you showed her just a little bit of affection. Loving her could make you happy.’
Jamil sighed heavily. ‘You just don’t give up, do you?’
Cassie took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. ‘It takes courage to change the habits of a lifetime, but courage is something you have in abundance.’
Jamil’s smile was twisted. ‘I’m not the only one. You have the courage of your convictions.’ He kissed her knuckles. ‘I’ll think about your suggestion.’
‘That’s all I ask.’
‘For the moment, at least,’ he said wryly. ‘Come, let us leave this place.’
Turning the key in the lock of the outer door, Jamil removed it and secreted it in his robes. Cassie watched him stride down the corridor, his tunic rippling in the slight breeze caused by his rapid gait. Poor, tortured Jamil. If he could but make a start by loving Linah, then maybe some day he would be capable of real love.
Why was that thought making her uncomfortable?
She had an absurd urge to run after him, missing him more with every step he took away from her, a premonition of a time when he would be gone from her for ever. She hadn’t thought about that until now. Until today. She didn’t want to think about it now.
It would have been naïve to expect that Jamil would be transformed overnight, but from that day on, Cassie did detect a marked difference in him. Awkwardly at first, but with increasing confidence as Linah responded, he began to allow his feelings for his daughter