The Sultan's Bride Read online

  By the second month things were better and the pair started to venture on deck for fresh air, Sarah had regretted coming at first but Peter’s excitement as they approached their foreign destination was contagious and she found herself looking forward to landing and the travel in front of them.

  Finding Hassan had been easy once they got into port and he quickly arranged a house for them to stay in while they were in town. He also offered to travel with the small party. ‘I usually have people in my employ to travel with the goods to ensure they reach their destination or to do the trading but I would be only too pleased to come with you.’

  Peter took his offer gladly, they had discussed back in England how the trip would proceed and Hassan had assured him that he would be only too glad to provide a guide and translator to help him find the people he needed to trade with. To have the man himself was a boost as Peter had come to get to know him while in England and trusted him.

  They set off after a few days, travelling to the west for textiles before heading east to look at the spice trade. Everywhere they went people were welcoming and Catherine in particular loved seeing all the new places and meeting new people. There weren’t many children her age from the people they met but she contented herself with learning about the areas and seeing the landscape that was so alien to her.

  All around her were patches of desert, the land was so dry but the people made their lives the only way they knew how and water was the resource in demand here where they took it for granted at home. It was a different way of life but Catherine took to it with great vigour to her mother’s horror.

  Sarah wanted Catherine to grow up to be a young lady and with Peter’s success they would have the finances behind it to give her a life they could have only dreamed of. Now she had a bit more freedom Catherine was more tomboyish than usual, it was common for her to finish the day covered in the light dust that was over everything and Sarah was forever washing her and everything else.

  When they weren’t staying in the homes of the people they were trading with or inns along the way, they camped in tents. Sarah hated it but was determined to grin and bear it. No one would hear a complaint from her lips she swore.

  ‘There is just one more place I would recommend we go,’ Hassan said towards the end of their travels. They had been to five regions, negotiating deals for different wares and he was as aware of Sarah’s patience running out as he was that the ship would be crammed full by the time they’d been to their last stop.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Peter asked enthusiastically. Mentally adding up what they would earn from this trip was exciting him, with this last stop the ship would be full and he would become a very wealthy man once the goods were sold.

  ‘Ajara,’ Hassan said, ‘It is a very rich land and the Sultan is an old acquaintance. I have to warn you my friend, life there is very different to what you are used to and even different to what you have seen so far.’

  ‘I think at this stage we can handle just about anything Hassan, if we are going to fill up this ship then we would be best to go, unless you’re warning against it?’

  Hassan shook his head. ‘No, the Sultan is a good man and very generous if you make friends with him. I think you will do well.’

  A few days later they were nearly there and Peter yawned. He felt like he had been travelling forever and was very glad that this was the last stop on his business trip before returning home to England. His business had done well out of the tour, the spice trade was looking to be very profitable and he had made many friends and allies that would stand him in good stead.

  He had enjoyed this trip, the people were warm and co-operative everywhere they went and he was confident of the future he would be able to give Sarah and Catherine. Hassan had hinted that morals were looser in Ajara. ‘It is a palace of many pleasures,’ he had said but Peter thought it was worth the risk to overlook whatever took place there.

  Ajara loomed, like an Oasis in the middle of the desert. The dust kicked up by the horses made him cough from time to time and he looked forward to reaching the palace where the Sultan awaited him and where he and his travelling party would be able to rest for a few days before the trek back to port and the sea voyage home.

  ‘Peter,’ a voice came from behind him. It was Sarah. During the trip she had grumbled to herself often about the constant dust and the heat but had also enjoyed seeing the sights of the east. There had been so many dignitaries to meet and that was the part of the trip she excelled at.

  ‘Yes?’ he answered. ‘How is Catherine?’ Catherine was seated on her father’s horse, propped against him and was fast asleep.

  ‘Sleeping my love,’ he answered, ‘This has been such a tiring journey for her. We’ll be at the palace soon and the Sultan will have rooms ready for us. Tonight we might even get to sleep in real beds.’

  Sarah grimaced, thinking of the nights spent in tents throughout their venture which had not been favoured by her. The thought of somewhere real to sleep did sound so good.

  Peter gently nudged Catherine and the girl slowly opened her eyes. ‘You’ll want to see this sweetheart. We’ll be going to see a Sultan in his palace.’ She sat up and the palace came closer with every step the horse took, it wasn’t much to look out from the outside but with the thought of getting out of the dust it was a glorious sight.

  As they approached they were greeted by a representative of the Sultan’s. ‘Hassan, Peter Stanton,’ he called out, ‘Please follow me, I will take you through to your rooms to clean up and rest before your meeting with the Sultan.’

  He was tall. Dark haired with lovely tanned skin, and very handsome features dressed in loose robes. Sarah blushed as his eyes met hers and a bemused smirk crossed his face before he turned to show them where they needed to go. His English was perfect, just slightly accented and she wondered briefly where he had learned it.

  The family followed obediently and through the gates the horses went, Peter lifted his daughter down and then helped his wife dismount from her horse. Entering the doors to the palace the family gasped, Catherine’s eyes were as wide as they had ever been at the opulence within.

  Gold filigree was everywhere and there were gems decorating the walls, glittering into the distance down the long corridors. This was clearly a very wealthy kingdom judging from the palace and while Peter could see the value in coming all the way here to do business, he was also enthralled by his daughter’s reaction.

  She reached out and ran her finger along the wall. ‘Feel it Papa, the wall is sparkly and bumpy,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘So it is my little princess,’ he said with a grin. Even Sarah’s face broke out into smile at the sight of her daughter’s enthusiasm. She had not smiled much on the trip, Peter hoped the combination of being out of the dust and staying somewhere so luxurious would make her happy.

  Catherine had taken in every sight with awe and both Peter and Sarah were glad her daughter was getting the opportunity to see another part of the world. She had spent most of the trip with adults and was bored a lot of the time. Sarah, having insisted on her continuing her reading and writing lessons had tried to keep her entertained but the little girl had been ready to go home for some time.

  This place was different though. They had seen a lot of settlements in their travels but this was nothing like any of the others. Sarah felt this was somewhere she could finally feel clean again, having had enough of sand and dust to last her a lifetime. Longing for a bathtub and a clean bed, this must be the place.

  Eventually they stopped after winding through several corridors. ‘This is your room,’ the man said, ‘There is a room next door for the little girl, with an adjoining door to your room so you can have some privacy.’

  He looked at Sarah. ‘I will arrange for a bath to be brought in, no doubt you are dusty from travelling and need to wash.’ Sarah went bright red and he dropped his eyes. ‘If there is anything else you need I will send a servant to take care of any needs you may have.’

/>   ‘We will be fine,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘I will also send some food to your rooms; dinner has already been taken by the Sultan. You will be summoned tomorrow to meet him and discuss business.’

  Peter nodded, and he left glancing again at Sarah, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on her. The bathtub arrived shortly afterwards and was filled with hot water by the servants and Catherine, protesting that she wanted to see more of the palace was stripped and put in first. ‘Somewhere under all that dirt is a young lady,’ said her mother as Catherine complained about being scrubbed. Her hair soaped and cleaned her mother brushed it until the dark curls shone while she dried and finally a clean nightgown was placed over her head.

  She made Peter get in next while she turned the beds down and sorted their night attire and clothes for the next day. There was a knock on the door and food appeared for them and while the others ate she climbed in the tub.

  Cleaning herself she closed her eyes and thought of the man who had shown them to their rooms. Something had stirred deep inside her and she had to suppress sighing at the thought of him touching her. It shocked her that she even thought about it, in the years she had been married to Peter, no other man had crossed her mind but this man had had an immediate effect on her.

  Instead she focussed on washing her hair and dressed, joining her family at the table. The food was a good selection of meats and bread with fruits for afterwards. It felt good for all of them to have a good meal, at a table after some very long days of travelling.

  Catherine was nearly asleep at the table and her father, smiling, lifted her gently and took her into the next room to sleep. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow and he kissed her gently on the forehead before leaving the room.

  ‘Fast asleep,’ he said, wrapping his arms around his wife and kissing the back of her neck.

  ‘She was so tired, Ajara for a few days will be good for all of us I think,’ she said, turning towards him.

  Reaching up, he stroked her face with the palm of his hand and she closed her eyes. ‘I am tired too my love, join me in bed?’

  She enjoyed sex with her husband sometimes, he was gentle and caring but after she had nearly died with Catherine’s birth it was not as enjoyable as it once had been and almost seemed an unnecessary evil that she must endure for him. Real moments of intimacy seemed few and far between. She had not seen the point in being intimate, there was no likelihood of a child at the end and wasn’t that was it was meant to be for? Tonight however, felt different.

  Peter put his arms around her, raising her nightgown and touching her. Instead of her body going stiff at his touch as it usually did, she relaxed and for the first time in a long time she wanted him to never stop. Closing her eyes she thought of the other man again and her mind wandered thinking of his hands on her, his teeth grazing her nipples, his fingers probing between her legs and she let herself go.

  ‘My love,’ Peter murmured, ‘You have never responded like this.’ He was clumsy and she realised that she needed to move to get the feeling she wanted. Her hips moved up to get his fingers to find the right spot and she was suddenly lost.

  Mounting her quickly he pushed into her and she pushed back. ‘Perhaps it is because you are tired and bathed you are so relaxed,’ he whispered, excitedly. ‘Oh Sarah,’ he cried as he spilled into her.

  He covered her face with kisses and pulled her nightgown back down. She lay still for a while, her eyes still closed before slowly opening them and kissing him back. ‘I love you Peter,’ she said softly.

  ‘I love you too sweetheart,’ he said before they drifted off to a deep sleep, making up for all the sleepless nights while travelling.

  Chapter 4

  They were woken next morning by Catherine, bounding onto the bed.

  ‘Did you sleep well Mama?’ she asked.

  ‘Very well,’ said Sarah, with a laugh. ‘What about you my darling?’

  ‘It was the best sleep I have ever had,’ she declared.

  Breakfast was brought in and the family dressed, ready to be summoned. It did not take long and the man had returned from the day before to Sarah’s embarrassment. He led them through more corridors until they arrived at the Sultan’s private rooms.

  Hassan waited outside for the family to arrive, ‘The Sultan is awaiting our presence, and he is in a very good mood and excited to meet you all.’ He leaned over and tickled Catherine under the chin. Catherine beamed.

  The big doors were opened and they found themselves standing in a large room. A meeting table was at one side with enough chairs to seat several people. There was a bed on the far side of the room, a large four poster with net curtains similar to the one in their own room but much bigger. It was clear the Sultan conducted both business and pleasure in this room.

  Standing in the middle of the room was a man of similar stature to their guide but even more handsome. Sarah wanted to melt into the floor when he looked at her with his dark, penetrating gaze.

  ‘Welcome to my kingdom,’ he said in perfect English. ‘Peter Stanton, it is good to meet you, I have heard so much about your business and I look forward to trading with you.’

  Peter smiled. ‘This is my wife, Sarah and our daughter Catherine.’

  The Sultan bent to Catherine and took her hand. ‘I have a son about your age; perhaps he could be your playmate while your father and I talk business.’ Catherine nodded happily as the Sultan sent for the Sultana and his son.

  ‘This must be Mrs Stanton,’ he continued, ‘I do hope you enjoy your stay in my palace, and that it provides you with comforts you must surely have been missing since you started your travels.’

  She smiled. ‘I am sure we will be very comfortable.’

  ‘I am pleased,’ he declared and the big doors opened again while a woman and a young boy were ushered in. ‘This is my Sultana, she will take you on a tour of the palace if it would please you,’ he said to Sarah.

  ‘I think I would like that very much’ she said, nodding.

  The two families studied each other closely. Sarah Stanton had long brown hair and big blue eyes. Her daughter had inherited her looks but where Sarah was attractive, Catherine would be stunning. Peter Stanton was tall and his daughter had inherited that height. Despite them being of a similar age she was noticeably taller than the boy who had been brought in. They smiled at each other shyly when they heard they were both eight.

  ‘This, Catherine Stanton is my son Arif, you two can more than likely get up to much mischief around the palace but I think you will like having someone to play with.’ Catherine nodded enthusiastically and smiled at the boy. He looked down and kicked his feet against each other.

  ‘Arif, one day you will be Sultan, you need to be more confident,’ his father said. The little boy burned red with embarrassment but Catherine, obviously the more outgoing of the two took his hand and he smiled at her, before leading the way out of the room.

  The Sultana led Sarah out the door to take their leave of the Sultan and Peter to somewhere where the children could play and the women could talk. The Sultan turned to Peter and Hassan. ‘Now, perhaps we can sit and discuss our business?’

  The women went along some more passageways before arriving in a small garden area. There was a table with some drinks and a large grassy area for the children to run around. Catherine squeezed her mother’s hand, astounded at the sight of so much grass in an area so dry. Sarah smiled down at her.

  Adults seated, the children soon overcame their shyness and were soon running and hiding behind the plants that were scattered throughout the garden. ‘This is just lovely,’ said Sarah.

  ‘There is a river not far north of here, we get our irrigation and water from there,’ said the Sultana, ‘There are settlements around that provide our crops from the same river.’

  Sarah smiled and watched her daughter dart across the grass, her shoes long since discarded and her dark hair streaming behind her. It had been tied up only minutes before and tidy. She
would have to comb that thoroughly tonight she thought. It did her heart good to see her little girl so happy; she and Arif were getting along so well that she happily agreed when they asked if he could give her his own tour of the palace.

  ‘My name is Irina,’ the Sultana said. Her English was almost as good as the others they’d encountered but she had a much thicker accent. She was beautiful Sarah thought, her large brown eyes framed by long lashes, her thick black hair wound up in a bun behind her head.

  ‘I am Sarah,’ she replied, ‘May I ask how you all speak such good English? Everyone else that we’ve met we’ve needed translators.’

  Irina looked at her and smiled. ‘My husband, the Sultan attended school in England for a while, I had hoped we would send Arif also but with him being our only son he will not be permitted to leave. The old Sultan had traded with a group of Englishman and it proved to be very profitable so he saw one of his sons learning the language an advantage.’

  ‘Such a shame Arif cannot do the same thing,’ Sarah said, watching servants moving throughout the area, in and out of doors into the palace. ‘My husband was the second born, the less important so he was allowed to leave Ajara for a time to study, when he became Sultan he felt it important that we all learn so we could continue to trade with the traders that travel through our lands. I suspect he also just liked the language. The servants don’t speak it generally but there are some in the palace that may help with translation.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘How many people live in this palace?’ she asked nervously, trying to make conversation. ‘I do not know the number but it is large’ said Irina, ‘There are a lot of rooms that you will never see with many servants. Then there is the harem.’

  Sarah went white, she had heard stories about harems but did not realise they were real. ‘The harem?’ she asked.

  ‘I am my husband’s first wife, there are others,’ Irina said, ‘I could provide him with only one child so every so often he takes a new wife to try for another, thus far he has been unsuccessful. I understand that is not the custom of your people.’