A Canopy of Rose Leaves (15 page)

‘Poor darling! Never mind, it’s the very last windmill you’ll be throwing your bonnet over, for one thing because I won’t allow you to waste your talent on such a futile occupation, and for another, I’m scared stiff I may fumble the catch one of these days and I don’t like the thought of anyone else being on hand to field it for you—not Ian, not Reza, nor anybody who takes it into his head to want even the smallest part of you!’

There was a hint of mischief in the look she gave him. ‘Won’t allow?’ she queried, her voice trembling a little.

‘That’s right, won’t allow.’ She saw that he was completely serious and forbore to tease him any further. Was it possible that he still wasn’t completely sure of her? He took her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. ‘Darling, I meant to give you your head, to go very slowly and gently towards convincing you that I am the only man in the world for you.’

‘But I knew that the first time you kissed me!’ she told him.

‘No, Debbie, you didn’t. You were still hurting from Ian’s defection and perhaps a little worried that you weren’t hurting more. Any man would have done to help you break free of the past and I happened to be on hand. Even when I came for you at the Qashgai encampment you still weren’t sure that you could be completely happy with me.’

‘But I did know! We had our fortunes told at the Hafez tomb and I knew then that it had to be you for me. He said I was already known to the man who would possess my heart and that it was too late for me to draw back. Who else could that have been but you?’

‘I daresay Reza was hoping it was he,’ he said drily.

Deborah looked completely shattered.
‘Reza?
He couldn’t have done I He knew I wasn’t in the least bit in love with him!’

‘He wanted you all the same,’ he reminded her.

‘But I didn’t want
him
! Roger, you must believe me, I don’t want anything or anyone but you!’

He touched her cheek with a gentle hand. ‘Did I ever tell you what a kissable mouth you have?’

She nodded, her eyes wide, and pulled his hand away with her own. ‘I love you very much!’ she said.

‘Enough to marry me? I want you to think about it, Deborah, because I love you too much to let you go once you’re mine. I shan’t be an easy husband, and I may well ask for more from you than you want to give. I’ll ride roughshod over your feelings when I should consider you more, and expect you to keep up when I have no right to expect you to, but I shall always love you more than any other woman in the world. Will that be enough for you?’

‘Oh, Roger, it would be heaven to be with you for the rest of my life. You can try all you like to make it sound like a bed of nails, but it looks remarkably like a bed of roses to me!’ She took his hand again and kissed it, slowly and deliberately. ‘Don’t you know I’d only be half alive with anyone else?’

His answer made her gasp as he pulled her into the circle of his arms and kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her ache with love for him.

‘This is only the beginning,’ he said.

‘It’s ridiculous,’ he said at last, ‘that there is nowhere in Shiraz where I can be alone with you.’

‘Can’t we go to your place?’

‘It wouldn’t do. I’ll take you there as my wife. Don’t Maxine and David ever go out?’

Deborah smiled. ‘Not often. Not that they’d notice us being there, they wouldn’t care at all! But Toobi—’

‘Enough said,’ Roger sighed. ‘I refuse to do my courting under her critical eye!’

‘Toobi approves of you, so you don’t really have to worry. She thinks you’ll keep me in order and not let me fall into silly scrapes. She hasn’t much confidence in my ability to look after myself.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he told her.

But she was surprised that Toobi’s view of her future with Roger should seem so eminently satisfactory to her too. She had never thought she would tolerate anyone else making her decisions in life for her, but where Roger was concerned, she positively welcomed it.

‘Supposing,’ she said, testing the ground with extreme caution, ‘that I hadn’t given away my half of the shop—’

She knew without being told that he knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘Would I have allowed you to keep it?’ he finished for her. ‘No, my darling, I would not. I prefer to support my own wife.’

‘Yes, but you couldn’t object to my helping to support myself, could you?’

‘I’d object to brother Ian having any say in my wife’s future. That’s for me to worry about.’

Deborah chuckled, burying her face in his neck. ‘You sound as if you don’t believe we were equal partners any more than Reza did!’

‘Not entirely,’ he admitted. ‘Anne would have crowded you out sooner or later. You’d always have ended up being the junior partner in that outfit.’

‘You make it sound very undesirable,’ Deborah murmured. ‘But it would have been awful if you hadn’t wanted me. I kept telling myself that I would have to start a new life anyway and so it wouldn’t matter, but it felt very naked to have nothing at all between me and starvation.’

He gave her a curious look. ‘What were you intending to do if I hadn’t come running?’ he asked her.

‘I meant to ask your advice,’ she confided, ‘and then I would have thrown myself on your mercy. I thought you might keep me for a little while even if you didn’t marry me. Half a loaf would have been very much better than no bread at all.’

Roger was silent for a minute, then he said, ‘You’ve grown up, little Deborah,’ and he smiled his very sweetest smile.

‘But I’m not the perfection you sought, am I?’

‘You’re perfect enough for me! I’m going to be very proud of my wife—especially as she counted the world well lost for me! Oh, damn and blast, there’s someone coming! Don’t laugh woman, there must be somewhere where I can kiss you in peace!’ He clapped his hand to his head in sudden triumph. ‘I’ll take you to the Bagh-i-Khalilil
.
’

He helped her out of the jeep, keeping her hand firmly in his as they walked through the streets towards the garden he had in mind. It had been laid out by the father of the present owner, and the door stood open for any passer-by to enter and enjoy the flowers within. It was one of the most beautiful gardens Deborah had ever seen. She particularly liked the pretty little verandahed pavilion that Roger told her was typically Persian in style. The carved ceiling reminded her of Spain and the tooled leather of Morocco.

‘How lucky that we have it to ourselves,’ she said demurely, pausing to admire a vista that was lined with bougainvillaeas of every possible hue.

‘I’m glad you like it,’ Roger returned courteously. She hurried across a small bridge and stood on the other side looking back at him, her eyes full of her love for him.

‘These are my days of jasmine, roses and celebrations, and it’s you who have given them to me. What can I give you back in return?’

He joined her where she was standing and put an arm round her waist. ‘How about yourself?’ he suggested.

She nodded abstractedly. ‘I want that too,’ she said. ‘But if you can wait, I’d rather we were married first.’ She turned into his arms. ‘I want the gift to be complete and irrevocable. Do you mind?’

‘Still unsure?’ he asked her.

She shook her head. ‘I want to be yours more than anything in the world.’

‘Then we’ll wait, darling.’ His eyes glinted at her. ‘It won’t be for long because I intend to marry you as quickly as possible, here in Shiraz, just as soon as I can make the arrangements.’

Deborah opened her mouth to protest that her parents would want to be there to see their only daughter married, but she knew that they would expect her to be married in England and that Roger would not relish having Ian and Anne as guests at his wedding. ‘Yes, darling,’ she murmured.

His amusement made her feel shy of him. ‘Very biddable!’ he commented. ‘I wish I thought you’d always give in so gracefully to my suggestions for you!’

‘I want to please you. You do believe that, don’t you?’

He kissed her cheek. ‘Yes, I do. I want to please you too, that’s what loving is all about.’

He led her by the hand to a small arbour covered by a tiny yellow rose, known as Shower of Gold,-or Lady Banks’ rose, and seated her on the delicate wrought-iron bench within. When he shook the woody stem some of the petals fell on to her hair and he plucked a few of the roses and put them in her hand.

‘Oh, Roger,’ she exclaimed, ‘it’s exactly how Hafez said it would be I Do you remember quoting him to me?’

He threw some more petals over her, smiling.
‘And o’er her head the minstrel of the night shall fling a canopy of roses, score on score,’
he quoted, again. And he reached down to her and took her back into his arms.