The Sheik and the Slave (31 page)

We wait to hear from you, sir
…

Your servant,

Abdullah dropped the letter onto the table and leaned back
in the chair, sucking the air into his chest. Everything went black as he tried
to focus. Allah!
Oh Allah the merciful, have mercy on me,
he spoke to
himself. All was lost. All was lost.

She had a son. The witch had a son.

Chapter
21

Mohammed scratched his beard, which had been unattended and
allowed to grow longer that he desired. He stared out into the setting sun and
pondered the past several weeks.

He could not place his finger on it, and he had no proof,
but there was something not right with Abdullah
’
s
behavior. He had always served him faithfully, and he could not complain.
Though he knew it might be irrational, he did not want Abdullah involved in his
current plans. Things had been steadily getting worse, and instead of finding
Katharine and bringing her back to where she belonged, by his side, Mohammed
felt things were slipping from his grasp. So he summoned Daleel to his
presence.

“
My
lord,
”
Daleel
addressed Mohammed.

Mohammed had summoned him alone and made certain that there
were no ears or eyes in the room as he spoke. Daleel had always been
trustworthy and, though he was a religious man who revered Allah, he had not
been frightened of his growing love for Katharine. Indeed, he recalled that
Daleel had thought she was beautiful, educated, and would do well in Arabia.

“
I
require your assistance, Daleel.
”

“
My
lord,
”
he said as he
bowed slightly.

“
I
wish to return to England immediately,
”
Mohammed spoke quietly, eyeing Daleel.

“
As
you wish,
”
Daleel
replied.

“
I
want you to arrange the travel for me as soon as possible,
”
Mohammed continued.

Again Daleel bowed, but his brow furrowed.

“
Is
there something wrong?
”
Mohammed asked.

“
No,
my lord. But I had thought Abdullah was handling all the arrangements, and I
had not heard that you were going back to England so soon.
”

Mohammed studied him and turned his back.

“
Yes,
you are correct. But I have changed my mind. And, there is more that I need
from you,
”
he
continued.

Daleel arched an eyebrow and looked around the room. No
servants were to be seen and the room was eerily quiet. He waited silently for
Mohammed to continue.

Mohammed turned to him and advanced upon him quickly. He
stood directly before Daleel.

“
What
are your thoughts about Lady Katharine?
”
he asked.

“
My
lord?
”
he asked. His
confusion was plain in his voice and on his face.

“
Lady
Katharine. Your thoughts on her.
”

“
I-I
don
’
t know the lady
well enough to speak.
”

Mohammed smiled. He was the supreme politician-in-training.

“
No,
Daleel. You do not know her. But you know that she is a foreigner and that I
wish to marry her. So what I ask is this: how do you think she will do in
Arabia as my wife?
”

Daleel cleared his throat.

“
Will
the Lady Katharine convert to Islam?
”
he asked.

“
We
have not discussed it.
”

Daleel looked away and then spoke.

“
The
Qur
’
an allows a
Muslim man to marry a Christian woman provided she believes,
”
Daleel said. Mohammed
nodded and Daleel continued.

“
The
Qur
’
an states
‘
Do not marry women who
associate others with Allah until they believe. A slave woman who believes is
better than one who associates others with Allah even though she allures you.
’”
But if she believes,
then she will be accepted. And because you love her, the people will come to
love her. But it will take time.
”

Mohammed smiled.

“
You
give me hope,
”
he
said to Daleel.

“
There
is always hope, Inshallah,
”
Daleel replied. He bowed slightly and then smiled back.

Mohammed laughed and it felt wonderful. He felt wonderful.
Things were looking well.

He clasped Daleel on the back.

“
Make
the arrangements,
”
he said. Daleel bowed and turned to leave.
“
There
is one thing more, Daleel.
”

Daleel smiled and turned to his master.

“
Under
penalty of death, tell no one of my plans. And I mean not a single, living,
soul.
”
His words
rang out cold.

Daleel
’
s
eyes widened.

“
Yes
my lord. It shall be as you say.
”

Mohammed sighed. A weight had been lifted off him. There
would be progress, finally.

***

Katharine lay in the small bed and studied her son. She
never tired of looking at him and she always seemed to discover something new.

The sea blue of his eyes sometimes changed color, and his
hair was brown, but sometimes lighter in the sunlight. His limbs were so chubby
and healthy.

She delighted in him. She adored him and her heart swelled
as she watched him squirm next to her.

She wanted very much to give Mohammed a daughter and her son
a sister. Her heart tugged. She had already spoken to Abigail to make the
arrangements to return to England. Now that she was recovering, she need not
stay in Ireland any longer. She had spent too much time away from her home and
family, who were probably frantic over her disappearance.

No one at home knew of her little son. She realized that
everything had changed. Mohammed was a father, and her parents were now
grandparents.

She kissed his chubby cheek and smiled down at him.

“
You
and I will go back to England and you will meet your grandparents,
”
she told him. He cooed
and she smiled again.

“
And
you will meet your father,
”
she added.

***

Safiya watched her uncle pull his robe down and leave her
room. She felt more disgusted than ever at the acts they performed. He took her
whenever he wanted and no one stopped him.

Mohammed had never glanced at her again after that first
night, and she knew he was in love with the mysterious white woman that had
been whispered about. She could not compete with her and the hold she had on
his heart.

She was pregnant with her uncle
’
s child and the thought disgusted her. She
moved to the wash bin and rinsed out her mouth. She could still taste the sticky
sour bitterness of her uncle
’
s
seed in her mouth. She hated him.

She sank to the floor, crying. What would happen to her now?
What could she do?

She wanted to cut ties with her uncle but knew it was
impossible. As she didn
’
t
have Mohammed
’
s
support, she knew no one would take her word over an older man that he was
taking advantage of her sexually. She had run out of options.

She packed a small bag in the early morning. She took only a
few clothes, some water and food to last for a few days.

She would join her mother
’
s
people, who might be willing to help her. She knew that the life she had
dreamed of was no longer possible. She would be willing to make this change
knowing that her uncle would never touch her again. She set out into the desert
by foot.

***

Abdullah had thought long and hard over the one-paged note
that contained his ruin and surely Mohammed
’
s
downfall from Islam as well.

It was clear he must never know about this bastard brat that
the witch had birthed.

How were they even sure that the brat was Mohammed
’
s? Surely the witch had
spread her legs many times, and this was just an attempt to get the riches of
Arabia for herself and her little bastard.

He would have none of it.

He muttered a quiet prayer under his breath. He would save
Mohammed from himself. He was bewitched, but Abdullah would do what must be
done to save them all.

He set the sheet of paper aflame watched as it caught fire.
The words
“
My dear
sir
”
curled and
turned to ashes.

Abdullah sighed and settled into his chair. He knew he must
think. The young girl was pregnant and, though Mohammed was not taken with her,
it was beginning.

He would drive the witch from his master
’
s mind soon enough.
Indeed, now that he had burned the letter and Mohammed was here and the witch
was in Ireland, he would never know about his son.

He chuckled lightly. He would surely have the last laugh
once Mohammed married Safiya and she gave birth to a Muslim son.

***

The air was cool and the wind hit Mohammed squarely in the
face. While everyone else settled down below to avoid the winds whipping around
the ship, he remained on the upper deck.

Daleel had kept his word and never told a soul. How he had
managed, Mohammed never asked, but he had booked passage for him in record
time.

After being stagnant for so long, he was finally moving. The
winds picked up again and he looked across the vast ocean with a thrill in his
heart. His robes fanned out behind him and he smiled.

He was returning once again to England, and this time it was
to bring home his wife.

***

Abdullah had not survived this long as an accomplished
courtier to both Mohammed and his esteemed father by relying on fate. No. He
relied upon his wits, and fate usually followed. It would do so again.

The white witch seemed to have the very gods of hell on her
side. She was a Shayatin in female form.

But nonetheless, he would make certain that her reunion, if
it ever came about with Mohammed, was a very unhappy one.

Dear Madame -

He wrote to the Abbess in a letter that was wholly fiction
and partly made-up lies that were all designed to rip the white witch and
Mohammed apart forever.

We received your letter regarding the Lady Katharine and
are pleased to hear that she is well. However, Princess Safiya has recently
announced her pregnancy and the Sheik is making arrangements for the birth of
his legitimate firstborn son to his wife. A son.
–
Inshallah.

The more Abdullah wrote, the more he realized that he was
forever inching away as a true trusted advisor of Mohammed
’
s. Yet, he knew it was
the right thing to do. He had tried to erase the witch from their lives, but
had not succeeded.

Maybe he must rely on the witch herself, to become so angry
at Mohammed
’
s
supposed infidelity that she would be unable to forgive him.

The Qur
’
an
was on his side. He was firm in his belief. There could be no misunderstanding.
Non-believers and Infidels must be slayed. There could be no in-between.
Mohammed was infatuated with the woman, and Abdullah would make it his goal to
separate them. He had never seen such an obscene display of male obsession as
Mohammed was with the woman.

Even Mohammed
’
s
father, who had kept a well-stocked harem and utilized the women at great
length, had always known his duty and had never strayed from it.

After all, women had their place and all knew it. Women
’
s lot was to bear
children, preferably sons, be obedient, and keep a devoutly religious home.

Abdullah shook his head and set the quill pen down. How
could he have prevented this?

No, he could not have prevented this. It had become an
obsession almost from the time the witch was brought to the palace.

There was a time when she had rebuked the sheik
’
s advances and he had
demoted her to a lowly bath servant. But Mohammed was a man used to getting
what he wanted. She had played right into his arms. He had only wanted her more
after that.

Once the white witch had succumbed to the sheik, both had
started down a path of damnation that threatened to ruin them all.

He tried to reason with himself. He had tried to rectify the
matter and change the course they were on. He had brought in the mercenary Jean
Baptiste to take her away, but it had failed. He sighed. He had tried. Yes, he
had tried. He closed his eyes and felt the tears of frustration. No! It was not
over yet.

He would not let the bastard that she had birthed become the
next sheik. It was impossible. He would not let it happen. He took up the pen
once more. His hand shook as he continued writing the lies.

The wedding is being planned and is a great event as it
joins two great families. The bloodlines will be ensured once the child is born
to the Sheik.

Peace and blessings be upon you.

Your servant

He swallowed and felt a knot in his throat. His first
instinct was to crumple the paper in his fist. But he took a breath, placed his
quill pen on the desk, and looked over the note. His clean, fine penmanship was
dark against the light-colored paper.

No. He must not waiver. He must be firm in his belief. He
would send it out tomorrow.

He knew in his heart that this path he had started down
would end badly. But he was willing to die for his belief rather than watch an
infidel sit beside the sheik with her bastard son.

***

Katharine had packed up her meager belongings into a small
trunk that the Abbess had kindly given her. She looked down at her son, who was
sleeping sweetly on the small bed.

She had no notion of how far off course they had come nor
how much farther they had to go to make it back home, but it was time. She knew
she had left much chaos behind her, but it was not of her doing or choosing.

She closed her eyes and saw the hills and green grass along
her family
’
s
property. She missed her mother and her father and longed for them to meet
their grandson.

She looked at her baby and felt herself start to cry when
she thought of Mohammed. She missed him so much. She wanted to feel his arms
around her and feel the heat and sand of Arabia. She wanted him to meet his
son.

She moved the trunk to the door just as a knock sounded.

“
Yes?
”
she asked.

Abigail moved into the room and stood next to the bed,
looking down at the sleeping child.

“
The
stagecoach is here,
”
she told Kat.

Katharine took her hands in hers.

“
How
can I ever thank you?
”
she asked.

“
Nonsense,
my dear. You are safe, and your son is healthy. That is all that matters,
”
Abigail told her.

Katharine leaned in and kissed the older woman on her cheek.

“
Thank
you. For everything,
”
Katharine said.

Abigail touched the young woman
’
s cheek and then stood up quickly.

“
Let
us be away. We have a long journey ahead of us.
”

Abigail had graciously agreed to accompany Katharine and her
son back to England, while the novices would follow on behind them.

“
Yes.
The journey is a long one,
”
Katharine said. She began to reach for her son, but then turned quickly to the
Abbess.

“
Abigail,
I
’
m worried. My
family. What will they think? I am worried they will be ashamed of me. That
they will not be able to forgive this transgression.
”

“
No,
my dear. You are wrong. You are their daughter. They will love you and your
son. And, there is still time to set things right. All is not lost.
”

“
You
mean to marry him?
”

“
Yes.
You are not lost to them, nor to God. God is watching over you, my dear. It
will all be settled. You will see.
”

“
He
never responded to your letter,
”
Katharine said. She looked concerned as she made eye contact with Abigail.

“
My
dear girl. That letter was sent to Arabia. So many things could have happened
to that letter. He may have been looking for you this entire time and be beside
himself because you have disappeared. You will never know until you see him and
talk to him.
”

“
You
are right,
”
Katharine agreed. She clasped her hands in her hands and smiled.
“
Let us away.
”

The two women collected their belongings and, with the babe
wrapped up tightly in his blankets, they boarded the stagecoach bound for the
coast.

Chapter
22

The stagecoach swayed gently as Abigail and Katharine took
turns watching after the child. The trip from Kilkenny to England was nothing
compared to the trip from England to Arabia. However, Katharine was overcome
with anxiety and was worried about the reception she would receive from her
family.

She was certain her father would be pleased and overjoyed to
see her after all this time. However, she wondered at her mother
’
s response and had no
thoughts at all on what they would think about her son.

Being an unmarried woman with a child did happen, but usually
not to women of her rank. As a Lady, she had been expected to marry well and
produce children. She had not married at all, and now had a son. She wondered
if her mother would acknowledge her son or if she would be ostracized. It
preyed on her mind.

Abigail was kindness itself as they journeyed closer to
England. As a religious woman, she reminded Katharine that God would forgive
her, and that once she was married, everything would be well. She spoke often
of God
’
s love, and
she was a great comfort to Katharine as the stagecoach continued on its path.

***

Lord Edward was intrigued as he read the letter from the
chief magistrate of the Bow Street Runners. Katharine had been traced to the
mercenary Jean Baptiste, who had been seen by the young groom on his property.
Interestingly, though Mohammed
’
s
advisor had told him that she had been sent to Arabia, the Runners had found no
evidence of that.

The Bow Street Runners also noted, as Mohammed had, that
Jean Baptiste had been murdered. But the disturbing fact the Runners learned
was that the last man to have made contact with Jean Baptiste had been an Arab
man. One barmaid and several patrons of the inn had sworn that they had seen a
man dressed in dark Arab garb visit the mercenary, and that man was the last person
to have seen him alive.

The conclusion was made that the Arab man had killed Jean
Baptiste. The Arab who had killed him was described as large and bulky, with
dark eyes and hair and a hooknose.

Lord Edward placed the lengthy letter on his desk. Though
his daughter
’
s
whereabouts were still unknown, the death of the one who had kidnapped her
appeared to have been solved. Would Mohammed know who the murderer was?

***

Katharine chewed on her lip, eyeing the landscape as it
passed by.
This is home,
she thought. England, with its beautiful,
rainy, cloudy, green, lush landscape was home. She smiled as she looked out the
window and then back again to Abigail, who was quietly snoring. Her son was
asleep in her arms.

She placed a hand over her stomacher and tried to quell the
butterflies that danced in her belly. She had come so far, but this time she
was not returning as the innocent daughter. This time, she had borne a child
out of wedlock.

She looked over at her son. No matter her faults, she would
not allow her child to be abused or mistreated in any way. If her family would
not accept her son, she would have to make her own way in the world. She didn
’
t know how she would do
that, but she would have to try.

The stagecoach swayed slightly and she heard the gravel
under the horses
’
hooves. That signified the beginning of the Willow Manor drive. She closed her
eyes and willed herself not to tremble.

She lightly woke Abigail, who arranged her long robes as the
little child lay asleep. The stagecoach settled in front of the house, while
the footman, Peter, whom she had known much of her life, stepped up to the
stagecoach.

 Abigail reached across the stagecoach and squeezed
Katharine
’
s hand.

“
Courage,
my dear,
”
she said.

Peter opened the stagecoach door and gaped in surprise when
he saw the young mistress
’
face.

“
Lady
Kat!
”
he exclaimed.

Katharine smiled, dazzling the man.

“
Hello,
Peter,
”
she replied.

“
Welcome
home,
”
he said,
smiling as he helped her step out, followed by Abigail and the small child.

Their large trunks were placed on the gravel drive before
the coachman went to take care of the horses from their journey. Peter took the
trunks inside.

Katharine and Abigail stepped in the foyer and they
exchanged a glance.

“
I
will let Lord Edward know that you are come,
”
Peter spoke quickly before disappearing.

 
“
I
am no different,
”
Katharine said.
“
I
return home with my child, but I am no different.
”

“
Of
course you aren
’
t,
my dear. And they will love you as they have always done.
”

Peter returned and escorted the women and child into the
sitting room.

Edward was turned away from the fire and stared in awe as
they entered the room.

“
My
own dearest, dearest girl,
”
he said as he opened his arms and Katharine came into them with tears in her
eyes. He kissed the top of her as he held her tightly.
“
We have been so worried since your
disappearance. I
’
m
so glad that you are returned to us safely, Katharine.
”

He held her at arms
’
length, inspecting her as she brushed away her tears.

“
Father,
it was awful. An awful man kidnapped me. He tried to assault me but he did not
succeed. This woman saved me. She is Mother Superior at the Abbey in London.
”

She felt the tears on her cheeks and motioned to Abigail.

“
I
am in your debt, Madame,
”
he said as his eyes met Abigail
’
s.

“
Please
call me Abigail,
”
she said. She fingered her cross and smiled kindly.

“
Father,
she also saved
…
she
also saved my son,
”
Katharine said hesitantly.

Lord Edward swung around to look into the older woman
’
s arms and saw the small
child in them. He was sleeping, but even in the firelight the man could see the
honey-colored skin and dark hair. He knew instantly that the child was Mohammed
’
s.

Lord Edward moved toward his grandson and caressed his small
cheek.

“
My
grandson,
”
he said
proudly.

He moved back to Katharine and rang a bell. Their longtime
butler Mr. Horton joined them, and Edward instructed him to prepare a room for
Abigail and to ready Katharine
’
s
room. He also requested that accommodations be made for the baby in the old
nursery.