Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem Read Free Page B

reassuring to her. George, too, seemed uncomfortable with them, and stuck close to Bakri at the head of the train.
    This part of the desert was much rougher underfoot than Celia had anticipated—not really sand at all, more like hard dried mud covered with rock and dust—and it wasn’t flat either. After the first steep climb from the sea, the land continued to rise. In the distance she could see mountains, sharp and craggy, ochre against the startling blue of the sky, which was deepening to a velvety hue as the sun sank. The sense of space, of the desert unfolding for miles, beyond anything she could ever have imagined, was slightly intimidating. Compared to such vastness, she could not but be aware of her own insignificance. She was awestruck, and for a moment completely overwhelmed by the journey they had travelled and the task ahead of them in this land as shrouded in mystery as the people were shrouded in their robes.
    However, as the caravan made its way east over the desert plain and she became more accustomed to the terrain as well as to the undulating movement of the camel, Celia’s mood slowly lifted. She amused herself by picturing Cassie’s face when she read of her account of her ride on the ship of the desert, and revived her flagging optimism by reminding herself of the very high esteem in which George, as a diplomat, was held. This mission would be a success, and when it was, George would stop fretting about his career and turn his mind to making an equal success of his marriage. She was sure of it!
    They came to a halt in the shelter of an escarpment, the terracotta-coloured stone glittering with agates, as if it were chipped with diamonds. Above them, the sky was littered with a carpet of stars, not star-shaped at all, but huge round bursts of light. ‘You feel as if you could just reach out and touch them,’ Celia said to George, as they watched the men put up the tent.
    ‘I’d like to reach out and touch my four-poster just at the minute,’ George said sarcastically. ‘Doesn’t look like very luxurious accommodation, does it?’
    In truth, the tent did look more like a lean-to, for it had only three sides, with a curtain placed down the middle to form two rooms. The walls were woven from some sort of wool, Celia thought, feeling the rough texture between her fingers. ‘It must be goat’s hair, for I don’t think they have many sheep here. I’m pretty sure that was goat we had for dinner, too,’ she said. ‘You should have tried some, George, it was delicious.’
    ‘Barbaric manners—eating with their hands like that. I was surprised at you.’
    ‘It is their custom,’ she replied patiently. ‘You’re supposed to use the bread like a spoon. I simply copied what they did, as you must do if you are not to starve. Now, where shall I put this carpet for you?’
    ‘I’ll never sleep like this, with the guards snoring their heads off next door,’ George grumbled, but he allowed Celia to clear the rocks from a space large enough to accommodate him and very soon, despite his protestations, he was soundly asleep.
    Celia sat outside the tent, looking up at the stars for a long time. She was not in the least sleepy. Such a vast space this desert was. Such beauty even in its apparent barrenness. When it rained, Bakri said, it was a carpet of colour. She thought of all the little seeds sleeping just below the surface, ready to burst into life. Promise is a cloud; fulfilment is rain, Bakri had said.
    She was obviously expected to share the same room as George, but she couldn’t bear the idea of their first night together to be this night, even if her husband was fully dressed and already sleeping. Celia took her carpet and found herself a quiet spot a short distance away, tucked up behind a large boulder. ‘Promise is a cloud; fulfilment is rain,’ she murmured to herself. Perhaps that was how she should think of her marriage. Not barren, just waiting for the rain. She fell asleep wondering