Chapter 19

The sense that someone was watching her awoke Dorothy, and tensing, she tried to remember where she had placed her handbag before joining Jamila on the bed to read the book that she had chosen. The handbag was on the small table beside the bed, on a shelf beneath the lamp and within reach. Before she made a move for her weapon, she opened her eyes in time to see Quatre turn and leave. For a moment, Dorothy imagined how pathetic she must look in his eyes, substituting the child he had with another woman for the daughter she had lost. But turning carefully so not to wake Jamila, Dorothy didn't care what he thought. As she watched Jamila sleep, she knew that she cared about her the little girl had charmed her way into her heart, not because she was transferring the love she had stored for her own child.

Lifting the book, Dorothy frowned as she remembered her dismay when Jamila had chosen a book of an Arabic story with Arabic wording. Fortunately, Quatre had read the story to his daughter many times so Jamila ended up reading the book to Dorothy. She guessed that Jamila embellished the story a bit by the way she would look at her reaction on the pages where only a few symbols equated many words in Jamila's version of the story. Dorothy managed to keep from smiling with amusement because Jamila might be hurt thinking that Dorothy was laughing at her. By the time she finished the story, they were both sleepy; Jamila because she had been awake far past a normal bedtime and Dorothy because she was emotionally drained. She gave in when Jamila begged her to stay just a little longer because she was afraid of being alone although Dorothy knew that Rashid was in the outer room waiting for Hadya to return. Dorothy didn't want to leave anyway, and she was soon lulled asleep by Jamila's yawns and sighs.

With much regret for having been awakened from a peaceful sleep, Dorothy carefully moved so that she wouldn't awaken Jamila. Her hair was a mess, half still pinned up, the other half-tangled and hanging past her shoulders, jeweled hairpins barely clinging to the strands. After pulling the remaining pins from her hair, she collected others that had fallen out on the pillow, then placed them in a music box with a compartment that Jamila hadn't filled. Returning to the bed. She carefully removed the necklace from Jamila's neck where she had placed it earlier, and with no regret, she carefully laid it in the music box along with the earrings, then closed it. Dorothy had a vague memory of her father giving her mother the set. It had been an obligatory gift upon the anniversary of their marriage. Her mother had shown him false gratitude and he had accepted it with the grace of a man who had performed a duty satisfactorily. Her mother had never worn it, and Dorothy guessed her father didn't care. The only happiness Dorothy could attach to it was the joy in Jamila's eyes when she clasped the bracelet around her wrist. For Jamila it would always hold the memory of that moment, just as it would for Dorothy.

After assuring herself that Jamila would be safe and was comfortably settled in her bed, Dorothy leaned down to press her lips to her forehead before quietly heading to the door. Her feet hurt and her heels made too much noise when she walked, so she pulled off her sandals to walk in her bare feet. Entering into the next room, she saw that Hadya had returned and was lying on her bed, but she stirred enough to raise her head a bit, then sigh when she saw that it was Dorothy.

"Is she sleeping?"

"Some time ago," whispered Dorothy. "I must have fallen asleep."

"My brother checked on her," Hadya whispered back. She added, "He usually does because his room is next door."

Dorothy recognized a hint when she heard one and she didn't have to wonder why Hadya would give her such information. In her place, Dorothy would be sound asleep by now, but Hadya was either a very light sleeper or she was waiting for an opportunity. James probably had candles lit and soft music playing and was getting sleepy waiting for someone to keep him company.

"James must be wondering where I am," Dorothy told her. "I should return to our room before he starts to worry."

She was almost amused to hear Hadya sigh with exasperation. Then Hadya said, "My brother seemed very upset about something."

"Perhaps you should go talk to him." Dorothy turned and headed to the door, her smile hidden from Hadya. "Good night."

Hadya grumbled something that was definitely not a wish for happy dreams as Dorothy left the room. As she was quietly closing the door, she realized that she wasn't alone in the hall, and turning she saw Quatre standing at the entrance to his room. He seemed just as surprised to see her, and she wondered where he had been since leaving Jamila's room. Looking completely weary, he stood staring at her without speaking. She didn't know how he felt about she what she had told him, and while she expected anger, she now saw sadness in his eyes. Dorothy hoped it wasn't pity because she had not wanted pity from anyone.

She knew that she should go, but Dorothy didn't want to go back to James. With agents down the hall guarding Relena's room, he was probably safe enough. So she walked to Quatre to explain what she was doing there, but when she was standing close to him, she detected the faint odor of alcohol.

"You've been drinking." Dorothy didn't like thinking that she had been the cause of a lapse in following his religious practices.

"A glass or two of wine," he told her with a half smile. "There isn't much alcohol on L4. If there were, I probably wouldn't be standing here now."

"Is it because of what I told you?" she asked, fearing his answer.

"No, it is because of my selfish behavior." He reached out to sift his fingers through her tangled hair and she didn't move. "If I had been even just half a man, I wouldn't have let you go so easily."

She moved closer to him and reached up to loosen his tie. "We can't change the past, Quatre."

Quatre slid his arm around her waist and pulled her gently against him. "We're not going to waste the future, are we?"

Dorothy smiled up at him and pulled his head closer to hers, using the tie still around his neck. "At least not the next few hours."

He sighed and shook his head. "This isn't what I want."

She was close enough to him to know his body was sending different signals. "Then I guess I should be getting back to James."

Mention of his rival was enough to change his mind. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, but she didn't want the gentle kiss that would make her have thoughts that she didn't have a right to think. Parting her lips, she deepened the kiss when she still detected reluctance on his part, then moved her hands down to his chest where she worked the buttons open so she could touch his warm flesh.

Quatre raised his head. "I want more than this, Dorothy."

Pulling the shirt from his trousers, she leaned forward to kiss his neck as she slid her hands over the bared muscles of his chest, then around to his back. She stretched up to breathe into his ear, "You'll get more, but not here in the hall."

Before he had a chance to protest again, she reached over to grasp the doorknob and turn it. It wasn't locked, so the door opened easily, and she stepped away from Quatre to pass through the doorway into the dark room. Quatre waited in the doorway, leaning against it with his head hanging as he fought the battle she had lost in Barbados. His common sense was telling him to send her away while his body was overriding any prudent action. From the look on his face, she could not tell if he considered the battle won or lost when he stepped in and closed the door.

Turning so that he didn't see her triumphant smile, she headed toward the gigantic luxurious bed on the far side of the room. After tucking her handbag under a pillow where it would be easy to reach, she turned back just as Quatre reached the bed. He pulled her against her, and his kiss wasn't as gentle as it was needy, and since Dorothy had the same need gnawing at her insides, she didn't protest his rough hands or the kiss that left her dizzy from lack of breath. But when he released her, she pushed him on the bed.

He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as she pushed the flimsy straps of her gown over her shoulders, then tugged the garment down and over her hips until it fell in a puddle around her feet.

Quatre raised a brow as his eyes made the tour of her bare body. "Miss Dorothy, I was expecting a longer show."

He was obviously shocked that she hadn't been wearing anything under her gown. Smiling, she joined him on the bed, straddling him and pushing his open shirt over his shoulders. "I thought you liked it that way. After all, I was a proper girl before you put ideas into my head."

"I'm not sure I like the change." Yet the husky tone of his voice betrayed him.

When he reached out to touch her, she jerked down the shirt so that his arms were pinned down. "We'll do it my way." Dorothy didn't want him touching her tenderly, putting ideas in her head that would ultimately end in her feelings being hurt.

"Is this how it is with Sheffield?" She could hear the resentment in his voice and felt a twinge of guilt, but she realized they were better off if he didn't know the truth of her relationship with James Sheffield.

"Why should you care?" She ran her hands down his bare chest to the waistband of his trousers. "I'm with you now. I'll worry about Sheffield when I'm with him."

"I don't want to share you with him or any other man." His tone was jealous and possessive, and while Dorothy knew he couldn't belong to her, she felt primitive satisfaction in his desire to claim her.

"I don't belong to you, Quatre." She undid the fastenings of his trousers.

"I want you to belong to me."

Dorothy put her fingers to his lips. "That can never be, Quatre. You have a life here that I can never be a part of." She replaced her fingers with her lips and didn't give him a chance to argue, and she was able to distract him for quite some time.

But when their needs had been thoroughly satisfied and she thought that Quatre had fallen asleep, she was dismayed to hear his voice as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, intending to retrieve her gown and sandals.

"Stay with me, Dorothy."

There was nothing she wanted to do more, but she couldn't. "I have to get back to James." And she would probably make a fool of herself by admitting how much she still loved him despite everything that had happened.

"How is Sheffield going to feel about this?" demanded Quatre.

She shrugged and slipped on the gown. "He is rather open-minded."

Quatre propped up on an elbow to watch her. "I am not. I don't want to imagine you returning to sleep in his arms."

Dorothy reached under the pillow to grab her purse and the heavy weight of her gun reminded her why she had to return to James. "Save the speech for the one or two, three or four of the women or children you take as your wife or wives."

"Dorothy…"

"Good night, Quatre." Clutching her handbag, she snatched up her sandals from the floor and headed to the door. "You probably have a busy day tomorrow, so I suggest you get some sleep."

"I won't be able to sleep knowing you're going back to him."

She paused at the door and turned to look at him. Quatre was sitting up in bed watching her. Although she hadn't intended to hurt him so, she realized that he was feeling what she had bottled inside for the last four years, knowing that he had made a life with another woman.

Without replying, she opened the door and pushed through, but once she was in the hall, she leaned against the closed door for a moment to gather her thoughts. Leaving him had been more difficult than she thought it would be, so she realized that in many ways she wasn't any more experienced now than she had been five years ago despite her relationships. She just couldn't be with Quatre without her heart becoming involved. It had been so easy with James that she had convinced herself that she could have gratifying sex with Quatre without the emotional attachment. Dorothy would just have to avoid such encounters in the future.

Getting her bearings, she headed down the hall, and when she rounded the corner, the men guarding the private wing detained her. Either they didn't understand her explanation of falling asleep with Jamila or they pretended not to understand her language. Either way, she had to put up with their ill-concealed smirks and leers, and when one of them made a remark to the other, Dorothy didn't need to understand their language to know by his comrade's crude laughter that she had been grossly insulted. A low voice growled something to them in Arabic from the shadows, and she watched Rashid step into the light.

The men fell humbly silent although the damage had already been done. Dorothy knew how she must appear to them. By the following morning the gossip grapevine will have spread the news of her visit to Quatre Winner. Perhaps after hearing about her in terms that put their relationship in perspective, he would forget about his foolish notion about their future. Dorothy had not failed to notice that while they were together he hadn't mentioned anything about love or marriage. He would be expected to marry at least one of the young women dangled before him, so Dorothy could never be anything more to him than what she had been tonight, and she had too much self-respect to tolerate the debasement it involved. After everything that had happened to her, she still had some of the pride Duke Dermail and her father had drummed into her. For better or worse, she would always be Dorothy Catalonia, the last of the Romefeller royalty.

Although she did not speak to him, Rashid followed her to the corridor where she was staying, and then he stopped and bowed to her respectfully. She nodded to him and would have continued on her way but he spoke to detain her.

"Miss Dorothy, I hope you will give Master Quatre a chance to prove himself."

She looked at him. "I won't stand in the way of what he must do to help his people."

"I am less concerned about the people of this colony than I am about his future happiness. He has spent much of his life giving of himself unselfishly. I know that you became involved with him during a particularly selfish time of his life, a time that he deeply regrets. But his feelings for you, they are genuine."

She sighed as she met his dark gaze. "I hope that Quatre appreciates your loyalty, Rashid. You have always been a good friend to him."

"He is like a son to me. And like a father, I hope that his heart will not be broken any more than it already has."

Having nothing more to say, Dorothy turned and headed to her room, stopping to ask the agents guarding Relena's room if they had heard or seen anything unusual. When they mentioned Quatre's visit, Dorothy didn't even think before rapping on the door.

Several moments passed before a bleary-eyed Relena Darlian opened it. "What now?" She was holding together her dressing gown as she tried to focus.

"I would like to speak to Heero Yuy."

Relena blinked several times, and then stared mutely at Dorothy with wide eyes. Dorothy guessed that Relena had learned the truth and didn't know how to speak to her without thinking of what she had gone through. Dorothy was growing uncomfortable with the look that she was giving her when Relena was suddenly grabbed and pulled back into the room. As Heero took her place in the doorway, Dorothy noticed the Preventer guards were desperately trying to hide their smiles.

"Get in here." Heero stepped aside and Dorothy entered the room.

Relena was pacing, clenching her fists at her side, but when Heero closed the door, she whirled around to face Dorothy. "How could you keep something so important from me?"

Dorothy winced. "I wasn't aware that we were bosom pals."

"I was trying to be your friend! You shut me out! I could have given you emotional support."

"I didn't need any emotional support," Dorothy told Relena calmly. "I had everything under control."

Relena opened her mouth to speak but Heero cleared his throat and she quickly closed it.

Hoping to end Relena's tirade, Dorothy turned away from her to speak to Heero. "Weston and Davis told me that Quatre Winner was here tonight."

"Night is quickly turning to day," pointed out Relena. "And I haven't had much sleep at all."

Raising his brow, Heero asked, "And whose fault is that?"

Her face suddenly became dark pink and Relena pressed her lips together.

Dorothy focused her attention on Heero. "I suppose he wanted some corroboration of my story." She resented the fact that Quatre still didn't trust her.

"That would be prudent," said Heero with a shrug.

"Now who is being a prick?" asked Relena. She looked at Dorothy. "Quatre was understandably upset. I suppose he turned to us because we are his friends. He knows what friends are for."

Dorothy might have responded, but Heero said, "I can't really call you a prick, can I?"

"Would you like to sleep in the hall with Weston and Davis?" asked Relena, folding her arms over her chest.

"I might actually get some sleep out there."

Relena was glaring at Heero and Dorothy didn't want to get in the middle of a domestic dispute. "I should get back to James."

"You weren't with James?" asked Relena with a raised brow. "I don't suppose you were with Quatre Winner?"

"I thought we had already established the fact that Dorothy doesn't want to discuss her personal life with you."

Gritting her teeth, Relena walked to the door and opened it. "Good night, Mr. Yuy."

He shrugged as he passed through the door and Relena slammed it before he was even through the threshold. Then she turned back to Dorothy. "I've had some time to think about the reasons that you didn't tell me about Quatre. Although he is an insensitive son of a bitch, Heero seems to understand you better than anyone and he was able to convince me that your trust in me had no bearing in your decision."

Dorothy didn't want to have this conversation with Relena, but she had little choice. "I am sorry, but I have had no experience in close friendships, so I didn't know what I should share with you. I went to Barbados on a whim, and it changed my life. What would I have said to you? 'Oh, I went on vacation to Barbados, got a great tan, and by the way, I lost my virginity and was humiliated by the wealthiest man in the solar system.' I do have some pride, Relena. I certainly didn't want you to pity me."

"I understand." Relena sighed. "I still wish I could have been there for you when you needed someone, then maybe...maybe..." She didn't finish the sentence. For a moment she just stared at Dorothy in that particular way that gave her the uncomfortable feeling that Relena knew more about her than Dorothy knew about herself.

"I should get back to James."

"Are you sleeping with him?" asked Relena anxiously.

Dorothy was about to tell her that it was none of her business, then decided against it. "I'm wondering what kind of woman you think I am. I've already determined that Quatre's opinion of me couldn't be much lower since he thinks I can traipse from James' bed to his."

"Some of that is my fault," confessed Relena. "I gave him the impression that you and James are on the verge of heading down the aisle together."

"Gave him the impression?" Dorothy raised a brow.

"Don't give me that look! You remind me of Heero Yuy. No wonder the two of you are such good friends. So I told him that you two had picked up where you left off a few years ago and were probably going to get married. I didn't realize how things stood!"

"I think we're back where we started," Dorothy pointed out. "Whatever was between James Sheffield and me is over, has been for almost two years. As for what is between Quatre Winner and I, it can't go anywhere but where it's at. Now, if you have heard enough of my personal history, I would like to get some sleep."

Relena walked her to the door. "If you ever need to talk to someone, to get another perspective, I will be there for you."

Her tone made Dorothy feel uncomfortable again. She considered asking Relena outright what she was hiding, but opted to leave before Relena pried too deeply into her feelings. She might discover how hurt and lonely Dorothy actually felt, and Dorothy felt more comfortable like that than being smothered by Relena's good intentions.

When she stepped into the hall, she saw that Heero was already snoozing, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, so she silently moved past him after sharing a grin with Weston and Davis. The two Preventer agents were probably going to amuse their comrades with stories of their guard duty outside the door of the Vice Foreign Minister Darlian.

Dorothy quietly opened the door to the room she shared with James, and almost instantly her senses became alert that something was wrong. With the light from the door, she thought she saw two figures in the room. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her gun, and the two figures darted in what appeared to be opposite directions. She threw open the door, turned to the shadowy figure to the left that was moving rapidly against the walls.

"Stop or I'll shoot." Dorothy would rather have shot without the warning, but as a Preventer agent she knew she couldn't use unnecessary force. One figure stopped moving while the other seemed to have disappeared.

"What's going on?" Heero Yuy appeared in the doorway, a gun in his hand.

The light by the bed was flipped on, and James Sheffield sat up. "What...?"

Dorothy's gun was aimed at Hadya Winner whose face went from white with fear to dark red with embarrassment. Suppressing her sound of disgust, Dorothy turned in the opposite direction where she was sure she had seen another figure. Seeing no sign of another person, she realized that she must have mistaken Hadya's shadow for a person.

"What are you doing here?" Heero demanded of Hadya as Dorothy returned, tucking her gun in her handbag.

Hadya was speechless.

Dorothy glanced past her to James who was wearing a self-satisfied grin.

Heero grunted with annoyance and tucked the gun in the waistband of his pants. "How did you get in here?" he asked her. "The Preventers didn't see you pass by."

"Maybe they were sleeping," suggested James, which earned him a scathing glare from Heero Yuy.

Hadya finally found her voice. "The palace is riddled with secret passages, all leading from the presidential suite, probably built to allow for an easy escape should the palace ever come under attack."

"Who knows about these passages?" asked Heero.

"Just the immediate family." Hadya was wringing her hands. "Am I in trouble?"

Heero ignored her questions and walked to where Dorothy was standing. "Well?"

"I thought I saw two people, but one must have been a shadow."

"Do you trust her?"

Dorothy looked from him to Hadya. The young woman looked completely mortified, and in her place, Dorothy would probably feel the same. She must have thought that Dorothy was going to stay with Quatre all night so she used the opportunity to act on an impulse. Dorothy certainly understood impulsive behavior, especially with men like James Sheffield.

"I don't think she's here for any nefarious purposes," Dorothy answered him.

"Maybe she should explain what she was planning to do," remarked James with a knowing smile at Hadya.

The latter's face turned an even darker shade of red.

Heero rolled his eyes, then asked Hadya. "Where is the passage?"

Probably glad for the distraction, she led him to the far wall where the shadow had disappeared earlier. Dorothy watched as Heero disappeared into the passage with Hadya, and then she turned to look at James. "Since when did you behave like such an ass? The poor young woman is embarrassed."

"The poor young woman was sneaking around in my room in the middle of the night when there is rumor of a plan to kill me." He frowned at Dorothy. "I don't need to guess where you were."

"Don't play jealous suitor. I already have one of those." Dorothy tossed aside her handbag just as Heero returned alone, closing the passage behind him.

"We shouldn't have to worry about that happening again," he remarked with a significant glance toward the ambassador.

Dorothy bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling about the sour look on James' face. He would just have to seduce Hadya Winner the hard way. "Was there any sign of another intruder?"

Heero reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade that he popped open, startling James into stepping back. "Do you consider this a sign? I didn't frisk this off of Hadya Winner either."

"She may have dropped it," suggested Dorothy although she didn't believe that Hadya Winner was making any attempt on James Sheffield's life. The startled look on James' face was amusing however.

Heero raised a brow, glanced from her to James then back before saying, "I suppose it is a distinct possibility." He sighed. "There won't be any more visits to this room without someone being seriously hurt. I set a booby trap on my way back."

She guessed that it involved plastic explosives but she didn't ask. Dorothy walked him to the door, then stepped into the hall when he nodded in that direction. Once in the hall, he said, "You realize that our assailant could have been Quatre Winner."

She almost laughed at his absurd suggestion. "Quatre isn't a killer. He has no reason..."

"He has reason enough," stated Heero cryptically with a significant glance at her disheveled appearance.

Dorothy was still thinking about his remark when she re-entered the suite where James had already returned to his bed. Ignoring him, she headed to the bathroom where she removed her gown and climbed into the shower where she let the hot water pound down on her until it quickly became cold and she was rudely reminded of the lack of amenities on L4. She refused to believe that Quatre would come to her room with a switchblade. Did he plan on threatening James? Was he behind the rumored plot to derail negotiations with L3? The idea was laughable.

Pulling on a bathrobe, she returned to the bedroom, found her handbag and gun, as well as a spare blanket and pillow, then settled on the semi-comfortable couch across the room from the bed. She thought that if she ignored James who was sitting up in bed with a file in his hand that he put down when she entered the room, that maybe he wouldn't speak to her.

"I take it from the night's events that telling Quatre Winner the truth didn't turn out to be as shattering as you expected."

Dorothy turned on her side to face away from him. "I'm going to sleep, James."

"It's too bad you came back to the suite so soon," he remarked aloud.

Dorothy sat up to look across the room at him. "If I had been a few moments later, I may have stumbled across a couple of bloody bodies."

"There is that."

She plumped her pillow and laid her head upon it. "I believe that you have a meeting with Majid Al-Jazar tomorrow. I think you should get some sleep. He seems rather crafty."

"Not nearly as crafty as some women," he grumbled.

He shut off the light, and Dorothy stared into the darkness for several moments as she replayed what she had seen when she entered the room. Even if she could remotely consider Quatre a suspect, the shadowy figure had been too short to be him, which was why she had thought it was Hadya's shadow. She would keep her eyes open for anyone who might match that figure. As for now, she needed to get some sleep because she had told Jamila that she would have breakfast with her.

Quatre stepped out of the shower, toweled off, and after wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom and stopped short when he saw that his sister, Leila, Ahmed's wife, was lying out clothing on the bed.

Having heard the door open, she turned around to look at him, her brows drawn together in a frown. "You took a very long shower," she scolded him. "Didn't it get cold?"

Given the pleasant dream he was having about Dorothy Catalonia before he woke up, the shower was neither cold enough or long enough. After she had left, he stewed with such intense jealousy that he almost pursued her to drag her back to his room. He had a memory of having behaved in a similar manner in Barbados, and he was quite sure that Dorothy hadn't appreciated it. She had been adamant about returning to Sheffield, so Quatre would have to find a more conventional method of winning her away from him.

When he didn't answer his sister, she pursed her lips together and Quatre thought that she looked too much like his father in showing her disapproval.

"What do I have planned today?" he asked. Leila had taken charge of his household and the social agenda, and since she was on his back this early in the morning, he could assume that some event had been planned.

"A brunch with several prominent families," she told him, turning away and giving him some privacy to change into the clothing she had chosen for him. "You cannot afford to offend them as they were supporters of Hassan Barak, and you know that they must be drawn back into the fold or..."

"I don't need to be reminded of their destructive tendencies." The rich bastards would destroy the colony before giving up their power. Quatre would have to find some way to clip their wings.

"At least two of them have daughters old enough to marry, and I took the liberty of inviting a few other young woman with whom you are already acquainted."

Quatre pulled on the last of his clothing and turned to his sister. "Define 'old enough.'"

She frowned at him. "Old enough to have been offered by their fathers."

"I'm not interested in marrying another girl-woman like Sadirah Barak," he told her.

Leila met his gaze without waver. "Sadirah was an excellent mate. Beautiful, intelligent..."

"Mentally ill," he added. Leila knew the truth about what had happened on Earth except for what Heero had told him last night.

"Yes, well, if you had given her proper guidance instead of lamenting the loss of a woman you couldn't have, perhaps she would not have been driven to such an extreme."

Quatre found it difficult to listen to anyone defend Sadirah. "I believe she was broken by the time she came into my life."

"You made no attempt to fix her." His sister leveled her condemning gaze at him. "She needed someone other than her greedy father to guide her."

She needed intensive psychological therapy, but pointing that out to Leila was going to be a waste of time. Leila had been delighted when he married Sadirah because she had known her before the OZ occupation. His sister would never admit that Sadirah had been irreversibly damaged during the incarceration with her mother. Quatre imagined that she didn't want to believe the extent to which she had been abused.

"I had hoped to have breakfast with Jamila," he commented when an uncomfortable silence had fallen upon them.

"She had breakfast long ago."

Quatre glanced at the clock, and noting the time, he realized that he had risen later than usual. Then again, he had been rather exhausted. "Where is she now? I will say good-morning to her."

"You don't have time. Besides, I believe that she is in the garden, and that might mean anywhere as she loves to hide." Leila smiled. "We all adore Jamila even though she can be a handful."

That was hardly a Winner trait, he thought with his own wry smile. If he had never learned the truth, Quatre wondered if he would have been forever blind to her resemblance to Dorothy Catalonia. Now that he did know, he wondered how no one else could guess who her real mother was. Remembering how sorrowful she had been when she told him about the baby she had never held, Quatre knew there was going to be a very fine line between her joy and fury when Dorothy learned the truth. Heero might be wrong about her reaction, and while Quatre still wanted to tell her the truth now, they were all better off if he waited until Dorothy understood how important she was to him and the place he wanted for her in his life.

The brunch was unpleasant from start to finish. The men viewed him with distrust while the young women, of whom there were more than his sister had hinted, made shy, painful attempts to attract his attention. Fortunately Ahmed attended the brunch so Quatre had at least one ally in the room, but that benefit was almost upset by his sister who made sure he didn't have a moment when he wasn't confronted with either an immature teenage girl or an obviously calculating young woman. Not one of them lacked in beauty, but Quatre could only think of one woman as his wife and he would not let anything stand in the way of having her.

Finally Quatre managed to slip out onto the balcony to light a cigar, and as he smoked in blessed solitude, he heard faint voices that he recognized. Peering down across the garden, he noticed Jamila sitting with Dorothy who held several dolls on her lap. Hadya was not with them although Rashid stood several feet away watching with a faint smile as Jamila continued to introduce her dolls to Dorothy. Sadirah would have lost patience after the second doll, but Dorothy properly acknowledged each introduction as if they were at a formal social gathering.

Quatre glanced back into the salon to see that Leila was distracted, so he turned his attention to the problem of getting from there to where he wanted to be. The balcony was high enough that he would probably break his neck if he tried to go over the side. However, there was a rather stout tree branch nearby, so he tossed aside his cigar, hopped up on the balcony railing and leaped out and barely managed to grab the branch. The noise had alerted both Rashid and Dorothy, and while Rashid tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile, Dorothy was still frowning when he dropped from the tree a few feet away.

Jamila quickly turned around and she giggled when she realized where he had come from. Setting aside her doll, she dashed to him and he swung her up to kiss her cheeks. "Papa, are you climbing in the trees like a monkey?"

"More like a jackass," mumbled Dorothy.

Jamila looked at him. "What is a jackass?"

Quatre chuckled. "Apparently Miss Dorothy believes that I am one."

"A very foolish person," Dorothy answered her question. "Which your father is."

"I'm afraid Miss Dorothy is right," Quatre told his daughter. "What I did was quite dangerous, but I had to see you." He kissed Jamila again, but he looked at Dorothy over Jamila's head. "You have been entertaining Jamila?"

"I have been entertaining Miss Dorothy," Jamila corrected him. "We are going to have tea with my dolls later."

"I'm glad you are having fun."

Rashid stepped forward and cleared his throat. "I will take you back to your room, Missy Jamila."

Although she clearly didn't want to leave, Jamila didn't argue when Quatre set her back on the ground and she went to take Rashid's hand. Quatre watched them go before turning back to Dorothy and saw that her eyes were on him. Her speculative look was anything but arousing.

"What is on your mind?" he asked with a frown.

"I wondered how deeply patriotic you are to this colony."

"I will do what I must to rebuild the homes and lives of my people."

She raised a brow. "Are you aware of a plot to assassinate James Sheffield?"

"Are you asking if I have given my approval of such a plot, if it existed?" Quatre wasn't sure how he felt about her line of questioning. The last time she had done so she had been working for the Preventers. Given the fact that she had arrived with James Sheffield, she could very well be working for government of L3.

"No." She met his gaze. "I know that you would not. My question stands. Are you aware of a plot?"

"There was such a plot presented to me shortly before your arrival. However, I believe that I have thoroughly convinced all the parties involved that it would not be in the best interests of the colony to pursue a war with L3 simply because we are angry for their interference in our internal struggle." Quatre wasn't going to tell her that Majid Al-Jazar had been a key conspirator. After Quatre's refusal to give his consent to carry out the plan, Majid had threatened to carry it out on his own until Quatre informed him in terms that would probably shock even Dorothy Catalonia what would become of the Al-Jazar clan should he even make an attempt. Quatre had put his faith in the idealistic brother of the former president, and after negotiations today, he would see if that faith were justified.

Dorothy was frowning. "You are sure the plot has collapsed?"

"Absolutely." Majid knew that Quatre would carry out his threat if he did not obey.

After a moment of silent contemplation, she told him, "There was an intruder armed with a knife in our room last night."

"You were not harmed?" He took a step toward her, anxious to be certain she hadn't been attacked.

She smiled faintly. "You did not ask about James Sheffield."

Quatre would rather say he didn't care what became of the ambassador, but he said, "I would have heard by now if he had been assaulted." He reached out to touch her cheek and was encouraged when she didn't flinch away from him. "I'm more concerned about you, Dorothy." He slid his fingers into her hair and gently tugged her to him, raising her face to his. "I can't stop thinking about you."

She moved so that their bodies were touching. "Maybe you should choose a bride so that she can distract you."

He lowered his head so that his lips were just above hers. "You don't want that, Dorothy."

"No," she admitted, "But I am realistic."

"I thought you were a dreamer." When tears made her eyes glisten, he regretted the words he had chosen. Drawing her into his arms, he held her close as she struggled to regain her composure. There was nothing he could do to drive away the years of pain she had suffered alone without sharing her loss with anyone. He should have been there for her instead of allowing Hassan Barak to manipulate him.

Putting his hand under her chin, he raised her face to his. "Will you give me a chance to make you happy, Dorothy?"

She wasn't able to respond because a giggle interrupted what she might have said. They both turned to see Jamila standing with Hadya. "I forgot my dolls," she explained, her bright blue eyes twinkling with happiness going from him to Dorothy and back again.

"I must go," Dorothy said, her voice shaky. "I am having lunch with James." She moved away from Quatre, then stopped before Jamila. "I shall join you for tea at precisely four o'clock."

Jamila nodded. "I shall see you then." She watched Dorothy until she had disappeared into the building, then she hurried to Quatre. "Papa, are you going to make Miss Dorothy my mother?"

"Jamila!" Hadya's scolding was rather half-hearted.

Quatre was unsure how to answer her question when he couldn't predict what Dorothy might do. "I would like nothing better," he finally said and left it at that.

Jamila seemed ready to burst with happiness. "I would like nothing better either."

As she gathered her dolls together, Hadya came to stand by Quatre, but she didn't speak until Jamila had gone back inside with her collection. "You should not give Jamila false hope."

Quatre was about to inform Hadya of his intention of marrying Dorothy when a voice from above echoed her sentiment.

"Do not commit yourself where you do not have a right." Leila was standing on the balcony overlooking the garden.

"I have a right to decide with whom I will share my life," Quatre argued.

Leila disappeared from the balcony and he had little doubt that his sister was going to join him in the garden. Hadya shook her head as she sighed. "Our sister is angry now."

Quatre looked at her. "How well do you know Leila?"

"Only well enough to tell you that she is the most like our father. He seemed quite proud of her."

Hearing that was enough to convince Quatre that he was going to have difficulty in getting Leila to understand his feelings. He knew that he was right when she came out into the garden wearing a deep, disapproving frown.

"I hope that your stunt hasn't insulted anyone today. When I realized where you had gone, I explained that you hadn't seen your daughter today and wished to spend some time with her." Leila put her hands on her hips. "You seem to have little preference among the women..."

"I intend to marry Dorothy Catalonia."

Leila ignored him. "So Ahmed and I have chosen one of the young women."

"Without consulting me?" Quatre looked to Hadya for support, but she looked away. He suspected that she already knew of the plan.

"She has agreed to the arrangement, and negotiations with L3 will hinge upon the union."

"What do you mean by that?" Quatre felt the steel jaws of a trap closing on him.

"You will marry Yaminah Al-Jazar."

"I am not going to marry that child!"

"If you do not, the deal with L3 will fall through," stated Leila. "Because of your objection to her age, we have agreed to send your wife to attend a university on L3. When she has finished her education, she will be old enough to begin her married life with you."

"You would use my wife as a hostage?" Although Quatre didn't want to marry the girl, neither did he want to see her used as a political pawn.

"Hostage is a harsh word," spoke up Hadya. "Yaminah wishes to attend the university on L3, and if she were there, the government of that colony could consider her as their insurance that their colony would not be attacked."

"They do not want war with us and we do not want war with them," said Leila. "This is a way for both colonies to save face and go ahead with normal relations."

Quatre shook his head. "I do not want to marry Yaminah Al-Jazar. I want to marry Dorothy Catalonia."

"You cannot," Leila told him forcefully. "For once in your life do what is best for someone other than yourself! Your selfish rebellion brought OZ to our colony, and now you are whining like the spoiled brat that you are because you can't have the daughter of an OZ general? Do you think that our people will accept her? She will have to spend her life with you guarding her back, and even if you surround her with an army of bodyguards, someday, somebody with a grudge is going to sneak past all your security. How will you feel then? Marriage to Yaminah is the answer to all our problems."

Quatre refused to admit that she was right although Leila's argument had no flaw. "There must be another way."

"We will meet you in your office at four o'clock," she told him. "You will sign both the marriage contracts and the treaty with L3." Without waiting to hear any further argument, she turned and headed back into the palace.

"I'm sorry," Hadya said gently as she put her hand on his arm.

"I will find a way to make this work," he insisted.

"I wish I could help you."

An idea began to form in his mind as he turned his full attention to his sister. "Do you really mean that, Hadya?"

"Of course I do! You are my brother, and I would like to see you happy, especially after what you have been through. I know that you thought you were doing what was best for the colony by piloting that gundam. OZ would have come to our colony regardless of your actions, and I have come to realize that Dorothy Catalonia bears little resemblance to her bloodthirsty forebears."

Quatre was glad that she didn't know Dorothy several years ago. "I have made mistakes and so has she. I am hoping that we won't have to spend the rest of our lives trying to atone for them." He put his hands on Hadya's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I have a plan and it involves a great sacrifice on your part."