Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lucky Mary
"Slow down!" Mary squealed. "Jamil, slow down!" Laughing, the Tudor princess squirmed in her seat as her wealthy fiancee made the last turn towards their small, stylish house in rural Wales. The truth was, Mary rather liked careening around the back roads in the beat up old motor car Jamil had bought on a lark.
"Don't you like to drive fast?" Jamil Khan was different in the country. Ever since Mary had agreed to marry him, the serious, success-oriented Pakistani billionaire had become more casual, more relaxed and playful. At the moment he was wearing faded blue jeans and a soft white linen shirt that fell open at the neck. When he looked at Mary in that boyishly naughty way of his, his big brown eyes made her think of hot chocolate, warm and sweet.
"I only like going fast with you," Mary said breathlessly. Her heart was still beating quite fast from the crazy ride up to the house. The two of them looked at each other, and then all at once Jamil leaned over and kissed her, very lightly and gently on the lips.
"Oh!" Mary didn't mind when Jamil kissed her on the cheek, to greet her in the morning or to say goodnight. Even his warm lips pressing very gently on hers for a moment or two was all right. But the moment she parted her lips he began to squeeze and paw, almost crushing her body against his. "Jamil, stop. Stop!"
"What's the matter?" Though he was still breathing hard, Jamil let her go at once. But his gentle brown eyes were full of hurt. "I wasn't going to hurt you, Mary. I promise I will never hurt you!"
"I trust you, Jamil. I do. I just . . I need more time!" Mary felt utterly mortified. Jamil had promised to let her have her own life, to be the person she wanted to be. But they were to be married in just a few weeks! How would they ever have children? How could Jamil go on loving her when she just couldn't love him back?
Just then there was a shrill ring from the house. A slim, striking young blonde in a frilly white apron stepped out the front door. Catching sight of the two of them, she smiled brightly and waved.
"Call for you, sir. Your father is ringing you up from London!"
"I'll take it in the study." Jamil wasn't angry at Mary. He helped her out of the car like a perfect gentleman, his firm hand just lightly supporting the small of her back. But he was all business, snapping back to the family's global empire in the wink of an eye.
"May I get you something, my lady?" Sally Weeks was still struggling with the royal etiquette, occasionally calling Mary "my lady" instead of "ma'am" or "Your Grace." But bright-eyed, energetic Sally managed the little country house surprisingly well, anticipating Mary's every need and cheerfully pitching in as maid, cook, butler, and secretary. She really was quite a delightful find.
"Yes, I need to freshen up. And I'd like a drink." Mary was still feeling flushed and overheated from that wild ride . . . and the humiliating scene inside the motor car. Sally took charge of getting her cleaned up and into fresh clothes, a pair of cool blue silk pajamas that allowed the Tudor princess to relax and be herself while she drank an afternoon cocktail in her private parlor.
"Mary? I'm sorry, darling. I'm afraid I have to abandon you in the country for a few days." Jamil Khan tapped politely on the parlor door, then entered the room with a very boyish and rueful smile.
"Huh?" Mary had been focused on something Sally was saying, some silly story about a duke in tight pants and how they split at the very moment he bent low to kiss the queen's hand. When she was feeling low Mary rather enjoyed a dose of Sally's outrageous humor. The solemn, reserved Tudor princess was laughing her head off, so that she hardly noticed when Jamil entered the parlor.
"Can I get you something to drink, sir?" Smart little Sally was up in an instant and headed towards the liquor cabinet, which she always kept fully stocked with every sort of drink you could desire. Jamil stopped her with a friendly jab on the shoulder.
"None of that, Sally! I'll need a clear head to get my father out of the mess he's made this time. It's all to do with building bigger and bigger hotels, and not thinking of the climate or the environment."
"The environment?" Mary felt a bit guilty, because she was really keen on helping scientists spread the word about climate change and global warming. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, you stay here and relax," Jamil replied, dropping a goodbye kiss on Mary's forehead before she could even rise from the sofa. "A few days in the country will give you time to think. I know what you mean about needing some more time, darling. Marriage is a big step."
"But Jamil, I want to . . ." Mary didn't even know what she wanted. She rose to her feet, a bit dizzy, but her patient, thoughtful, understanding future husband had already left the room.
"Now that's what I call a gentleman!" Sally exclaimed, going over to the row of bottles and immediately mixing a fresh drink for the two of them. While drinking, she patted the princess on the knee. "You've got it lucky here, Miss, and no mistake."
"Yes, I've got it lucky." Mary made a sour face as she drank her cocktail. It was good. But she couldn't help feeling that Sally's hand on her knee was far more exciting than Jamil's lips on hers.