THE WARLORD'S DAUGHTER
CHAPTER 2
Maysam awaited Henri Ducard in the living room of her suite. She stood near the broad sliding glass door leading to the balcony, staring out into the night, her blood still racing from her conversation with Melisande. For a short time, she had heard her daughter banging on their adjoining door, shouting to be set free, but the protest did not last long; Melisande would know her mother was resolute in this matter, determined to save her from her father's wrath.
Maysam hoped Ducard would come to her directly and not be held up by anything. Though Siddig would be occupied by an evening spent with his brothers in honor of Amir's visit, Maysam wanted to ensure that her conversation with Ducard would not be cut short by her husband's appearance here. Finding Ducard alone with her would not be cause for concern or outrage on Siddig's part, for the two often were alone when discussing Ducard's palace duties. But considering the delicate nature of this particular discussion, she knew emotions could run high, and her husband would certainly demand an explanation from Ducard for upsetting his wife.
Fortunately, it was not long before a knock sounded at her door, and Aditi entered with Ducard.
"Leave us," Maysam ordered the servant. "See that we are not disturbed."
"Yes, sahiba." Aditi retreated, closing the door behind her.
"Good evening," Ducard said with a slight bow, his expression unreadable. "How may I be of service?"
"Forgive me for interrupting your evening, but I have an urgent matter to discuss with you." She gestured toward the sandstone-colored leather sofa, then went to a matching armchair facing him where he settled. Maysam collected herself, absently smoothed the silken fabric of her pale pink tunic where it draped the thighs of her white pants. She cleared her throat. "I just had a conversation with my daughter about you."
His handsome face betrayed no emotion, and he sat without tension, broad shoulders square but relaxed into the back of the sofa. One large hand stroked his desert-brown mustache and goatee, something he often did while thinking. His intelligent ice-blue eyes never wavered from hers. Casually, he crossed his legs. Ducard had a magnetism about him, an air of natural leadership and confidence. It was not difficult to understand why her daughter—or any woman—was attracted to him. Maysam knew little about his past other than his military background and that he had no family—requirements of men who served the El Fadil family. Now she found herself wondering about his parents and upbringing, what had formed him into what he was today.
"It has come to my attention," Maysam said, "that my daughter has taken a personal interest in you."
"Ma'am?" He frowned slightly, quizzically, a good actor.
"I am sure you can understand that this has caused me some concern."
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand. A personal interest? Are you saying someone has accused her of inappropriate behavior?"
"No one has accused her of such, no." She paused, giving him time to squirm, but he remained impassive. "Mr. Ducard, have you ever had children of your own?"
A slight line creased his broad forehead at this seemingly unrelated change of topic. "No, ma'am." Then one corner of his thin mustache arose in a disarming half-smile. "Not that I'm aware, anyway."
"So, you have been promiscuous in your past?"
The smile slipped away. "No more than any other man."
"Since you do not have children of your own, then it is impossible for you to understand how deeply a parent loves and desires to protect a child."
"I disagree—I can understand it, even if I haven't experienced it."
"I'm not convinced of that." She paused again, thought she detected a slight stirring of anger in his unblinking eyes, but then it was gone. "As you know, I have but one child, Mr. Ducard. A child is precious, especially when it seems I cannot have a second. Melisande means everything to me."
"Of course she does. She is a remarkable girl."
"Indeed she is." Maysam interlaced her fingers upon her knees. "I will do whatever it takes to protect her."
"And I am sworn to do the same."
"Being a Westerner, you are not bound by our cultural and religious customs here, but you are well aware of them."
"Of course."
"So you are aware that girls do not simply marry whomever they wish to marry."
"I'm familiar with the custom of arranged marriages, yes," he said indulgently, never flinching from the direction her questions were taking.
"You are familiar with it, yet you flout it by entering into an unsanctioned marriage with my daughter."
Her sudden, flat-out directness silenced him for a moment, his shoulders coming forward, his lips parting silently.
"Do you deny it?" she demanded coldly.
He blinked, gathered himself. "No."
Maysam could not help but respect his courage to admit guilt when he knew doing so could easily result in his ruin. "You have put my daughter in a dangerous position. Do you not realize that?"
Ducard hesitated a moment before answering, wet his lips, and leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. "I love your daughter, ma'am. Please understand that I tried to dissuade Melisande from her insistence that we marry, for the very reason that concerns you."
"And yet you went forward with it."
"In the end, I couldn't deny her."
"You should have!" The sudden release of her anger propelled Maysam to her feet.
"I'm sorry."
"For what? For sleeping with my daughter? Isn't that what this is really about? You never would have married her for any other reason."
Ducard scowled. "You couldn't be more wrong, ma'am. I'm sorry that I've upset you; I am not, however, sorry that I married Melisande. We love each other. As a married woman, you should understand that."
"Oh, yes, I understand. All too well. I loved a boy, but he was not of my father's choosing, so I obeyed my parents and married the man they chose for me. I did what I had to do so I wouldn't dishonor my family. Melisande should have done the same."
"So, you love your daughter, yet you're perfectly fine with her marrying someone she doesn't love?" He had gotten to his feet, too, standing well over six feet tall, making Maysam feel small, but she did not back down. "I would think you would be more concerned with her happiness than with her father's."
"How dare you? Of course my daughter's happiness is paramount. But don't let your love blind you, Mr. Ducard; you know my husband. He will not stand for this. I can't be sure what he would do if he were to find out. Surely, you've considered the ramifications. Or perhaps not."
"Siddig may seek satisfaction from me, but he won't harm his only child."
"We aren't going to wait to find out, are we? No, you are going to dissolve your union with my daughter, in every way. If you do not, you will be dismissed."
A slight hint of a smile in his eyes and upon his lips. "You don't have the power to dismiss me."
"Then my husband will."
"And what grounds will you give him for that? You know he'll want one; I'm valuable to him."
"I will think of something."
"Your husband isn't a predictable man, is he? Who's to say he wouldn't kill me instead of simply terminating my contract? After all, he might view me as a liability if he were to dismiss me; I know too much about the family business. Then, if he did kill me, my blood would be on your hands, and your daughter would never forgive you."
And there it was. Maysam seethed inside. The bastard knew he held all the cards. She turned away from him, paced back to the sliding glass door, gaze burning, fists clenched at her sides. Night had fully arrived in the desert, leaving the world black except for the muted solar lights in the gardens below. She felt as if the blackness were trying to work its way into this very room.
"Is it money you want?" she asked.
He did not answer right away but remained standing near the sofa. "Of course not. I have what I want—Melisande."
"And you think this can go on forever, my husband blissfully ignorant? Are you that much a fool, Mr. Ducard? I wouldn't have thought so before all this."
"I understand the gravity of the situation. I'm hoping in time I will have become valuable enough in Siddig's eyes that he will allow our relationship to continue. A long shot, true, but I will think of something to safeguard Melisande."
"Blackmail?"
"If it comes to that."
"He will find a suitor for her, sooner rather than later. In fact, he was telling me of one just the other day."
"I have contingencies for that."
Maysam turned and found his eyes as cold as she had ever seen them before. "And what does that mean?"
"It's best if you don't know. Plausible deniability."
She considered him. "If you are allowed to stay here and I say nothing to Siddig about our daughter's marriage, you will agree to stay away from her."
"I can't promise that, even if I wanted to. You know Melisande. She's a stubborn, headstrong young woman. If you make her desperate by controlling her, that's when she will rebel, and she could unwittingly give herself away to her father or to someone else who would inform upon her. Neither you nor I want to find out what Siddig would do after that."
"You are gambling with my daughter's life."
"It's the hand we've been dealt. Maybe if you applied some pressure to your husband to allow Melisande to marry a man of her choosing, this will all be resolved."
"Siddig will never budge on this, I assure you."
Ducard's tone had softened. "You could try. Siddig knows you will do anything to see your daughter happy. In the meantime, we both know Melisande longs for an education; she could go away to university, and you could put my name forward to be head of her security detail. That would take the danger out of us being together here where there are so many eyes and ears."
"Siddig isn't interested in our daughter's education, or any woman's education for that matter. He already has a purpose for her, and that's to marry someone of his choosing."
"It will cost you nothing to try to persuade him."
Maysam wavered, feeling hopelessness wash over her. There could be no good outcome here. She studied him anew. In some other world, perhaps she could imagine her daughter spending her life with this man. Though a soldier of fortune, Ducard was an educated, intelligent man, and she had to admit that when he spoke of Melisande, there was a genuineness to his words and a light in his eyes that she had never seen before. If he were to leave this dangerous life, perhaps he could make a suitable husband for her daughter. But…Siddig would never allow it to happen. She could not entertain any delusions.
Ducard stepped over to her, deep sincerity in his eyes. "Please consider what I've said. Melisande and I do love each other, and neither of us can imagine being separated. I don't ask this of you for myself but for your daughter. You want her to be happy, as do I. Her remaining here under her father's thumb won't achieve that. And if there is anyone who could persuade Siddig to waver, it would be you."
Maysam scoffed. "I'm afraid I lack your confidence in my husband's tractability, Mr. Ducard."
Ducard offered her a small smile. "I promise you I will do my best to see Melisande as little as possible until you can try to persuade your husband. I'll explain it to her as well. If she knows that you are in her corner, I think she will be more apt to follow your advice when it comes to our being physically apart at this point."
What choice did she have? If she were intractable, this whole thing could lead to disaster sooner rather than later. She remembered the passion in her daughter's voice and words earlier, and she remembered her own love before marrying Siddig. Maybe Ducard was right—she should not condemn her daughter to marrying someone she did not love. Maybe Melisande could have what she never had—true freedom.
"If Siddig finds out about you," Maysam said at last, "understand that I will not help you. My allegiance is to my daughter alone."
"I understand."
Maysam shook her head. "I'm not sure you do, Mr. Ducard. And if this all does come to light, I need your word that you will not implicate me in any way."
"You have it."
She hesitated a moment longer, feeling sick to her stomach. Then she said, "Let us go speak with my daughter."
It took both Ducard and Maysam some time to convince Melisande that she should refrain from her clandestine meetings with him. She argued and wept, begged her mother, kneeling at her feet. But in the end, it was Ducard who penetrated her stubbornness.
"It won't be forever, my love," he said, watching the tears roll down her cheeks. "I don't want this any more than you do, but in the end, perhaps your mother can convince your father. We must give her time to try."
"But what if she can't convince him?"
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Melisande shook her head and turned away from them, shuffling toward the doors to her veranda. The night was impenetrable, like her own future. She turned back to them with fresh hope. "We could run away."
"No, daughter," her mother said, shaking her head.
Melisande hurried over to her and sat close together on the sofa, took her mother's hands. "Yes, Henri and I could leave tonight. Or I could go to Jodphur to shop, with Henri heading my security detail, then we just wouldn't come back. We would disappear." She looked hopefully at Henri, but he was shaking his head.
"If we did that," he said, "we would always be looking over our shoulders, and your father would eventually find us. I have no doubt he would kill me. And you…" He shook his head. "No, for now, we need to let your mother work on your father."
"And if Baba says no, which he will?"
Henri frowned. "We must believe your mother will be successful."
Melisande sighed heavily and wiped away her tears. How she wanted to collapse into his embrace and receive strength from those powerful arms of his, feel his caress against her cheek, his lips upon hers, making her forget about everything except him. How long would it be before they held one another again? Surely she would die from hunger…hunger for his touch. If only she felt the confidence needed to survive this. But how could she, knowing her father the way she did? Did her mother really have a chance to influence him in this matter? Her heart could not believe it, but what choice did she have? At least for now, she would do what her mother and Henri asked of her, no matter how agonizing. And, in the meantime, she would convince Henri to run away with her if her mother failed.
Weeks passed. Maysam did her best to find ways of discussing Melisande's future with Siddig without giving anything away, but he would not be swayed. When he grew suspicious and peevish about the subject, she backed off, news that crushed Melisande and heightened her despair. Meanwhile, Melisande attempted to stay away from Henri, but neither of them could do so completely, meeting a couple of times at the guesthouse in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to her mother, of course.
"We will have guests for dinner this evening," Siddig said one morning over breakfast. "Daughter, you are to present yourself in your finest attire, and you will not—do you hear me?—not be late."
Melisande exchanged a quick, worried look with her mother. "Who are these guests, Baba?"
"Abdul Hussein, his wife, and their eldest son, Jamal."
Maysam stirred in surprise, gently cleared her throat. "I thought you and he were at odds, Siddig. He's threatened to take over some of our territory, hasn't he?"
Siddig nodded as if irritated by the reminder, chewing his food quickly. "He's threatened, yes, but we've repelled him, of course. Naturally, he claims those men we killed were not soldiers of his, but I know better."
"Then why are we hosting them as guests?" Maysam asked.
"Hussein's pressure has cost me men and material. I am hoping to make him see reason when it comes to his designs on what is ours."
Maysam kept her tone passive and her eyes on her plate. "And how will you do that, if I may ask?"
"I will offer our daughter's hand in marriage to Jamal."
Melisande choked on her food, coughed hard, and quickly reached for her glass of water.
"Do you know anything about Jamal?" Maysam asked, hiding any reaction to this news. "Have you met him before?"
"No, but we will all meet him this evening." Siddig sipped his coffee.
"Baba," Melisande said desperately, "I don't want to marry someone we don't even know. Can't I go to university first? Perhaps I will meet someone there, someone whose father isn't a criminal."
Siddig scowled. "We're not going over this again. You will be staying here, and you will marry a man of my choosing. That is what will help your family, not you gallivanting off to some university to study something you don't need."
"I want to study law; that could help our family. I could be your counsel. Think of the money I could save you. You wouldn't need to pay someone like Mr. Amlani." In truth, she wanted nothing to do with helping her father. No, she wanted to use her skills to help other women, to protect their rights and advance their opportunities in this world. Her mother knew this, but Melisande had never dared to share her desires with her father, nor would she ever.
Siddig scoffed and shook his head, taking another sip. "I don't want to hear any more nonsense, daughter. You will do what I say."
Melisande's gaze beseeched her mother, but Maysam gave her a slight shake of her head to discourage her from arguing further. Melisande's stomach began to churn, and she viewed her breakfast with revulsion. She crumpled the linen napkin in her lap and dropped it onto her plate, abruptly pushing her chair away from the table. Biting back an angry sob, she stood.
Scowling, Siddig said, "Sit down and finish your breakfast."
"I'm not hungry anymore."
"Don't be so dramatic, daughter. Sit down."
"Dramatic?" Melisande cried. "You're selling me like one of your horses. How should I act?"
"How do you know you won't like this boy?" he challenged.
"Because I could never love someone who's been forced upon me."
"Daughter," Maysam said calmly. "Please. Sit back down."
"No," Melisande shot, behind her chair now, her fingers gripping the back of it, turning her knuckles white. "You told me you would convince Baba not to do this, but now he's doing it. How can you let this happen?" With that, she ran from the room, ignoring her parents' calls for her to return.