Read Online Innocent in the Sheikh's Harem by Marguerite Kaye - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marguerite Kaye
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the one she had left. She thought at first she was back where she had started. Then the door behind her closed, leaving the guards on the other side, and she realised where she was.
Just as Ramiz had told her she would be, she was in his harem.
It was everything she had expected, and yet nothing like it. For a start she was quite alone aside from the two maidservants who tended to her, bringing delicious foods, exotic fruits she had never seen before, fragrant meats cooked in delicious spices, cooling sherbets and tea served sweet and flavoured with mint.
Adila and Fatima were shy at first, giggling over Celia’s clothes, astonished at the layers of undergarments she wore, and utterly confounded by her stays. In turn Celia, who allowed her dresser to look after her hair for grand occasions, but otherwise was used to managing for herself, found their care for her embarrassing—waving them away when they first attempted to bathe her, submitting only when she saw that she had offended them.
By nature modest, Celia had never shared such intimacies as bathing, even with her sisters, but within the seclusion of the harem it seemed less shocking, and she very quickly began to enjoy the pampering of baths strewn with rose petals and orange blossom, having oils scented with musk and amber gently massaged into her skin and preparations for her hair and for her face, which left her whole body glowing and more relaxed than she had ever known.
The harem itself covered three floors, its upper terraces reached by tiled staircases which zigzagged up through the towers, marking the four corners of the courtyards. These upper rooms were empty, echoing, as if they had not been used for some time. The lower rooms, which led one into another in a square around the terrace, were opulently decorated, with rich carpets on the floors and low divans draped with lace, velvet and silk, the jewel colours of blue and gold and emerald and crimson reflected in the long mirrors which hung on the walls. The only windows looked out onto the courtyard, and the only exit was the one through which she had entered, but once Celia had recovered from the shock of her incarceration and accepted there was nothing she could do save wait for Ramiz to return, she found it astonishingly easy to surrender to the magical world of the harem. She had nothing to do save surrender her body to the ministering of Adila and Fatima, and surrender her mind to the healing process.
As the days melded one into another Celia quickly lost all track of time, so strangely did the tranquil seclusion of the harem play on her senses. She had never been so much alone, never had so much peace to simply be. As the eldest, and having lost her mother not long after her youngest sister Cressida was born, it was second nature to Celia to put others first, to be always thinking ahead and taking responsibility for what happened next. Indulgence and inactivity such as had now been forced on her were quite alien. Those who knew her as always busy, always planning, managing at least ten things at once, would say without hesitation that such a life as she was now experiencing would have her beside herself with boredom or screaming for release. Celia would have said so herself. But right now it was the antidote she required to recover not just from the trauma of losing her husband, but from the trauma of realising she wished she had never married him in the first place. If Ramiz had intended this as a punishment, he had been mistaken.
Almost without her noticing a full month passed, marked by the changing of the moon, whose growth from flickering crescent to glowing whole reflected the healing process taking place in Celia herself.
Then, just as she was beginning to wonder if she would be left forgotten here for ever, and her temper was beginning to recover enough to resent Ramiz’s extended and unexplained absence, the man himself appeared without warning.
It was evening. Dinner had
Just as Ramiz had told her she would be, she was in his harem.
It was everything she had expected, and yet nothing like it. For a start she was quite alone aside from the two maidservants who tended to her, bringing delicious foods, exotic fruits she had never seen before, fragrant meats cooked in delicious spices, cooling sherbets and tea served sweet and flavoured with mint.
Adila and Fatima were shy at first, giggling over Celia’s clothes, astonished at the layers of undergarments she wore, and utterly confounded by her stays. In turn Celia, who allowed her dresser to look after her hair for grand occasions, but otherwise was used to managing for herself, found their care for her embarrassing—waving them away when they first attempted to bathe her, submitting only when she saw that she had offended them.
By nature modest, Celia had never shared such intimacies as bathing, even with her sisters, but within the seclusion of the harem it seemed less shocking, and she very quickly began to enjoy the pampering of baths strewn with rose petals and orange blossom, having oils scented with musk and amber gently massaged into her skin and preparations for her hair and for her face, which left her whole body glowing and more relaxed than she had ever known.
The harem itself covered three floors, its upper terraces reached by tiled staircases which zigzagged up through the towers, marking the four corners of the courtyards. These upper rooms were empty, echoing, as if they had not been used for some time. The lower rooms, which led one into another in a square around the terrace, were opulently decorated, with rich carpets on the floors and low divans draped with lace, velvet and silk, the jewel colours of blue and gold and emerald and crimson reflected in the long mirrors which hung on the walls. The only windows looked out onto the courtyard, and the only exit was the one through which she had entered, but once Celia had recovered from the shock of her incarceration and accepted there was nothing she could do save wait for Ramiz to return, she found it astonishingly easy to surrender to the magical world of the harem. She had nothing to do save surrender her body to the ministering of Adila and Fatima, and surrender her mind to the healing process.
As the days melded one into another Celia quickly lost all track of time, so strangely did the tranquil seclusion of the harem play on her senses. She had never been so much alone, never had so much peace to simply be. As the eldest, and having lost her mother not long after her youngest sister Cressida was born, it was second nature to Celia to put others first, to be always thinking ahead and taking responsibility for what happened next. Indulgence and inactivity such as had now been forced on her were quite alien. Those who knew her as always busy, always planning, managing at least ten things at once, would say without hesitation that such a life as she was now experiencing would have her beside herself with boredom or screaming for release. Celia would have said so herself. But right now it was the antidote she required to recover not just from the trauma of losing her husband, but from the trauma of realising she wished she had never married him in the first place. If Ramiz had intended this as a punishment, he had been mistaken.
Almost without her noticing a full month passed, marked by the changing of the moon, whose growth from flickering crescent to glowing whole reflected the healing process taking place in Celia herself.
Then, just as she was beginning to wonder if she would be left forgotten here for ever, and her temper was beginning to recover enough to resent Ramiz’s extended and unexplained absence, the man himself appeared without warning.
It was evening. Dinner had
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