Page 13 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)
Chapter Eleven
Now
England
H ow much longer before we get there?” Nadine grumbled as they trudged along the steep side of the hill. “This seems like a lot of trouble just to see a few ruins.”
“Not much farther,” Kareem said encouragingly. “We are almost there.”
It was late afternoon. They were on their way to see what was left of an ancient abbey on Strickland’s estate. Their group also included Nadine’s husband, Ghassan; their two boys; and Hind and Hawk. The duke and Raya had stayed behind, closeted in a meeting regarding their upcoming nuptials.
As they walked, the group fell into pairs, Naila with Kareem, Nadine and Ghassan. And Hawk with Hind. The two boys walked and chatted with Naila before scurrying ahead.
“How old are your sister’s children?” Kareem asked, watching the boys chase each other.
“Malik is six and Abdallah is nine.”
“They seem very attached to you.”
“As I am to them.” Naila determinedly focused on her conversation with Kareem, rather than preoccupying herself with Hawk and Hind’s interactions.
Putting Hawk in the past meant she must not be affected by his blossoming courtship of her young cousin.
It did not escape her notice that Hind was the age she herself had been when Hawk first took an interest in her. Perhaps he preferred younger women.
When they reached the summit, the abbey came into view and Naila forgot about everything but the majestic solid stone structure sprawled before them. It was a breathtaking combination of columns and arches, with a lantern tower that soared high into the sky.
“Oh,” Naila breathed. “It’s exquisite.”
“It is?” Nadine said. “What’s so exquisite about it?”
“I thought you might like it,” Kareem said to Naila. “Come, let us get closer.”
All that was left of the once-grand structure were the outer walls with immense arch-shaped window openings. A shell of a building brightened by a luscious carpet of violet wildflowers.
“Raya must love it here,” Naila said. “Purple is her favorite color.”
“Why would she care for this place?” Nadine returned as if the very idea was ludicrous. “She has a castle that actually has floors and a roof.”
They spread out a blanket and snacked on fruits, cheese and sweetmeats that had been prepared in the Castle Tremayne kitchens. The boys ran wild, looping in and out of what remained of the abbey’s corridors and courtyard.
“Shall we explore the lantern tower?” Kareem asked once they’d eaten. “The view from there is really quite special.”
“And climb all those stairs?” Nadine said. “I’m content to remain here resting my feet for the walk back.” Ghassan decided to stay with his wife while the rest of the group made their way up to the top of the lantern tower to admire the view.
From this vantage point, Castle Tremayne rose proudly in the distance, surrounded by the natural splendor of the green landscape and rolling hills. They made their way down again and walked around, the boys darting between them, laughing and shouting, chasing each other.
“Come and play with us, Auntie Naila,” Malik cried out to her. “We could play hide and seek.”
“Perhaps later,” Naila said. “At the moment, I am speaking with Mr. Amar.”
Malik pouted but scampered off after his older brother.
“I also feel badly trampling through the flowers,” Naila said to Kareem.
“As I understand it, the duke planted these for his future duchess.” After a moment, Kareem added, “My wife used to love violet flowers.”
“Your wife?” Naila said in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were wed.”
“My late wife. Few of my more recent acquaintances know about Layalle,” he said. “I do not speak of my loss very often.”
Naila realized she and Kareem had more in common than a love of architecture. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He looked off into the distance. “I wasn’t married for long. She fell ill barely a month after the wedding.”
“That must have been a terrible shock.”
“It was. You can have no idea what it is like to suffer such a loss.”
“I have not lost a husband, that is true. But I have some understanding of what it is to lose someone very dear to you.”
“Is that so?” He smiled sadly. “I am sorry to know that you have suffered in that way. I would not wish such a tragedy on anyone.”
They passed an old stone bench. Malik hopped onto it and launched himself onto Naila’s back. “Come play with us now, Auntie!”
Malik’s arms tightened around Naila’s neck as he rode piggyback. “Malik,” she said firmly, trying to loosen the child’s grip. “Not now.”
“Please,” Malik said excitedly, refusing to be dislodged. “Let’s play horsey. Just one loop.”
“Malik,” she said. “I am speaking with Mr. Amar.” It was not the thing to roughhouse in polite company. She didn’t want Kareem, but mostly Hawk, to view them as heathens from America. Her cheeks burning, she wiggled, trying to displace the boy as gently as possible.
“You heard your aunt,” Kareem’s voice was stern. “Come down from there.”
“Who are you again?” Malik asked.
Hawk appeared out of nowhere. Stepping around Naila, he slipped his hands under the boy’s arms and pulled him away, setting him firmly but gently on his feet. “Now run along,” he directed the boy.
“Hey!” The boy spun around to see who had displaced him, but whatever he saw in Hawk’s face made him clamp his mouth shut and dart off to join his brother.
Before Naila had a chance to thank him, Hawk nodded abruptly and took his leave, striding back to join Hind, who watched him with undisguised admiration.
“We’ve decided to change our wedding trip plans,” Raya announced.
It was the night before the wedding. The three sisters were sugaring, removing the hair from their bodies using a traditional sugar, lemon and water paste recipe passed down from their ancestors. Arab brides often practiced the hair removal ritual in preparation for their wedding night.
“Change your plans how?” Naila was relieved the wedding date had finally arrived. After Raya and Strick were married, Hawk would undoubtedly return to his own estate. Only then would she finally be free of him and able to focus on moving forward.
Raya spread the sugar paste over her calf. “Strick and I will go to London for a week and then you all will come join us in town.”
Naila used two hands to knead a portion of the taffy-like mixture. “But I thought you were eager to take an extended wedding trip.”
“We can do that after you all return to New York. I want to spend time with the family while you’re here.” Raya grimaced as she ripped the sugar from her calf, yanking out a strip of fine leg hair with it. “I think you will enjoy seeing London.”
“Oh, I would.” Naila thought of all of the historic structures she’d be able to visit in town. “Are Nadine, Hind and the rest of us to remain at Castle Tremayne before traveling to London to join you?”
Nadine released an exasperated sigh. “How boring to be stuck all the way out here in the middle of nowhere,” she grumbled. “Why can’t we go to London right after the wedding?”
“Because I’d like to be there to receive you,” Raya said. “And to make sure the house is ready for visitors.”
Nadine rolled her eyes. “Isn’t there anything else we can do instead of staying at this dreary castle? The boys are getting bored.”
“There is plenty to do here,” Naila protested.
Nadine ignored her. “Is there something else we can do before meeting you in London?” she asked Raya.
“Maybe.” Raya spread the paste on her other calf. “I’ll think of something.”
The following day, Raya married her duke in a small morning ceremony.
It was a modest affair with just a handful of friends and family on hand, to be followed by an equally intimate wedding breakfast. The evening wedding ball, to which hundreds were invited, would be the main event celebrating the duke’s marriage to his duchess.
Raya was a vision in a silk and lace wedding gown tastefully embellished with tatreez of the palest silver, a nod to the bride’s Palestinian roots.
The fallahi cross-stitching featured traditional motifs, the geometric patterns symbolizing eternity and unity.
The florals represented growth and nature; the pomegranate flowers denoted life and fertility.
Auntie Majida had spent weeks embroidering the designs onto the bodice and hem of Raya’s dress.
Her hopes and wishes for her niece’s future were lovingly and meticulously crafted into the silk fabric.
Naila’s chest swelled as she watched Raya exchange vows with her duke.
Strick, dressed in dark formal clothes, had eyes only for his bride, who had never been more radiant.
Hawk stood to the side, watching the ceremony with a serious expression.
He looked impossibly handsome in a burgundy frock coat and snowy waist coat.
Naila sighed inwardly. If only the man had had the decency to lose his good looks.
But rather than becoming old and out of shape, he was more appealing than ever.
His cheekbones were extra prominent, the cut of his chin sharply defined.
His shoulders, broad before, were even wider now, evidence that he hadn’t abandoned his daily rowing habit.
But it wasn’t Hawk’s appearance that had reeled her in all those years ago. Of course, his good looks were a factor. But mostly she had been attracted to the wicked gleam in his eye, the mischievous smile, the repartee that kept Naila on her feet and at her best.
Emotion rose into her throat. For a brief moment, she envisioned herself in Raya’s place.
What would it be like to publicly pledge herself to the man she loved?
For his silver gaze to be one of the first sights greeting her each morning?
She imagined basking in Hawk’s tender adoration and then swallowed down the soreness in her throat.