‘Naturally, Fatima will be on call and, indeed, she can live in with us if you’d like. There is a separate suite that would do for housing her.’ He paused. ‘I have never had any particular longing for the rituals of domesticity but, yes, it would be good to have fewer staff around jumping to our every need. Having a child has certainly opened my eyes to that.’
‘There’s also something else I should say.’
‘Am I going to like it? An opener like that is never followed up by the popping of champagne corks. Talk to me. I’m all ears.’
‘You’ve made a case for us being married, you’ve persuaded me that it’s the right thing to do, that it’s theonlything to do but...’
‘But?’
Georgie hesitated. Was this the right place to have this conversation? The right time? Yet, she knew that she had to tell him what she thought because it was far too easy to let herself fall under his spell and be swept along by a heady combination of sex and her own foolish love.
‘This relationship we have... Yes, we get along and, yes, I won’t deny that I really enjoy...what we do...together...’
‘Sex, Georgie.’ He smiled gently. ‘We do the raunchiest things in bed and yet you still blush like a virgin when it comes to talking about it. I can’t deny how much I enjoy it when you do that.’
‘Sex never lasts,’ she said flatly.
‘It can drop off, in my experience, I agree.’
‘And when things change between us...when that eventually fades away, as your wife I will still expect you to remain faithful to me.’ She watched him carefully, watched to see any little hesitation, but she could read nothing at all in his expression. His silence propelled her to carry on. ‘I don’t think I’m asking too much. You may laugh but that was the way I was brought up, to expect fidelity within marriage. I’ve seen so many cases of what happens when one partner or the other fools around, the damage it causes to their families. You might think that two parents living together, whatever the circumstances of their marriage, is preferable to living apart when it comes to children, but adultery undermines in ways that I would never be able to accept so...’
‘You have my word.’
‘Oh. Right. Good.’ She breathed a sigh of relief.
‘There was no need to ask,’ he said quietly. ‘I have always been a one-woman man.’
‘I had to make absolutely sure.’
‘You did.’ He shrugged. ‘And now let us agree that that is something we leave behind. Not only do you have my word on that score, but you also have my word that, should the time ever arrive when I feel myself tempted to stray, then not only will I tell you but I will also give you the option of bailing on our marriage.’
Georgie nodded.
‘And the same, naturally, goes for you,’ he added mildly. ‘What’s good for the goose, as you English would say, is good for the gander. What if you are the one who decides to spread your wings?’
‘That’s not me.’
‘How can you be sure, Georgie? I know you were raised with all the right principles in place, but there is nothing in life that is written in stone. When you are surrounded by sand dunes, you quickly understand that what seems hard and fast can change very quickly, depending on the direction of the wind. I’ve had a lot of experience. You have had precious little. What makes you so sure that you won’t start wondering what other excitement lies out there, as yet untested?’
‘You truly don’t know me if you think that,’ she said with conviction.
‘In that case, like I said, let’s leave it there and enjoy the feast that’s been prepared. Afterwards, I will give you a guided tour. You’ll be excited to know that it’ll take a fraction of the time it took for you to become acquainted with the palace.’
Georgie relaxed. He might not love her—yet—the way she loved him, but he was committed to what they were doing. He wouldn’t decide that boredom might be a good excuse to stray and she believed what he had told her.
They both had principles.
The food was exquisite. They camped at the kitchen table and she enjoyed every mouthful. Sitting opposite him, she couldn’t help but stare at his outrageous beauty and be lulled by his anecdotes as he described his country to her and its history. The sex might fade at some far distant point in the future, but right now she was turned on just at the anticipation of being in bed with him later tonight.
He showed her round the villa. The paintings were bold and colourful, and he explained that they were all done by local artists. He reminded her of her love of painting, of the sketchbook she used to carry around with her all those years ago in Ibiza. He remembered the cloth case she had used for her charcoals.
There was an arts council, he told her, and she could get involved with it. He explained who worked on it and how she could contribute to growing it.
She’d asked him how on earth she was going to orient herself when she knew no one and he was answering that question now and just the thought of finding some kind of footing was incredibly calming.
In the relaxed, informal atmosphere at the villa, without staff, they discussed the minutiae of their arrangements.
Social engagements, the whens and whys and wherefores, Tilly’s schooling, Georgie’s apartment in London—which she would have liked to have kept but which he vetoed very firmly and, though she wanted to dig her heels in for some vague reason, she honestly couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to argue the toss.
