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“For that we have to go back thirty-five years, to an auspicious moment in your father’s life—and that of Laura Burns, his ninety-ninth bride and the recipient of the Pink Lady.”

“Yes, Laura Burns,” said the Sheikh. “She died shortly after giving birth to a child, then that child also died. A very sad day for my father, and for the people of my country.”

“Laura died,” said Marge,” but her daughter didn’t. Instead she was smuggled out of the country the day her mother died, along with the Pink Lady.”

The young Sheikh frowned.“What are you talking about? Smuggled out of the country? By who?”

“I think perhaps Loretta is best placed to tell you all about it,” said Odelia.

“Loretta? Why?”

“Because her real name is Bab El Ahs, your highness. And she’s your sister.”

32

The moment Odelia had uttered these words, a couple of things happened: the Sheikh’s jaw dropped, Sharif’s head jerked round to direct an astonished look at Loretta, and the latter rushed out the door. Unfortunately for her, just at that moment Gran tried to walk in, and as a consequence the two ladies collided.

“Oh, there you all are,” said Gran as she tried to glance past Loretta, who tried to get past Gran. “I’m looking for Loretta Gray, and the two heavies watching the door told me she’s in here.”

“That’s Loretta,” I said, pointing to the author who was still trying to get past Gran but was failing to do so. Gran is a hard person to dislodge if she doesn’t want to be dislodged, which she usually doesn’t.

“Oh, hi there,” said Gran, and held out her hand for Loretta to shake. “I’m a friend of Wilbur Vickery’s, and he’s asked me to have a little chat. Turns out you had a bad reaction to your second date with him—don’t worry, it happens all the time—in fact it happened on my first date with him—and now he’s worried that he said something wrong, which, knowing him, he did, and wants to see if there’s anything he can do to fix it, which I’m sure he can’t, but anyway, just thought I’d look in on you and see if there’s any lasting damage, if you know what I mean.” But then she must have noticed that Loretta was on the verge of tears, and her face fell. “Oh, dear. He’s done it again, hasn’t he? Wilbur can be a boor, but deep down he’s all right, you know. Harmless, I mean.”

“It’s not that,” said Loretta, then glanced back. And when her eyes met the Sheikh’s, she produced a faint smile. “I guess I owe you an explanation, don’t I?”

“Yes, I guess you do,” said the Sheikh, still looking flabbergasted.

At this point Gran must have come to the conclusion that something entirely different was going on, so she frowned and said,“What’s going on?”

“Come in, Gran, and close the door,” said Odelia, and then Loretta returned on her steps, Gran did as she was told, and we all listened as the author of The Sheikh’s Passion told her story.

“Thirty-five years ago my mother realized that she was in trouble,” Loretta began. We’d all accepted the Sheikh’s invitation to take a seat in the suite’s salon, and had made ourselves comfortable. Tea had been served, and sweet cookies, and Marge had taken out a tissue, just in case Loretta’s story was as touching as the book she’d read.

“I think I know the kind of trouble you mean,” said Gran as she nibbled from a cookie. “She met a nice boy and got herself pregnant, huh?”

“More or less,” said Loretta.

“Just let the woman talk, Ma,” said Marge, who sat poised on her chair as if at a library reading.

“My mother had married Sheikh Bab El Ehr out of love, and at first things between them were great. But the trouble began soon after their wedding ceremony. You see, my mother had been raised in the traditions of the West, and she wasn’t used to the way things were done in Khemed, even though she’d lived there most of her life, except the years she spent in New York. Her parents had raised her a free spirit, and were very much surprised when she fell in love with the Sheikh and accepted his proposal. They warned her that this might not be a good idea. That an entire structure had been put in place around the Sheikh that would make it impossible for her to live the kind of life she wanted to live. But she was young and in love, and the Sheikh made her all kinds of promises, so she threw caution and the advice of her parents to the wind and decided to marry anyway. The Sheikh had told her before they married that he’d instigate a process of modernization, and that he’d send his other wives back to their families and she would be his only wife. He’d promised her they’d have children, and they’d be the only heirs to the throne. He’d also given her the Pink Lady as a token of his love and affection, and said it was hers to keep, whatever happened, even though the stone had been part of the country’s set of royal jewels until then.”

“I like the story, Max,” said Dooley. “It’s almost like a novel, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I said. “Though unlike a novel, it actually happened.”