Royals: A Dutiful Princess. Leanne BanksЧитать онлайн книгу.
across his bows for making light of something that was obviously a great concern to her. ‘Jazz lives a near normal life in Kareshi. Sharif broke all the traditionalists’ rules by giving Jazz a job at his racing stables, where she’s excelled in management, but, more importantly, this has opened the floodgates for all the women of Kareshi to work, if they choose to do so.’
‘But?’ he prompted, homing in on Britt’s brief hesitation.
‘But it’s made Jazz more determined than ever to uphold tradition in other areas of her life, so that no one can find fault with Sharif’s decision to allow her to work.’
‘What does “upholding tradition” mean exactly?’
‘It means that Jazz believes Kareshi can only take one small step at a time, and if by staying in the shadows it means every woman in Kareshi has the right to work, she’s prepared to do that. We should admire her for that sacrifice.’
‘Her sacrifice?’
‘Kareshi has to be coaxed, not bullied, Tyr. Jazz understands this as I do. Freedom for women to work is the first big step. Freedom for unmarried women to mix openly with men without being shunned by society is the next. Kareshi will take that step, but Jazz is devoted to her people, and I think we can safely trust Jazz to know what’s best in this instance.’
‘To know what’s best for her, or for Kareshi?’
‘Don’t get so heated, Tyr. For both, of course. And please don’t scowl at me like that.’
‘You’re right, and I apologise.’ Britt had done too much for him for him to sound off at her like that. ‘I’m still trying to get my head around the feisty girl I knew becoming some sort of reclusive woman.’
‘So you didn’t shut yourself away from those who loved you?’
Trust Britt to point that out. He forced a smile over his concern for Jazz. ‘Point taken.’
‘Be happy for her, Tyr. Jazz is a wonderful young woman with the strongest sense of duty where Kareshi is concerned, something I know you can relate to. It makes sense that she doesn’t want to cause ripples on the pond.’
‘It makes sense to you maybe,’ he agreed, ‘but Jazz is my friend, and I’m going to see a lot of friends tonight and I’m going to treat them all the same.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’ Taking his face between her hands, Britt stood on tiptoes to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘Now, there are some people outside that door who have waited a long time to give you a big, sloppy welcome without the rest of the world looking on.’
His spirits soared with expectation. ‘Eva and Leila are here?’
‘With their husbands—I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as Roman and Raffa are your closest friends?’
‘I don’t mind at all.’ He was looking forward to it, and his cynical self reassured him that if he kept it light they wouldn’t see anything in his eyes except the happiness a reunion like this would bring.
His middle sister, Eva, was the first into the room, changing the dynamics completely. Eva lived up to her bright red hair with the sharpest tongue this side of a scalpel, and the long space of time since they’d seen each other hadn’t dulled Eva’s approach. Standing back, she weighed him up. ‘You look every bit as formidable as I remember, warrior-boy.’
‘I could crush you with one finger, squirt.’
Fists raised, they squared up for a mock fight, and then, bursting into tears, Eva launched herself at him. Pummelling him with her tiny fists, she raged in a shaking voice, ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again. Do you hear me, Tyr?’ Pulling back, she stared at him with furious eyes. ‘Don’t you ever disappear out of my life again without at least having the courtesy to leave me the keys to your muscle car.’
Laughing, he embraced her. ‘Promise,’ he murmured softly as he kissed the top of her head.
Eyes softened with tears, Eva pulled back to stare at him. ‘You’ve no idea how we’ve missed you, Tyr.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’ How much, they’d never know. ‘I can’t imagine how I survived all that time without the three of you nagging me.’
As Eva roared with pretended fury, Britt walked to the door and swung it wide. ‘Leila!’ He was ready to catch his youngest sister and swing her round. Thankfully he stopped in time. ‘Wow. You are pregnant.’
‘Bowling-ball pregnant,’ Leila confirmed, laughing and crying all at the same time as they embraced.
‘But you look as beautiful as Britt warned me you would.’
Leila huffed a laugh as she stood back. ‘If you like waddling hippos, I’m your gal.’ She stared at him intently for a moment. ‘I can’t believe you’ve come back to us.’ His sister’s eyes filled with love and concern. ‘But life’s taken a bite out of you.’
‘Enough.’ He straightened his jacket. ‘We’re going to a party, aren’t we?’
‘We mustn’t keep our guests waiting,’ Britt agreed, exchanging a look with him as she held the door.
Linking arms with his two younger sisters, he urged them out of the room.
* * *
For the first time Jazz could remember, Sharif hadn’t shown impatience with her when she wasn’t ready to leave for the party at the same time as him and Britt. ‘No hurry,’ he’d soothed with a smile. ‘Just call me when you’re ready and I’ll come back for you.’
At the time she’d been flapping over what to wear. This might seem like a storm in a teacup to the average bystander, but, when you chose not to socialise in mixed company, it was hard to know what high society in a bustling mining town like Skavanga would expect of a very conservative princess of Kareshi.
‘Your smile,’ Britt had told Jazz in her usual down-to-earth way, insisting Jazz must show her face on this occasion. ‘You don’t have to take the traditions of Kareshi to the nth degree when you’re staying with us in the frozen north.’
‘But if I were photographed—’
‘The people of Kareshi could only be proud of their princess. Seeing you with your brother, surrounded by a family who loves you both so much, how could they not be proud of you, Jazz?’
Britt was always hard to argue with, and on that occasion impossible, though Jazz had had to wrestle with her inner demons before she could agree to showing her face in public. Her parents had abused their privilege and neglected their people, leaving Sharif and Jazz in the care of a succession of nannies while their mother had flaunted her beauty on a world stage. Sharif and Jazz had grown up sensitive to the rumblings of discontent in their country, so that when the time came for Sharif to inherit the throne he had moved as quickly as he could to turn the super-tanker round and establish a fair rule so he could make their country safe. Sharif was good and strong and kind and wise, but their troubled childhood in a land of absentee rulers and rampant corruption had left Jazz determined not to cause any more upset, so, however free her spirit, in appearance she was always careful not to offend.
‘You should get out of Kareshi more,’ Britt had insisted when they had discussed what Jazz would wear for the party. ‘It would be good for your people, and good for you.’
Jazz agreed, but Kareshi was steeped in millennia of tradition. Sharif had already given her a job at his racing stables, which had opened the floodgates for every woman in Kareshi to work, should they choose to do so, and Jazz wasn’t about to risk their freedom by pushing the traditionalists too far. And it was much easier hiding behind a veil than facing up to a night like this. Staring into the mirror, she wished her heart would stop pounding. Her brother had already left with Britt, so Britt could enjoy a private reunion with her sisters and their long-lost brother, Tyr, at the Skavanga Mining company offices.
Tyr.