A Kiss In the Desert Read online

  It was very different from the enormous mansion in Huntingdonshire which had been in the Earl’s family since the time of Henry VIII.

  All down the centuries the Brackens had always been distinguished members of the Establishment. They had improved and added to their home which became one of the most outstanding ancestral houses in England.

  It was only now, the Earl thought with pride, that under his orders and guidance the estate was again profitable.

  Over the centuries his family had been able to accumulate one of the finest collections of pictures and furniture in England.

  As Charles Kenwood sat down beside him, the Earl asked him,

  “Were you surprised to receive a letter from me?”

  “I was delighted,” Charles answered. “I heard you were back and working hard on your estate, besides of course enjoying yourself in the social world.”

  There was a faint note of mockery in his voice, which told the Earl that the gossip about him and Irene had reached as far as Hertfordshire.

  The Earl poured out a glass of champagne for his friend and refilled his own.

  “Now listen, Charles, I need your help. And I feel only you can help me.”

  Charles Kenwood raised his eyebrows but did not reply.

  “One or two friends have told me,” the Earl continued, “what excellent horses they have bought from you recently that you have broken in and trained yourself.”

  Charles nodded.

  “It is something, as you know, I have always enjoyed. When my father died I had to leave the Regiment and make enough money to keep my estate going and provide both for my sister and myself.”

  “Which I am sure you have done admirably,” the Earl declared. “And as I am sure you are aware, I have been doing very much the same thing – when I have been in the country.”

  He emphasised the last words.

  Charles looked at him sharply.

  “Are you in trouble, Favin?” he enquired.

  There was a slight hesitation before the Earl replied,

  “Shall I say I am standing on the edge of a precipice, and if I make one wrong step it might be disastrous.”

  Charles Kenwood sat back in his chair.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “That is what I am about to ask you.”

  Charles looked surprised. However with his usual tact he did not press the question. He merely waited knowing his friend was choosing his words with care.

  After a moment the Earl resumed,

  “We are both keen on horses for our own enjoyment and are keenly aware that they also bring in the money we both need to develop our estates.”

  “That is true,” Charles agreed. “It is why I visited Tattersall’s this morning. Today I was a buyer and not a seller.”

  “But you have bought nothing?”

  Charles shook his head.

  “Quite frankly I thought the prices were too high and for that sort of money I would expect much better horseflesh.”

  “That is exactly what I wanted you to say! Because I have a suggestion which I think would be of great advantage to us both.”

  Charles looked interested.

  “When I was travelling round the world,” the Earl said, “I visited Syria. Of course you know, as I do, that the best horses of Arab blood come from that country.”

  Charles nodded before he added,

  “And it is almost impossible today to buy a horse with Arab blood in it without paying an astronomical price.”

  “That is just what I find and why it is important for you and me to take advantage of the opportunity to bring back to England the finest Arab thoroughbreds in the world.”

  Charles stared at him.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I do not understand you.”

  “When I was in Syria recently, I spent some time in Damascus, where I met an extremely interesting man.”

  Charles was now listening intently.

  “I was told that he owned some very fine Arab horses. In fact almost the finest, which is saying a great deal for that country.”

  “I know what you are talking about,” Charles said. “I was always told that Bint el Ahwaya is the breed belonging to the children of Ishmael, from which all genuine Arab horses have descended.”

  “That is indeed true and what I was looking for. Not to buy, as I had very little money in those days, but to admire.”

  “I do not blame you, as it is what I would enjoy myself. As you know it is very difficult to find a really good Arab horse in England.”

  “I managed,” the Earl continued, “to get to know a man in Syria called Sheik Abu Hamid.”

  He paused to ask without words if Charles had ever heard of him. His friend shook his head.

  “He has built himself a large house not far from Damascus and he possesses the most marvellous Arab horses I have ever seen.”

  “You were very lucky,” Charles murmured. “I would love to see them myself.”

  “They were fantastic and, I think because I was English and he liked me, he showed me every horse in his stable and there were a great number of them.”

  “I wish I had been with you,” Charles remarked fervently.

  “That is just what I want you to be.”

  Charles looked at him in astonishment.

  “In Syria?”

  “Exactly. Now listen while I explain. I asked the Sheik although at the time I had of course very little money on me, if he would sell me one of his horses. He shook his head and told me, ‘I have no wish to sell any of my horses, ’ he said. ‘I do not need the money and I like them with me.’,

  “Jokingly I asked how I could tempt him. The Sheik looked at me as if he knew my pockets were empty but at the same time thinking I might be useful to him. ‘I will tell you,’ he said at last, ‘exactly what you can do for me’.”

  “What was that?”

  “I wondered myself. ‘You see that horse over there,’ the Sheik said. He pointed and I saw one of the finest Arab stallions I could have ever imagined.”

  The Earl paused for a moment as if he was looking back into the past and then he said in a dreamy voice,

  “He was a beautiful bay with black points, over fifteen hands high with large pointed ears. He had two white feet and a blaze down his nose.”

  “What price would you have had to pay for him?” Charles enquired.

  “I knew it was something so astronomical that it was a stupid question, but all the same I asked.”

  “And how did the Sheik reply?”

  “He took a little time and then he said, ‘as perhaps you know, I am not entirely a Bedouin. My father was one, which is why I call myself a Sheik. But my mother was half Spanish with, I think, some Egyptian blood in her’.”

  “You must have wondered what this had to do with the stallion,” Charles commented.

  “I did but I was wise enough to keep silent and the Sheik continued, ‘they respect me here, but I am well aware that I am unimportant in comparison to Sheik Abdul Medjvel el Mezrab. He is a Bedouin Chief of one of the largest tribes in Syria and is married to a very beautiful and famous Englishwoman.’”

  The Earl paused as if he was looking back.

  He knew that Charles would remember the extraordinary story of the Lady Jane Digby who had astounded the social world with her beauty.

  She was married first to Lord Ellenborough, who was later to become Governor-General of India. After four years she had left him for an Austrian Prince – a separation which led to one of England’s most scandalous divorce cases.

  However the beautiful Jane was not content with her Prince for long. She in turn left him and moved to the Court of King Ludwig of Bavaria. There she married a Baron only to leave him for a Greek Count and later an Albanian brigand.

  London Society talked of nothing but Jane and her lovers.

  In her forties Jane took the last step which astounded social circles of several countries.

  She
fell wildly in love with a Bedouin Sheik and after marrying him she lived with him in the Syrian Desert.

  She followed her husband into battle in his many tribal wars.

  She was, the Earl was told, still beautiful and admired by almost every man who met her.

  “When the Sheik spoke of her,” the Earl resumed, “I told him that of course I knew the extraordinary history of the beautiful Jane Digby, but asked what it had to do with his horses.

  “‘A great deal, if you are really interested in them’, the Sheik replied. I looked at him finding him hard to follow until he said, ‘because I want to win the same admiration and respect that is paid to Sheik el Mezrab and the only way I can do so, is if I am visited by a Royal Princess and receive her as my guest.’

  “As you can imagine I stared at him in astonishment. I could not believe what he was saying. ‘A Royal Princess!’ I exclaimed, ‘but how could that help you?’

  “‘It would enhance my reputation,’ the Sheik replied, ‘and although the beautiful Lady Jane has married a number of different men, she is not a Princess of the Royal blood. That is what I require.’

  “I could not think what to say to him. It flashed through my mind that if I could take him a Princess to stay in his house, then he would allow me to buy some of his priceless stallions, which in my opinion are worth a great deal more than any Royalty!”

  Charles laughed.

  “I doubt if they would agree with you but at the same time what do you intend to do?”

  “I have not, until now,” the Earl answered, “had the money to buy anything as expensive as an Arab mare or stallion. But now that because my father has become incapable, I have taken complete control of the estate and I find I am a great deal richer than I thought I was!”

  “That is great news,” Charles remarked.

  “Money was being lost because the ground was not fully cultivated and some of our capital was not even invested as it should have been.”

  He paused for a moment before he said, “This may surprise you, Charles, but I am now a rich man with the likelihood of being very much richer still.”

  “I congratulate you.”

  “I don’t want your congratulations. What I want is your assistance in finding and taking a Royal Princess to the Sheik and bringing back at least half-a-dozen horses.”

  Charles gasped audibly but the Earl carried on,

  “I will breed from them and astound the English owners because my horses will be so very much superior to theirs.”

  “It all sounds fantastic, but I cannot think where you are going to find a Royal Princess who will travel with you to Syria. But of course I should be only too thrilled to breed from the Arab horses and run them in all the Classic races.”

  “That is what I definitely intend to do and that is why, Charles, you have to find me a Princess.”

  “Me!” Charles exclaimed. “How on earth do you think I can do that?”

  The Earl looked over his shoulder just to make sure that they were still alone in their corner of the room. A few more members had come into the Club while they were talking, but they were however all clustered round the bow-window.

  “A Princess is a Princess,” he said quietly, “but what we need to find is someone who will impersonate one so convincingly that the Sheik will not be suspicious.”

  “It is impossible,” Charles moaned. “Someone is bound to spot it if we arrive with a Princess who is a phoney.”

  “Why should they?” the Earl objected. “You know as well as I do that Queen Victoria boasts dozens of her family on thrones all over Europe.”

  Charles had to admit this was true.

  “A great number of those young women,” the Earl said, “are cousins and distant relatives. No one had ever heard of them until they were paired off with some Balkan Prince who ruled over a small Principality he did not want the Russians to get their hands on.”

  Charles laughed, yet he could not deny it.

  The Russians had been gradually infiltrating into the Balkans and by causing trouble in small countries and deliberately inciting revolts and uprisings, they had moved in on the pretence of restoring peace.

  It had therefore become a regular resort for the Ruler of an endangered small country to apply to Queen Victoria for help.

  If she sent him an English Princess, it meant that from then on the country became under the protection of Great Britain.

  The Russians, at this moment, had no desire for another war and it was thus quite true to say that where the Union Jack waved, the Russians kept well away.

  Aloud Charles said,

  “I do not know quite what you are suggesting. Do you want me to find a real Princess or an actress to impersonate one and be clever enough to make the Sheik believe in her?”

  “The latter seems to be the only solution,” the Earl responded. “Queen Victoria will certainly not lend one of her precious grandchildren to a mere Sheik.”

  He made an impressive gesture with his hands before he added,

  “No one is going to believe that he has any Royal blood in his veins. In fact if the truth be told, his horses are better bred than he is!”

  Charles chuckled.

  “That I can believe. So what are you asking me to do is to find you a bogus Princess.”

  “She must be pretty, a lady, well-behaved and intelligent enough,” the Earl replied, “to make the Sheik, if no one else, believe her to be Royal.”

  “It sounds impossible,” Charles demurred.

  “Nonsense! I can think of a dozen young women, who, if we took them to Damascus would look like English Royalty amongst a crowd of Bedouins.”

  “I would not like to bet on it, but I am prepared to believe you.”

  The Earl poured them each out another glass of champagne.

  “Now be sensible, Charles, I mean this seriously and I need those horses badly. Can you imagine what a success we would have with first class Arab horses? I can promise you they are far superior to anything I have ever seen in this country.”

  “You are making my mouth water,” Charles complained. “But I can still see it will be very difficult and most young women would think it an insult to be asked to deceive a Sheik.”

  “You can always point out to them what a success Jane Digby is being,” the Earl replied. “And do not forget that her husband, Sheik Abdul Medjvel el Mezrab is in fact an Arab nobleman.”

  “Are there really such things,” Charles asked rather scornfully.

  “I can promise you, his blood is as blue as that of his wife. In fact amongst his own people it is even considered that his marriage is a misalliance.”

  Charles put his hand on his forehead.

  “It is all too complicated for me, but I am still yearning for those horses. Oh, come on, Favin, think of a better way we can acquire them.”

  “I can assure you that there is no other way. Quite frankly I am prepared to buy half-a-dozen if not more, once the Sheik will allow us to do so.”

  “You really think that all we have to do is to produce a Royal Princess?”

  “When the Arabs make up their minds about something, they are determined that in some incredible way their dream will come true.”

  He paused for a moment before he added,

  “In this case my dream will come true too.”

  “I can see that you envisage Brackenshaw Hall in the future will be surrounded by Arab horses and you and I will be riding around like Kings,” Charles teased.

  “I shall feel like Apollo or one of the other Gods once I can get my hands on those horses. Now, come on, Charles, it cannot be so difficult for you to think of some girl who will help us.”

  “I should have thought Irene Grantham might be more helpful that I can be,” Charles ventured.

  As he spoke he realised that he had made a mistake.

  His friend frowned.

  “Whatever happens,” he reacted in a low voice, “it is most important that Irene should not find out what we are plannin
g.”

  “Why ever not?”

  The Earl hesitated before he replied and Charles wondered if he would tell him the truth.

  Then as if he thought it was the best way forward, he remarked,

  “One of the reasons I am anxious to be away from England for a time is that I am walking on dangerous ground and I do not like it.”

  “I can understand that,” Charles said quickly, “and of course I was only joking.”

  “Irene is no joke. In fact to be honest with you, Charles, as you are my oldest friend, she intends by hook or by crook to marry me.”

  “Marry you?” Charles exclaimed. “But she is already married!”

  “Her husband drinks when he is tired and she has even suggested that he might fall from the battlements of his castle which, as you may know, is a very ancient one.”

  Charles stared at him.

  “Fall!” he exclaimed after a moment. “Do you mean – ”

  “It is just a suggestion, but it is something which makes me think it would be a good idea if I left England for some time.”

  Charles had indeed met Irene.

  He had thought that the way she behaved with the Earl was likely to lead to trouble.

  Now he said quickly,

  “In that case the sooner we depart the better.”

  “I agree with you, but it would be quite useless going without our Princess.”

  There was silence.

  Then the Earl pleaded,

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Charles, help me! I need help and it really seems as if the whole idea is a lifebelt thrown to me when I was drowning.”

  Charles drew in his breath.

  He had always been extremely fond of Favin and he realised now that somehow he must help him. A friendship of so many years could not be ignored.

  But for the moment his mind was blank.

  Then as he was about to send up a prayer for help, he had an idea.

  It seemed so preposterous that he did not say it aloud.

  Then, because he knew him so well, the Earl became conscious of his thoughts.

  “You have come up with something. I knew you would, Charles. You have never failed me yet and you have pulled me out of such a lot of trouble since we were first at school together.”