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The sheikh had not called.
Not on the first day, not on the second, not on the third day. When I got to school, the sheikh was still on my mind, and I was struggling with feelings of hurt neglect.
Stepping out of the car, I bid Luke and the chauffeur goodbye. Hurrying towards the entrance, I smoothed my hand down my school jacket and skirt.
“Lady Ella?”
I looked up and fought not to show my dismay when I realized it was the same man that had been pestering me for days. He was an envoy of the Sheikh of Layla, and I instinctively looked over my shoulder, but the royal family’s limousine had long driven away.
"Lord Barton, this is really not a good time to talk—-”
The nobleman handed me a letter. “All I humbly ask is that you take this letter, milady. Please."
“But—-”
“It is only a letter, it’s all our sheikh asks. Surely it’s not too much?”
Alarm bells rang inside my head.
But even so, I reached for the letter.
It was just a letter.
Surely it wouldn't get me into trouble.
Right?