Chapter 33: Veronica Visits

Following the good advice of his older wife, Princess Ayda, the Emir had invited his sister in law, Veronica, now Countess of Bargoed in her own right, to visit the Golden Palace to see just how well her sister and niece lived. While she was impressed by the private Airbus 480, and by the opulence of the harem's appointments, and by the attentiveness of the ubiquitous staff, she really disliked the claustrophobia of knowing that she could not just walk out of the door and stroll down the road to nowhere in particular. It was not that she actually wanted to walk anywhere in the oppressive heat of the Kobekistani summer, rather that she wanted the freedom to choose not to do so.

As Veronica was preparing to dine alone, in her guest room, as a break from the hectic round of dinners with the Emir, her step-mother, her sister and her niece in various combinations, the telephone rang in the guest suite.

"Hullo," she said, wondering who might be telephoning her here.

"Good evening, Countess," said a pleasant tenor voice, "Allow me to introduce myself, since nobody else has seen fit to do so. I am Crown Prince Mustapha, the eldest son of the Emir. We met once at Stapleford Grange many years ago, while I was still at school."

Veronica had only rarely visited her father after his second marriage, but she vaguely remembered an olive-skinned boy resplendent in cricket whites coming in to the Hall after playing at Sandiacre Cricket Club, and the following morning seeing him leaving in his black blazer and cap to go to school. A quick check of her dates left her guessing that he must be in his early twenties now.

"Yes," she replied, "I vaguely remember you. What can I do for you?"

"Well, I understand that you are returning to England soon?"

"I hope to do so in the next two or three days. It is being arranged."

"Before you go, I hope you will do me the honour of dining with me in the Ruby Palace?"

Veronica was about to make an excuse when she thought, 'Noblesse oblige, I suppose, ' and accepted his offer; they would dine that evening.

After dinner they sat on a comfortable sofa and the Prince sat very close to her as they chatted about her plans for Stapleford Grange, which she now owned and he knew well, having lived there for seven years during his schooling in Nottingham.

"Won't modernising it be expensive?" he asked.

"That isn't a problem, thanks to the Emir, your father, and I really hope he lives for ever. He has allowed me to inherit the stipend of a Royal Huntsman, though I shall not be allowed the formal title," she explained.

It was then that she noticed that one arm was resting along the back of the sofa and round her shoulder. The Prince leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She turned her head to look at him and he kissed her lips, pleased that she did not pull away. The next kiss was deeper with her lips opening to let his questing tongue taste hers.

"Such impertinence," Veronica said, but with a smile in her eyes, "I ought to box your ears."

Curling the arm further round her to draw her to him, and lightly stroking her breast with the other hand, the Crown Prince replied, "Threatening violence to the heir to the throne is a very serious offence. I ought to whip you for that, but perhaps we could take into account your lack of knowledge of our customs and let you off with a spanking."

"You wouldn't dare," she said, clearly intending it as a challenge.

Pulling her across his knee, still with no objection from the lady, the Prince raised one hand high in the air.

Slap.

He spanked her very lightly on the arse, somewhat unsure of how far he could take this game, and she looked up at him.