But, oh, how she wanted to break free of those obligations and be her own woman. Just like Francis claimed he believed she should. She still wasn’t entirely certain about his true feelings on matters of women’s independence, but she hoped with all her heart that he held those progressive viewpoints in earnest.

As soon as Francis was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear them, Charlotte turned to Priya, grasped her arm with one hand, and squealed while jumping up and down. “Oh, Priya, this is wonderful,” she said, giggling giddily. “Lord Cathraiche is ever so charming. And devilishly handsome too. There is nothing better than a charming and handsome earl.”

“He will be a marquess one day,” Priya said, though she cursed herself for playing into her friend’s fantasies as she did.

“Even better,” Charlotte exclaimed breathlessly. She let out a dreamy sigh, smiled up at the autumn sky, then sighed, “I shall be the friend of a countess, and then a marchioness. Won’t Papa be pleased. I’m certain he will do his utmost to put me in the path of a viscount at the very least after this.”

“Charlotte, dear, I cannot let Lord Cathraiche pursue me,” Priya said, hating every word and wincing internally over them. “I most certainly cannot marry him either.”

“But why not?” Charlotte asked, blinking as though baffled. “You are Hindustani royalty. He is British aristocracy. It isn’t like me, the lowly daughter of an industrialist who was born in the hamlet of Prickwillow.”

“You are perfectly lovely, Charlotte,” Priya said, meaning it, but also hoping to change the conversation.

“And you are worthy of an earl,” Charlotte turned the tables on her. She grasped Priya’s free hand with her own and said, “Oh, Priya, this is a wonderful thing, to be sure. You will be so happy with Lord Cathraiche, I just know it.”

Priya pulled her hand away and swallowed hard, suddenly near tears. “It cannot be,” she said, her voice too emotional for her liking. “My father would never allow it, for so many reasons.”

Charlotte sucked in a breath. “Yes, you were saying that you’d had a letter from your father. What does he have to say?”

Priya opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat. Charlotte deserved to know the truth, but at the same time, she would be so disappointed.

“He is on his way to England,” she said, telling the truth, but leaving out most of it. She turned to hook her arm through Charlotte’s walking back to the path so they could continue on their way to lunch. “He should be here soon. Very soon. And he…he has very strong ideas about my future.”

Charlotte made a scoffing sound. “Fathers are like that. My Papa has lofty ideas as well. He tells me he won’t settle for me marrying a common man, I must marry someone extraordinary.”

“So, you understand, then.” Priya brightened slightly.

Charlotte giggled. “Lord Cathraiche is an extraordinary man.”

Priya rolled her eyes. Mostly, she felt guilty about all the ways she was about to disappoint Charlotte. And herself.

“If it is the matter of race, I’m certain Lord Cathraiche’s wealth and connections could overcome that,” Charlotte said with a shrug. “Though I have heard rumors that the Rathborne-Paxton family is skint and even more rumors that they are in search of wealthy brides to restore the family fortune. You do have a sizable dowry, don’t you?”

“I did, but—”

“Then I fail to see the problem,” Charlotte said with a smile.

“I see a great many problems,” Priya sighed.

“Well, if facing your father is so terrifying, you should escape to Brighton with me and my family next weekend,” Charlotte went on.

Priya’s brow went up. “Brighton?”

“Yes. Mama adores the place. Papa likes to spend his money on fancy hotels. The entire family goes for holidays there several times during the year. You truly should come with us.” Charlotte hugged her arm tighter.

“Perhaps I’ll consider it,” Priya said.

She wasn’t certain if she truly could. Not only would her father not approve of her leaving London for the weekend, Jeetan would never let her run off with a family he hadn’t met. Although, if she introduced her brother to the Sloanes….

No, it would never work. Priya shook her head to clear her mind of the thought. She couldn’t brush her troubles with Francis under the carpet by running away from him. He would still be there when she returned to London. The only possible solution to the problem Francis presented was to break his heart—and her own—by turning him down outright. As much as she grieved over the idea in advance, it was the only possible course of action. Somehow, she would have to find the strength to tell Francis outright that she could never be his…and she would have to tell him why.


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical