Francis questioned the wisdom of his declaration immediately when Priya glanced up at him with a combination of distress, affection, and guilt. His heart ached in his chest when she removed his hands and stepped away.

“You should know how these things work, my lord,” she said in a cold, broken voice. “Whatever the kingdom and whatever the traditions, people in positions like ours are not at liberty to decide their own fates. Even you cannot deny that marriages of political convenience are made all the time in England too. To break such an arrangement would mean me breaking with my family. I am not willing to do that.”

Francis swallowed, roaring with frustration on the inside. He wanted to argue with Priya, to tell her that love was more important than family, but he couldn’t stand behind that statement. He thought of his own family and the lengths they would go to for each other. He could not ask Priya to do something that he himself would have been unwilling to do.

“I believe there is a way out of this,” he insisted. “I do not think this marriage of yours is legal. I will set to work at once to prove as much. But more than that, I do not believe your father will force you to hold to it when he sees it is not what you want.” And when Narayan saw that an English earl who would one day be a marquess was a better marriage prospect than the one Priya currently had. It might have been arrogant—and painfully British—of him to think so, but he had to cling to that belief to win Priya the way he needed to.

Priya sighed, gazing at him as though she wished for everything he said to be true, but she wasn’t certain it was. “I must go,” she said. “I’ve been away too long as it is.”

“Go then,” Francis said. “But know that I will be working tirelessly to make things right so that you and I can be together.”

Priya looked as though she might burst into tears, but whether they were tears of joy and admiration or tears of misery, he couldn’t tell. Francis wished he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her, but that would have been impossible.

Priya sent him one last, lingering look, then turned to rush back to the stairs without another word. Francis watched her until she disappeared around the corner.

“It seems as though you have your work cut out for you,” Petrus said quietly, stepping up to Francis’s side.

Francis tore his eyes away from the stairs to look at his new friend. He could only reply with an ironic grunt.

Petrus replied with a lopsided smile. “I will help you in whatever way I can,” he said. “I…I have my own reasons for wishing to be of service to you. I hope you will accept my offer of friendship.”

“I will,” Francis answered immediately, turning to shake Petrus’s hand. “Because right now, I feel as though I will need all the help I can get.”


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical