Page List


Font:  

His mother’s expression showed even more surprise. “You were in Brighton over the weekend?”

“Just briefly,” Francis said. “On business. Would you all care to continue your walk with us?” he went on, as smooth as silk. “I was just about to escort my mother and aunt to tea at one of the park’s many, lovely cafés.”

“Your mother and aunt?” Priya’s father asked, though he stared pointedly at Priya as he did instead of at Francis.

Priya feared very much that she had been discovered. Her father had to suspect something. If he suspected too much, Priya was afraid he would take her back to Koch Bihar, no matter whether Jogendra wanted an educated wife or not.

“Yes, we made Miss Narayan’s acquaintance after a meeting in St. James’s Park recently,” Lady Vegas answered, as innocent as a babe.

“What sort of a meeting?” Priya’s father asked, his frown deepening.

“One hosted by Mrs. Pankhurst,” Lady Vegas answered. “Are you familiar with her?”

“No, I’ve never heard the name,” Priya’s father said.

Lady Vegas smiled. “She instructs on how women should behave,” she said.

Priya nearly choked. More surprising, Jogendra burst into loud laughter.

“Please, Lady Vegas,” he said, his smile wide and jolly. “Allow me to escort you as we make our way to this café your son spoke of. I should like to know more about how Mrs. Emmeline Pankhurst believes women should behave.”

The urge to laugh hit Priya so suddenly that she made a strange, squeaking sound instead. Jogendra knew whom Lady Vegas was talking about. It was almost enough to make her want to follow the conversation that the two started as they walked on.

Priya’s father frowned, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d been made a fool of. He fell into step by Lady Dorrington’s side, which left Priya and Francis walking in back.

It took no time at all for Francis to slow their steps to the point where a gap formed between them and the older couples. Better still, Priya’s father seemed more interested in the conversation in front of him than anything going on behind. That gave Francis all the opportunity he needed to widen the gap and give the two of them the tiny shred of space they needed to talk.

“I’m not certain how much time we have,” he said, barely above a whisper, offering Priya his arm so that they could stand closer together.

“We have no time at all,” Priya said, meaning it on more than one level. “What’s done is done.”

Francis shook his head. “It isn’t, my love. I’ve looked into the matter, and your proxy marriage would not be recognized in England. If you asked to be released from it, the law would be on your side here.”

Priya pulled Francis to a stop and stared up at him with wide eyes. She wasn’t certain whether he had just handed her a beautiful gift or if he’d just given her the tools of her own destruction.


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical