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“True,” he said, ostensibly agreeing with Narayan. “But you must admit that the influence certain members of the nobility have on foreign policy and both the improvement of our colonies and the aim of making them as self-sufficient as possible should not be discounted. Why, I recently debated in the House of Lords in favor of increased spending for the creation of schools and public buildings in the colonies.”

“You sit in the House of Lords?” Raikut asked, a look of starry delight in his eyes.

Francis’s mouth twitched in a way that wasn’t quite a smile. “My family has played a part in governing this nation for many generations.” And because it couldn’t hurt to lay things on as thickly as possible, he added, “My son will sit in the House of Lords someday as well. Just imagine all he could do with the voice he will have.”

To Francis’s surprise, his mother made a clicking sound with her tongue and shook her head. When Francis peeked at her, she rolled her eyes slightly, as if to tell him he’d gone too far and assumed too much.

Narayan narrowed his eyes, as if he had seen through Francis’s boasting and implication as well. “Your son may sit in the House of Lords, but—and I say this as an example only—my friend Raikut’s son will be a raja and master of his own kingdom.”

“Well, to be honest, Fanindra handles most of the administration of our lands for me already,” Raikut said. All eyes at the table darted to him, so he went on to explain, “Fanindra is the son of my late wife.”

“You have children, sir?” Francis’s mother asked.

“Oh, yes, my lady,” Raikut said with a smile. “Quite a few, actually. By my dear, departed wife, and by several concubines.”

“Oh, good heavens,” Aunt Josephine said, nearly falling out of her chair.

Priya shrank in on herself in a way that made Francis see red. She was humiliated, which she absolutely did not deserve to be. Forget all of his arguments about his own lofty titles and positions. Francis glared at Narayan, as if daring him to dismiss the obvious distress it caused Priya to be one of a countless array of women in Raikut’s life.

Narayan frowned, but did not meet Francis’s eyes. Francis only hoped that meant the man saw his side of the argument.

It was an argument that didn’t have a chance to continue, however, as Francis was blindsided by an entirely different problem approaching their table.

“So, this is what you lot have descended to without me to guide you?” his father asked, marching up to the table with a look of righteous fury.

Francis wanted to groan and throw up his hands at Lord Vegas’s untimely appearance. What could the bastard possibly want?

“Father,” he said as politely as possible instead, standing. “What are you doing here?”

Lord Vegas glared at him. “Can I not walk through Hyde Park on my own now? You have me a virtual prisoner in that wretched flat. Should I stay there, trapped behind its walls, without sufficient funds to entertain myself or dress in a manner befitting my station?”

He was after money. Francis guessed as much in an instant. He must have been told that his son and wife were out for a walk in Hyde Park, and he’d come after them to accost them in public, thinking it would back Francis into a corner. Unfortunately, he had succeeded a little too well at that.

“Father, I would like you to meet Maharaja Jitendra Narayan of Koch Bihar and his friend, Raja Jogendra Dev Raikut of Jalpaiguri. And Maharaja Narayan’s daughter, Rani Priya Narayan.” He refused to address Priya by Raikut’s name.

Lord Vegas narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the darker-skinned gentlemen, but still managed to nod curtly and say, “How do you do?”

Francis hurried on with, “This is my father, the Marquess of Vegas.” If his father wanted any further introduction, he would have to do it himself.

“A real marquess?” Raikut said, rising and moving to shake Lord Vegas’s hand. “What a marvel! It is my great pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

Raikut’s enthusiastic reaction was so far from what Francis could have expected in the moment that he nearly burst with laughter. His father certainly didn’t know how to handle the force that was Raikut.

Lord Vegas stammered and flinched as Raikut took his hand and pumped it, and finally managed to say, “Um, er, it is a pleasure to meet you as well?”

“Come, come and join us,” Raikut said, leading Lord Vegas to the table. “Your son has provided an excellent tea for us that has just been served. Please, sit and eat and tell me all about what it means to be a marquess in England.”

Francis was completely stunned by the turn of events. He gave up his chair to his father so that he could sit next to Raikut, moving to stand beside his mother’s chair until someone in the café could bring him another. He exchanged a look with his mother—who was both irritated and intimidated by her husband’s appearance, but also just as flummoxed by Raikut’s reaction as Francis was.

“Of course, being a marquess means that I am among the highest in the land,” Lord Vegas said in answer to Raikut’s question. “My situation at the moment is entirely lamentable, though. My miscreant son has taken everything from me—my home, my fortune, and my reputation.”

“No!” Raikut exclaimed sympathetically. “Tell me it is not so.”

“It is so,” Lord Vegas said, preening more and more with the attention Raikut was giving him. “This devil of mine has shut me out of everything that should be mine.” He glared at Francis.

Narayan narrowed his eyes at Francis, and even Priya had glanced up, startled by Lord Vegas’s revelation.

Francis cleared his throat, desperate to set things straight. “My father transferred our family’s London townhouse into my name of his own volition last year,” he said.

“An action I regret,” Lord Vegas said. Thankfully, he crossed his arms and sat petulantly back in his chair. He might have thought his peevishness was justified, but in fact, it only made him look like an irritated child.

“My father incurred a great deal of debt that I and my brothers have been working to alleviate,” Francis admitted, focusing his explanation on Narayan alone and ignoring his father’s huffs and grunts. “I take obligations toward my family and my responsibility to look after their welfare extremely seriously, sir,” he added, stealing a not-so-covert glance to Priya as he did.

Narayan narrowed his eyes. The man knew what Francis had truly been saying.

The silent discourse between him and Narayan was not the main conversation, though.

“I have enjoyed London immensely so far.” Raikut had moved on in his conversation with Lord Vegas as they took their tea. “But I should like to see so much more of it. What do you believe to be the parts of the city that I should not miss, my lord?” he asked.

“Me?” Lord Vegas blinked rapidly, then smiled at Raikut. “Why, there are a great many historical sights that should not be missed by the foreign traveler on our shores. But I know of a few special attractions that would, no doubt, delight a gentleman of your status.”

Francis wanted to roll his eyes. God only knew where his father would take Raikut.

“That sounds delightful,” Raikut said, as though Lord Vegas had invited him to visit the queen herself. “Are you free this afternoon to take me on a tour of these places?”

Lord Vegas looked surprised and delighted. “I would be happy to, sir,” he said.

He sent Francis a smug grin, as though he believed he had won some sort of argument. As far as Francis was concerned, he could take Raikut all the way to hell. Though that wouldn’t have been entirely fair to Raikut.

“Will you come with us on this afternoon’s tour?” Raikut asked Priya.

Priya—who had remained miserably silent for most of the conversation—looked up as though surprised to be addressed at all. “I—”

“My daughter cannot join this sort of tour,” Narayan interrupted. Francis frowned at the way he’d cut her off, but he grudgingly approved of not allowing her to go anywhere with Lord Vegas. Narayan glanced to Priya and said, “You said you have schoolwork to finish.”


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical