Priya sat a bit straighter. For a moment, she pursed her lips before letting out a breath and admitting, “I do.” She followed that by glancing at Francis with a look of apology and regret.
It was likely that she did have schoolwork to finish. It was also likely that she wished to spend more time with Francis, perhaps untangling the knot they’d found themselves faced with.
Either way, it gave Francis hope. Priya had not given up on them, and more importantly, she had not given up on herself. All Francis needed was time to sort things out.
The rest of tea passed in a blur. Francis was too busy racking his brain for ways to convince Narayan that he was a better choice than Raikut for Priya’s husband, and if that failed, to convince Priya to stand up for herself, even if it meant losing her family. He couldn’t, in good conscience, truly support that last outcome, though. There had to be a better way.
At last, they finished their tea, Raikut departed with Lord Vegas, and Narayan escorted Priya home, barely giving them a chance to say goodbye. Only when Francis was left walking his mother and Aunt Josephine back toward Mayfair was Francis able to let out the breath he’d been holding throughout the entire confrontation.
“You did not tell me Miss Narayan was married,” his mother said once the three of them were walking alone.
“I did not know she was married until very recently,” Francis said. “And besides, it is not a full, legal marriage.”
“Oh?” His mother’s interest was piqued, but Francis could tell she was frustrated with him.
“The wedding itself was conducted by proxy,” he said. “Priya was not present for it. And she has had no marital contact with Raikut at all.”
“And just how would you know that?” his mother asked in a warning voice.
Francis felt his face and neck heat. He avoided embarrassment by rushing on with, “I am determined to break the marriage, seeing as it is not legal and Priya does not want it. The only husband my beloved will have is me.”
They hadn’t quite reached the edge of Hyde Park, but his mother stopped and turned to face him. Her brow was etched into a frown, and she took her time before saying, “I know that you fancy yourself in love with the woman—”
Francis opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t fancy at all, but his mother held up her hand to stop him.
“I like Miss Narayan very much. Nothing would make me happier than if you were able to extract her from this proxy marriage to that strangely delightful man.”
Aunt Josephine sniggered. “He was quite droll, wasn’t he?”
Francis’s mother hummed, then went on with. “I will do whatever is necessary to prevent yet another woman from ending up as part of a marriage that she does not want and that does not suit her. No woman should have to endure what I did. But, Francis, I must caution you. Their ways are not our ways. You cannot win this battle simply by being English.”
“I will win this battle, Mother, because I love Priya and she loves me,” Francis insisted.
His mother hummed again, then glanced to Aunt Josephine, as if they both knew how silly Francis was being.
When she finally glanced back at him, his mother said, “I do believe you love her, but you must be cautious in winning her and have patience. The poor girl has more to lose than you do.”
Francis was well aware of the fact.
“I know, Mother,” he said, squeezing her hand. “That is why I intend to win her in such a way that we both gain everything and lose nothing.”
He only hoped he could figure out how to go about doing that.