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ChapterThree

Francis knew beyond any shadow of doubt that he could not let Miss Narayan walk away from him. He’d thought the woman to be lively and formidable from their first encounter, but listening to her speak, then watching her interact with her brother had confirmed within him that she was precisely the sort of woman he could spend the rest of his days with.

The fact that she’d held her own with her young and cocky brother—a man who was likely as used to the traditional, submissive role that had been foisted on women as Francis himself was, perhaps more so—and come out seeming stronger than ever made Francis smile. And the sense of underlying tension he could so clearly see underpinning Miss Narayan’s strength made him want to take care of her as well.

She stopped and turned slowly back to him when he hinted, as boldly as he could with the high and mighty Maharajakumar Jeetan Narayan standing right there, that he wished to court her. Her expression was a riot of conflict, showing everything from disbelief to anxiety to intrigue. Her friend seemed just as surprised, and as though she had stumbled across a particularly fascinating tennis match.

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Narayan said, facing Francis fully. She pressed a hand to her stomach as well, as if to settle butterflies.

Francis pulled out all the stops of his charm as he smiled at her. He could win her, he knew it, despite the differences of their classes and nationalities. Courtship was the most delightful game a man could play, and Francis was determined to win.

“I merely wish to become better acquainted with you, Miss Narayan,” he said with a slight, careless shrug. He made no attempt to hide the heat of his statement, even with the brother standing by. In fact, he was certain that if Mr. Narayan became upset, he could use that to his full advantage.

“Better acquainted with me?” Miss Narayan took a step back toward him. She likely thought she seemed peevish and offended, but Francis felt the curiosity and attraction pouring off her.

As he predicted, however, Mr. Narayan had something to say about the matter.

“I do not think it advisable for my sister to form any sort of acquaintance with an Englishman,” he said, shifting so that he could stand by his sister’s side in a way that partially blocked her from Francis.

Francis feigned a look of surprise. “You do not think it socially advisable for the daughter and son of the Maharaja of Koch Bihar to foster a connection with the Earl of Cathraiche, and perhaps the family of the Marquess of Vegas in the process?”

The question was the equivalent of tossing a handful of gems on the table to see whether Mr. Narayan was impressed.

Mr. Narayan frowned, the expression betraying his youth for a moment. By Francis’s reckoning, the man couldn’t have been more than twenty.

Miss Narayan had no hesitation at all in reacting to Francis’s gambit.

“Is that what you think is important?” she said, shifting into an aggressive stance. “That you possess some sort of English title that makes you believe it would be in my best interest to fawn all over you?”

Mr. Narayan glanced to his sister as if he thought he should be outraged by her waspishness, but was actually impressed with her instead.

Francis winced slightly. So class was the wrong weapon to wield with Miss Narayan, it seemed. If he was going to win the game with her, he would need to do so in another way.

“I simply believe, madam, that a woman should have the right to choose her company on her own, and that she should not remain beholden to a male relative to do so,” he said.

“Ooh,” Miss Narayan’s friend said quietly, her face lighting as though she’d just witnessed a fascinating magic trick at a carnival side show.

Miss Narayan sent her friend a look as though she were not helping matters, then faced Francis once more. “A woman has every right to choose her own company,” she said, sending her brother a brief glance, as though she were proving the point to him as well. She turned back to Francis and continued with, “And a man must respect if she chooses not to be acquainted with him at all. In my experience, men have a great deal of difficulty grasping that concept.”

“It is because too many men find themselves captivated by a woman’s beauty in a way they find irresistible, Miss Narayan,” Francis said with a heated smile.

He waited to see if flattery would be a useful piece in this particular game. Miss Narayan seemed taken aback by the statement, but perhaps in a way that indicated she had not been complimented on her exceptional beauty nearly enough in the past. That was another part of the situation that was a damn shame, and it was something Francis would seek to correct.

“Beauty is irrelevant when it comes to a woman’s choice of who should be her friend,” Miss Narayan said.

She looked as though she would go on, but her brother interjected with, “This talk of friendship is irrelevant. It is not appropriate for a woman to have male friends of any sort, and any other sort of association with my sister is entirely impossible, my lord.” He bowed slightly to Francis as he finished, but there wasn’t much respect in the gesture.

Francis smiled at him, though, in fact, he found the doggedly determined young man annoying. Someone so young should not have been put in a position of authority over a woman like Miss Narayan.

“What is and is not possible should be determined by the lady in question, should it not?” he asked, returning to his tactic of supporting Miss Narayan’s rights to independence and self-determination.

Mr. Narayan seemed befuddled by Francis’s arguments, as though he disagreed, but did not know how to assert himself against an older, English earl to refute them. Miss Narayan’s eyes went wide with surprise and a hopeful sort of softness came over her as she reassessed Francis. Miss Narayan’s friend seemed on the edge of giggles as she watched the exchange.

But the entire conversation was thrown in a different direction when Francis spotted his mother and Aunt Josephine striding across the park toward their group.

“Mother, Aunt Josephine, what a surprise to see you in St. James’s Park this evening,” he said, speaking up to address the two women—and to warn Miss Narayan who they were before they had fully joined their group.

Inwardly, Francis cursed. He never should have told his mother where he was going earlier. Surely, she was here to assess his marriage plans and to meddle.

“Francis,” his mother greeted him with a matronly smile. She turned that smile on Mr. and Miss Narayan, but focused on Miss Narayan’s friend. “Who are your charming young friends?”

Francis cleared his throat, shuffling slightly in his place. His mother’s means of addressing him made him feel as though he were as young and green as Mr. Narayan all of a sudden.

“This is Maharajakumar Jeetan Narayan, from Koch Bihar.” He introduced Mr. Narayan first, using his full name and title in an attempt to butter the man up. “And this is his sister, Rani Priya Narayan.”

Miss Narayan’s eyes flared wide at the way Francis referred to her—either because she didn’t realize he already knew her given name or because he’d called her a rani outright.

“And I am afraid I do not know Miss Narayan’s friend’s name,” he added, sending the friend an apologetic look.

“Oh?” Francis’s mother glanced to him with a look of surprise. To the others, Francis’s statement would be taken as an admission of his social mistake. To his mother, it was a declaration of which of the two women he was interested in.

“I am Miss Charlotte Sloane,” Miss Narayan’s friend introduced herself, adding a practiced curtsy for Francis’s mother. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Vegas.”

Francis’s mouth twitched into a grin for Miss Sloane. She must have been clever to have deduced who his mother was from the sparse clues he’d given her. Still, it was appropriate for him to continue for Mr. and Miss Narayan’s benefit with, “May I introduce my mother, the Marchioness of Vegas, and my aunt, the dowager Countess of Dorrington.”

“My lady, my lady,” Mr. Narayan said, immediately bowing to both women. “It is a pleasure.”


Tags: Merry Farmer Historical