Cometh the Hour (The Clifton Chronicles 6)

“That wouldn’t be possible.”

When the curtain finally fell, Seb joined in the ten-minute standing ovation, and Margot Fonteyn received so many curtain calls and bouquets she could have opened a flower shop. As they left the auditorium, he took Priya’s hand as they strolled back to the restaurant, but she seemed nervous and didn’t speak. Once coffee had been served, Priya said, “Thank you for a wonderful evening. Being with you was like seeing Swan Lake for the first time. I haven’t enjoyed a performance so much in a long time.” She hesitated.

“But something is worrying you.”

“I’m a Hindu.”

Seb burst out laughing. “And I’m a Somerset yokel, but it’s never worried me.”

She didn’t laugh. “I don’t think I can come to the theatre with you, Seb.”

“But why not?”

“I’m frightened of what might happen if we see each other again.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I told you my father had to return to India.”

“Yes, I assumed on business.”

“Of a kind. My mother has spent the past few months selecting the man I will be expected to marry, and I think she’s made her final choice.”

“No,” said Seb, “that can’t be possible.”

“All that’s needed now is my father’s approval.”

“You have no choice, no say in the matter?”

“None. You have to understand, Seb, it’s part of our tradition, our heritage and ou

r religious beliefs.”

“But what if you were to fall in love with someone else?”

“I would still have to honor my parents’ wishes.” Seb leaned across the table to take her hand, but she quickly withdrew it. “I will never forget the night I saw Swan Lake with you, Seb. I will cherish the memory for the rest of my life.”

“And so will I, but surely…” But when he looked up, like the black swan, she had disappeared.

17

“SO HOW DID last night go?” asked Jenny, as she placed two eggs in a saucepan of warm water.

“It couldn’t have been much worse,” Priya replied. “Didn’t work out at all as I’d planned.”

Jenny turned around to see her friend on the verge of tears. She rushed across, sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder. “That bad?”

“Worse. I liked him even more the second time. And I blame you.”

“Why me?”

“Because if you’d agreed to come to the ballet with me, none of this would have happened.”

“But that’s good.”

“No, it’s awful. At the end of the evening I walked out on him, after telling him I never wanted to see him again.”

“What did he do to make you so angry?”