Some Enchanted Evening

ChapterTen

Anap did not help Priya’s situation. Particularly as it was extraordinarily difficult to nap with Charlotte sitting on the end of her bed, rhapsodizing about how romantic it was for Francis to travel all the way to Brighton because he was concerned about Priya. And, of course, chattering incessantly about how lovely and kind Prince Petrus was to take such an interest in her and the children. Priya found it easy to steer the conversation along those tracks and to avoid her own romantic concerns entirely after the first few minutes.

Even after Charlotte returned to her own room to prepare for supper, Priya could not rest. She lay down and closed her eyes, but the images that danced behind her eyelids were those of Francis’s handsome face and the look of concern he wore as she tried and mostly failed to reveal all the reasons why the two of them could not be together.

He was a bounder for following her all the way to Brighton—and how did he discover where she’d gone so quickly? He must have been on the very next train to depart London after hers—but as frustrated as she was with his appearance, a part of her had rejoiced.

At least Francis didn’t make her feel alone. Unlike so many others in her life, he didn’t make her feel as though she were a tool to accomplish a task instead of a person in her own right. He listened to her, even if it was so that he could find a way to debate her. He was attentive to her, even if that was so that he could spin her head and convince her to capitulate to him. He saw her, whereas she had been invisible to so many others.

Would it be so very wrong to abandon her responsibilities and her scruples in order to have a bit of romance in her life? Even if it was a temporary thing before her father dragged her back to Koch Bihar and her fate—which he surely would, and soon. He was already on his way. If she let Francis woo and win her, even if it didn’t last, at least she would have memories to take with her into the life that awaited her.

By the time she had given up on sleep and changed into her dinner gown, Priya had decided that yes, it would be very wrong to indulge in a fantasy, even if it was a beautiful one. She frowned at herself in the mirror of her room’s dressing table and silently told herself so as she styled her hair. She fastened the ridiculous brooch from Jogendra Raikut to her bodice as if to underscore the point, then left her room to collect Charlotte and make her way down to supper.

Charlotte gasped at the ostentatious brooch. “Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes wide. “It looks priceless.”

“I’m certain it is,” Priya said, her jaw tight with the effort to keep her resolve to honor her responsibilities. “It was a gift.”

“Who would give someone a gift so grand?” Charlotte asked.

Priya sent her a sideways look, deeply reluctant to answer.

Blessedly, she was saved from having to lie—or worse still, tell the truth—as they reached the ground floor of the hotel and found Francis and Prince Petrus waiting to escort them into the restaurant.

There was no blessing in the way Priya’s heart fluttered and yearned at the sight of Francis, though. He had changed for supper and shaved, and as he stood before her, he looked like some sort of knight out of a fairy story. She wouldn’t have been surprised if his skin had been tinged blue, like Krishna’s. The man had all the grace and bearing of a god. How could she resist a god?

“Miss Narayan, you look simply radiant this evening,” Francis said as he and Prince Petrus stepped forward to meet Priya and Charlotte at the base of the stairs. “You shine brighter than the stars.” He offered his arm to her along with the sweet words.

“And you, Miss Sloane, are glowing this evening in a way that would make the sun jealous,” Prince Petrus said.

The only thing that saved Priya from breaking into tears of frustration and running away to avoid the pain of that perfect moment was the way Charlotte snorted and laughed at the prince’s compliment. Charlotte clapped a hand to her face as soon as the unladylike sound made it out of her.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “It’s just that no one has ever complimented me in such a beautiful way.” She took hold of Prince Petrus’s offered arm.

Priya hesitated, but there was no polite way for her to not take Francis’s arm and to allow him to move her forward. She noted the way Francis and the prince glanced at each other, as if they were coconspirators congratulating each other on their conquests. That, too, helped to settle Priya. She was not a part of some romantic, tragic myth of the gods. She was an ordinary woman in a difficult situation, dealing with ordinary men who thought they might have a bit of fun. She could make it through one evening.

As soon as they entered the restaurant and approached the huge table at the back that the Sloanes had commandeered, Priya questioned her resolve.

“My, my,” Mrs. Sloane said, clapping her hands together and pressing them over her heart. “Don’t the two of you look stunning together.”

It would have been wonderful if Mrs. Sloane had been talking about Charlotte and Prince Petrus, but the woman’s gaze seemed fixed on Priya and Francis.

Worse still, as Francis helped Priya into a seat at the table beside the one that he would surely claim, Mr. Sloane winked at him and said, “I expect an invitation to the wedding, young man. That will be quite the social event. I’m certain to make all sorts of advantageous connections for my brood. Right, Charlotte?”

Charlotte was too busy smiling up at Prince Petrus as he helped her into a seat across the table from Priya, then sat himself.

“Maybe we can make it a double wedding, eh?” Mr. Sloane laughed on as he sat at the head of the table.

“I’m not certain that is entirely up to me,” Francis said, answering the crass jest in the politest way possible.

Priya winced, praying for patience. If Jeetan knew how socially ignorant the Sloanes were, he would never have let her associate with Charlotte again, let alone go on holiday with her. If her father got wind of what sort of people Priya had come to love dearly, he would surely whisk her back to Koch Bihar in an instant.

“Has something upset you, Miss Narayan?” Francis murmured near Priya’s ear as the hotel’s staff came around to fill their wine glasses and serve the first course.

Priya sent him a flat look. “I will allow you to answer that question for yourself, Lord Cathraiche.”

She’d intended her sharp response as a set-down, but instead, Francis laughed. The sound was low and intoxicating, and it did nothing to ease Priya’s nerves or support her resolve to make it through the evening without losing her heart completely.

“I’ve been thinking of purchasing property along the waterfront here in Brighton,” Mr. Sloane opened the conversation as the younger Sloanes launched themselves at the savory dishes placed in front of them. “I adore hotels such as this, so why not build one for myself?”

“Brighton is a popular spot for holidaymakers, if I am to understand correctly,” Prince Petrus said.

The conversation was off and running from there, and Priya couldn’t bring herself to pay attention to a single word of it. She could barely breathe or taste the food that was brought out to her, though she knew it to be excellent. All she could do was feel Francis’s presence beside her, smell the light, spicy scent of his cologne, and dream of everything that could have been if her father had not already given her life away.

Dreaming was bad enough, but Francis was far too attentive as supper moved on for her heart to stand it.

“Would you like to try some of this sauce with your fish, Miss Narayan?” he asked, offering to serve Priya from the small tureen between them. “It’s very good.”

Priya sent him a weak smile in return. “Yes, please,” she said. At home, she would have been served what her father wanted her to eat without consideration for her tastes.

“Is it acceptable for you to eat fish or meat at all, Miss Narayan?” Prince Petrus asked with genuine curiosity. “I have heard that Hindus abstain from eating meat.”