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“Many reasons,” Priya repeated. She was well aware of Charlotte’s teasing grin and the way her friend had clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter in check. “My father would now allow it, for one.”
“Why not?”
Priya was ready to throw her hands up…or perhaps throw Anne out the train window. “It is complicated, beti,” she sighed. “It is a matter for grown people.”
“Wh—”
“Why don’t we all play a game?” Priya cut Anne off before she could ask why yet again. “What do you see out the window that is red?”
The diversion worked to distract Anne’s attention—and to keep Charlotte from being beaned with her brothers’ cricket ball. It also meant that any further conversation on the matter of Francis would be impossible.
By the time the train pulled into the Brighton station, Priya was exhausted.
“You are a saint for taking these rascals in your compartment,” Mrs. Sloane said once they had all disembarked from the train. Mr. Sloane and Charlotte’s oldest brother directed the porters to transport their baggage to one of two carriages they’d hired to take them to the hotel on the waterfront. “Do they have saints in India?” Mrs. Sloane asked Priya in an overly loud voice, looking terrified at the possibility of offending her guest.
“In a manner of speaking,” Priya said, dodging a few of the younger children as they raced around their mother, shrieking. “Though not quite in the same way as—”
“Tommy! Stop that at once! Leave your sister alone!” Mrs. Sloane shouted, effectively ending the explanation.
“Mama, perhaps Miss Narayan and I could walk to the hotel from here,” Charlotte said, her mouth twitching with her efforts not to laugh.
“What was that, dear?” Mrs. Sloane asked, twisting this way and that as if to keep track of all her children.
“Miss Narayan and I are going to walk to the hotel,” Charlotte restated her request. She grabbed Priya’s arm and started off with her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“What? Oh. No, of course not. Alistair!”
Priya didn’t know whether to laugh or to be horrified by Mrs. Sloane’s distraction. Or by the way she let her and Charlotte wander off unchaperoned. Priya was grateful Jeetan wasn’t there to see the woman’s promise to keep her accompanied at all times broken so quickly. Though it could be argued that as long as she and Charlotte were together, they could chaperone each other.
That theory was put to the test less than a minute later, as Priya and Charlotte stepped right into the path of a handsome young gentleman who was making his way toward the exit door at the same time. The three of them nearly collided in their haste to depart the station.
“I beg your pardon, ladies,” the gentleman said, doffing his hat elegantly, then standing aside to hold the door for them. “After you, please.”
Priya was struck by the man’s accent. It was familiar, but unusual at the same time.
“Oh! I know you,” Charlotte gasped as the three of them made their way out to the crisp Brighton sunshine. “You’re Prince Petrus of Aegiria. We met briefly at the theater last month. Do you remember? I’m Miss Charlotte Sloane.”
Priya gaped at her friend’s audacity as she held out her hand to the man. He couldn’t possibly be a prince, could he?
“Miss Sloane,” Prince Petrus said, actually taking Charlotte’s hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “I do remember you.” He turned to Priya. “I believe Miss Sloane has already inadvertently introduced me,” he added for her.
“This is my friend, Miss Priya Narayan,” Charlotte made the introduction with a wide smile. “She’s a rani from Hindustan.”
“Miss Narayan.” Prince Petrus bowed over her hand, as respectful as the prince she supposed he was. When he straightened, he turned to Charlotte and asked, “Do you ladies require a conveyance to take you to your hotel? I could hail a cab for you.”
“Oh, we’re walking,” Charlotte said, beaming at the prince as though he were some sort of treat. She gasped slightly, then said, “Do you want to walk with us?”
Priya tried not to gape. Jeetan most certainly would not approve of the turn her holiday had already taken.
“Where is your destination?” Prince Petrus asked.
“The Grand Hotel,” Charlotte answered with an excited smile, as if announcing a victory.
Prince Petrus burst into a smile. “That is where I am staying as well. Would you allow me to escort you?”
“I’m not certain—” Priya began.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Charlotte answered over top of her.
Priya sent her friend a sidelong look. That look softened a moment later when she noted how Charlotte’s eyes sparkled as she gazed at the prince. It struck her that perhaps she wasn’t the only one with a romantic entanglement at the moment.
“The two of you have met before?” she asked as the three of them started down the slope of Queen Street, toward the waterfront.
“Yes,” Charlotte said, slightly breathless. “It was at the Concord Theater, that night when Nannette D’Argent startled everyone by revealing she wasn’t French at all.”
“It was quite a memorable night,” Prince Petrus agreed, smiling at Charlotte. He walked a few steps to the side of Priya and Charlotte, who hooked their arms together as friends, so that they could dodge the foot traffic along the busy street.
“I shall certainly never forget it,” Charlotte said, blushing, and for more reasons than the brightness of the sun. “Wasn’t it romantic the way Mr. Rathborne-Paxton stepped up to defend and propose to her?”
Priya suddenly wished she’d agreed to go to the theater with Charlotte that evening, but she said nothing. She had a feeling she would be a bystander in the conversation that was about to take place.
That supposition was challenged a few minutes later, as they crossed the point where Queen Street turned into West Street, when Prince Petrus asked, “Are you acquainted with the Rathborne-Paxton family at all?”
Priya swallowed.
Charlotte’s eyes glowed with mischief. “Priya is,” she said. She then leaned closer to Prince Petrus and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Lord Cathraiche fancies Miss Narayan.”
Priya would have dragged her friend aside and scolded her if they weren’t in public. Particularly as her statement made Prince Petrus suddenly pay acute attention to her.
“Are you quite familiar with the family?” he asked. “Are you at all acquainted with Lord Vegas?”
It was not the question Priya expected, and she blinked in confusion. “I have not met the man, no.” She hurried on with, “Please do not let my friend’s statement make more of the connection I have with Lord Cathraiche. We are acquaintances, that is all. I am not at liberty to give my heart away to anyone.”
Charlotte made a scoffing noise and rolled her eyes.
