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ChapterTwelve
Priya had made so many mistakes that she didn’t know how to start counting them. She had made the mistake of thinking she could get away with one night of passion with Francis that she could carry with her as a memory forever, but that memory was now marred by the arrival of her father, brother, and husband. Not only that, the fear that they would discover the truth about what had happened and punish her for it followed her through the rest of the weekend and all the way back up to London on Monday. It was almost worse that her father hadn’t discovered the truth immediately, because she felt the possibility of that discovery hanging over her with every move she made.
Stealing a memory with Francis wasn’t the only mistake she had made. She’d been terribly foolish to entertain his suit at all. She should have put a stop to Francis’s pursuit right from the beginning. As she looked back on things while staring out the train window as she made the journey back to London with the men in her life, counting the raindrops that spattered against the train’s window as she did, she could see that she hadn’t put as much effort into rebuffing Francis as she should have because she’d been too enamored with him.
She should have been honest with Francis from the start about Jogendra. That was her other mistake. She should have let everyone in England—at college and in her limited social world—know that a marriage had taken place in Koch Bihar that meant her life would never been the same. She should have changed her name to Raikut, or at least explained to those she met what calling her “rani” truly meant.
By the time they reached London, just as the sun was setting and she could make an excuse to take herself straight to bed instead of joining the men for supper, Priya was beginning to think it had been a mistake for her to come to England to further her education in the first place. She should have stayed at home, resigning herself to her fate, instead of reaching for more than she could ever have.
“Your spirits look greatly depressed this morning, my dear,” Jogendra said to her at breakfast on Tuesday morning, as they all gathered for a meal that had been prepared and served by the Bengali servants Priya’s father had brought with him—much to the distress of the English servants, who probably feared their jobs were at risk.
Priya attempted to smile at her husband. She still couldn’t believe that was what Jogendra was now, despite being sent a full account of the proxy ceremony, along with a copy of the marriage certificate, when it had happened.
“I suppose I am just tired after a busy weekend,” she said as politely as she could. It was not Jogendra’s fault that they were wed now. Jogendra had always been kind and jolly with her. He was a nice man who enjoyed life.
“Holidays are meant to lift one’s spirits, not depress them,” he said, his enjoyment of life showing in his smile. “Perhaps it would help if you helped me to enjoy my holiday in England.”
Alarm raced through Priya so fast it took her breath away. What could Jogendra mean by that? She desperately hoped it wasn’t what she thought he meant. He was her husband now, and if he demanded that she do her duty as his wife, she would have no choice but to do so. And after giving herself to Francis the way she had, not only was the idea of going to bed with someone else repulsive, Jogendra would quickly discover his bride was not pure. Jogendra was kind and sunny, but would he still be so if he knew the truth?
“I would very much like a tour of London,” he said, his expression brimming with excitement. “This is my first visit, but I have read about the magnificent sights and attractions of the city since I was a boy. My heart swims with joy at the thought of St. Paul’s Cathedral and Westminster Abbey. You must take me through all the royal parks in London as well. Hyde Park will be like a glimpse of Nirvana to me.”
Priya was so relieved that she nearly burst into tears. “You want me to take you on a walk through Hyde Park?”
“Most definitely,” Jogendra said, beaming. “We should find ourselves a barouche and drive on Rotten Row, as they did in the days of the Prince Regent.”
“I…I would like that.” Priya was cautious in her acceptance of the request. “I do have schoolwork that I need to finish before tomorrow.”
“No schoolwork,” her father said with a wave of his hand. He had been listening to the conversation from the head of the table, and Priya wasn’t certain he approved. “I had my reservations about sending you to London with your brother, and those reservations have advanced to outright doubt. I do not think it wise for you to continue this education of yours. It has spoiled your mind and—”
“Nonsense!” Jogendra exclaimed, startling everyone at the table. Jeetan even choked on his patishapta and had to reach for tea to wash it down. “I told you from the start, Jitendra, that I want an educated woman for my wife. It is a very British thing to have.”
Jogendra glanced to Priya and winked. Priya’s mouth dropped open, but she wasn’t certain what to make of the gesture. He could have been conspiring with her to keep her in school, which would be wonderful, or he could be flirting with her. She reached for her tea, as Jeetan had, and took a few swallows to clear the sick feeling of Jogendra flirting with her.
Her father frowned at Jogendra as if he were one of the children. “This is a dangerous idea, my friend,” he said. “Education rots a woman’s mind. I would never have consented to send Priya to London along with Jeetan in the first place if you had not insisted on it.”
Priya nearly choked on her tea. She was there in London because of Jogendra?
As much as the thought made her warm to Jogendra, it made her despair as well. Her husband had taken an interest in her. He would not let her go now.
“I should like to visit your college soon,” Jogendra said, smiling as always, as breakfast concluded. “I want to see what sort of a marvelous, British place has the foresight to teach women as men are taught.”
“They aren’t taught the same way at all, Kahkah-ji,” Jeetan spoke up, referring to Jogendra respectfully. “They are instructed in ways that are appropriate for their lesser minds.”
Priya glared at her brother, but before she could defend herself, Jogendra said, “Women do not have lesser minds, young man. And the sooner you discover that, the better off you will be in life.” He then smiled graciously at Priya.
Francis would have liked Jogendra. Priya was certain of it. The two of them would have gotten along and shared so many views. It was a beautiful, terrible thing not to hate the man who would take her away from Francis, though. If only Jogendra had been old and awful, it would have been so much easier to know how she should feel about her fate.
“I will fetch my hat and parasol, and we can go to Hyde Park,” she said softly, rising from the table.
“Take your time, beti,” Jogendra said, addressing her in the same diminutive way her father did. “I wish to have a word with the cooking staff. Why are we eating patishapta and kachori when we are in London? We should be having eggs and sausages and toast with beans.”
Priya left the men behind to argue about breakfast amongst themselves. She wondered how Francis would react to the silly argument.
She wondered what it would have been like to wake up in Francis’s arms—after that night in the hotel or any morning of whatever fantasy life they could have had together. She wondered what Francis was having for breakfast that very morning. He hadn’t been in the hotel when she, her father, Jeetan, and Jogendra had joined the rest of the Sloane family for breakfast on Saturday morning.
Poor Charlotte had been shocked and devastated at the announcement that Jogendra was her husband. Charlotte had been acutely aware of other things too, even though Priya hadn’t told her anything. Apparently, her father and Jogendra had arrived and revealed the truth to all before supper in the dining room had finished. Mr. Sloane had insisted that the new arrivals join the family for pudding, but Charlotte had excused herself. She’d gone up to her room and peeked into Priya’s adjoining room, only to discover she hadn’t been there.
