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ChapterSixteen
Priya held her breath, clasping her free hand to her stomach as Jogendra stood and interrupted Francis’s declaration. The potential outcome of what she suspected Francis would say was terrifying enough, but the way Jogendra’s expression lit with alarm and the way Lady Vegas’s guests gasped left Priya feeling as though she might swoon.
“This is not the end,” Jogendra insisted, edging his way down the row of chairs to make it to the aisle, bumping some of the other guests as he went. “I will not allow it.”
“Do not worry, my love,” Francis murmured close to her ear. “I will not let him harm you in any way.”
Priya made a sound, though whether she was expressing fear or gratitude, she didn’t even know herself. All she could do was edge to the side and stare at Jogendra with wide eyes, afraid this was the end of her love for Francis, the end of her days of freedom…or perhaps the end of her connections to her family forever.
But as Jogendra reached the piano, smiling broadly at Priya, he said, “I cannot allow this to be the end of this evening’s entertainments. Why, I myself have not been given an opportunity to perform, and I have always wanted to stand up and sing at an event such as this.”
Priya nearly stumbled as the surprise of Jogendra’s statement had her reeling back. “You wish to sing?” she asked in a wobbly voice.
“Yes, of course,” Jogendra said, still beaming. “I would not object if you wanted to sing a duet with me, as you performed so beautifully with Lord Cathraiche just now. I had no idea you were such an accomplished actress, my dear.”
Another strange sound escaped Priya’s lips before she could form it into the words, “Thank you.” Jogendra had believed her performance with Francis was simply that, a performance? “I think I have performed enough for one evening,” she said, declining Jogendra’s offer. “In fact, I think I may need a glass of water to soothe my throat after….” She let her sentence fade off and glanced to Francis for support.
“I will assist you, Miss Narayan,” Francis said. He placed a hand on the small of Priya’s back and began to escort her to the side of the room.
“Priya,” her father said in a warning voice.
When Priya whipped her head to face him, she found him scowling at her. But she wasn’t the only one who turned to look at him. Half of the room now stared at her father with looks of curiosity.
For a moment, Priya thought her father would disregard the audience and scold her in public. At the last minute, he seemed to relent. He let out a breath and pressed his lips shut. More than that, he peeked around the room, as if assessing who among the high and mighty was watching him to see how he would react.
“Do not worry, Maharaja Narayan,” Francis said, sending her father a charming smile that was blatantly for the benefit of his mother’s guests. “I will take care of your daughter.” Francis let the words hang in the air and gain more importance for a moment before continuing with, “The refreshment table is just over there. We will be in your sight the entire time, and in the sight of all of my mother’s guests.”
That seemed to satisfy Priya’s father, but it also made Priya realize that she wouldn’t be able to have any sort of private conversation with Francis. And after the duet they’d just sung, all she wanted was a moment alone with Francis to tell him how ardently she loved him and how desperate she was for the two of them to find a way to be together.
Francis escorted her around the side of the audience, to a long table against one wall that held what appeared to be punch, as well as a selection of tarts and cakes. From the expression on his face, he was intent on resolving things between the two of them, or at least declaring himself more specifically to her. But the strains of the piano began behind them, and just as Francis opened his mouth to speak, Jogendra started to sing.
Both Priya and Francis froze instantly in the middle of their steps and jerked back around to listen to Jogendra. His voice was magnificent. It was the very last thing that Priya had expected, but the deep, baritone strains of Jogendra’s voice were rich and sweet enough to rival even the most experienced tenor of the operatic stage. More than just that, he lifted his voice in perfect Italian, singing a Puccini aria.
Priya couldn’t help but gape and watch. Jogendra was in his element as he poured out the strains of his song. He held everyone in the room in the palm of his hand for the entire duration of the song. Even Francis seemed astounded by the man’s talent. It was astonishing.
It was devastating. Priya’s heart sank as Jogendra finished the aria and accepted the applause of Lady Vegas’s guests. The whole point of her singing with Francis—or so she gathered, having had no time to discuss the plan with her beloved—was to cause the audience, her father, and especially Jogendra to fall in love with the idea of her and Francis together. But with his opening notes, Jogendra had firmly won everyone in the room over to his side.
Once again, her plan to extract herself from the marriage she’d never wanted so that she could enter one that she longed for was thwarted by the surprising brilliance of her husband.
Her father seemed to know it, too. As the applause died down, Priya caught him grinning at her with a degree of smugness that Priya hadn’t thought was possible.
“I cannot believe this,” Priya breathed out on a stunned sigh. “Father must have known.”
“He may have won this battle, but he will not win the war,” Francis insisted.
As the rest of the guests rose and surged forward to congratulate Jogendra—and, strangely enough, to speak to her father—Francis drew her the rest of the way to the refreshment table. With everyone suddenly moving about the room, they would have no real time for a conversation, but perhaps they could exchange the words that needed to be said.
“I still intend to win you in the end,” Francis said, pouring a cup of punch for her. “This changes nothing. Raikut might be charming and talented, but he does not love you as I love you.”
Priya was startled as Francis’s brother, Dean, moved close enough to them to say, “Have a care, the little princeling is coming this way.”
Priya gulped and looked past Mr. Rathborne-Paxton to see Jeetan making his way through the milling guests toward them. She focused back on Francis and said, “The only way forward is to be honest with my father and to appeal to him from the heart.”
“Does he have a heart?” Francis asked, one eyebrow raised.
Priya bit her lip and glanced to her father. He was busy speaking with the man who had been pointed out to her as a Member of Parliament. She peeked at Jogendra—who was very much occupied as Mlle. D’Argent introduced him to some of the other guests—and then at Jeetan, who was coming ever closer.
“He will have to listen to me eventually,” she said. “I know he loves me and wants what’s best for me. I cannot believe that he would be so cruel as to force me to continue with a marriage I was not even present for, or that he would disown me for refusing to bend to his whim.”
“Are you certain of that?” Francis asked.
Jeetan was within earshot, even though Mr. Rathborne-Paxton stepped into his path and attempted to engage him in conversation in order to buy Priya and Francis more time.
Priya swallowed and whispered, “No. No, I’m not sure of that at all. But I don’t know what else to do.”
Francis opened his mouth as if he would share a new plan, but before he could, Jeetan broke away from Mr. Rathborne-Paxton and marched up to Priya with a frown.
“Father has sent me to fetch you,” he said. “We are going home immediately.”
“Stop being such a toady, Jeetan,” Priya hissed. “You’re worse than that dog Ninu kept out behind the kitchens.”
Francis had no idea what she was talking about, of course, but Jeetan reeled back in offense.
“This is not how a rani should behave,” he insisted. “You are my sister, which makes me responsible for you. I do not want to see you hurt by dashing yourself against the rocks of a fate you cannot escape.”
Those words and the frustrated care in Jeetan’s eyes were enough to disarm Priya. She was speechless. Her brother truly did care for her, even if he was a pill sometimes. It was enough to paralyze her with inconvenient affection for him. All she could do was let Jeetan take her arm and lead her away.
