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For a moment, the parlor buzzed with expectant energy.
Then Dean cleared his throat and asked, “How, precisely, do you plan to do that, frater? Mother’s musical evening was meant to be your means of dazzling Narayan with the family’s influence, but it appears to have failed.”
Francis pressed his lips together and blew out through his nose, thinking. “It nearly worked,” he said, certain of no such thing. “Raikut was certainly impressed. And the idea was sound.”
“Perhaps we could employ the same idea, but make it bigger somehow,” Joseph said.
Francis was surprised his youngest brother was as interested in plotting as Dean was. It represented a new side to Joseph, one Francis was proud of.
“What could be bigger than Mother inviting a passel of her most influential friends to our house for entertainment?” Francis asked, posing the question so that they could all ponder it. “What could we do to show Narayan that giving his daughter to me would be to his advantage?”
“And perhaps that keeping her would be more trouble than it’s worth?” Dean suggested. He glanced to Priya. “No offense meant, madam.”
“None taken,” Priya said in a wispy voice.
“A ball,” Joseph said, his eyes suddenly alight with excitement. “We need to host a ball. One of the grand sort, where everyone clamors all over themselves to get an invitation.”
“Which they will do, after tonight’s event, if Mother issues the invitation,” Dean said, catching on to Joseph’s idea and running with it.
“How will a ball influence my father if an intimate evening of music failed to do so?” Priya asked. She looked reluctant to dampen Francis’s brothers’ enthusiasm, but Francis appreciated her practicality. “I’m not certain he will even allow me to attend.”
“Why did he let you attend this evening?” Francis asked. “He didn’t look particularly pleased to be here.”
Priya lowered her head to stare at her hands, which Francis had moved to hold. “Jogendra insisted we come,” she said. “He is enamored of London life, and he wanted to attend the sort of event that he’s always read about.”
“Has he attended a real, London ball yet?” Dean asked, as bright as if everything were going to plan.
Priya glanced up at him and shook her head. “He would relish the chance to attend, but my father—”
“Will do whatever is necessary to humor his friend,” Francis suggested. He knew it to be true. Even if he hated relying on his chief rival for victory.
“We need another element to absolutely ensure success,” Francis went on. “As Dean suggested, we need something that will indicate to your father that you will make his life a living hell, should he decide to deny you what your heart wants.”
“I’m not certain it works that way,” Priya sighed, staring at her hands twined with Francis’s. “He already knows that I have modern, western views of things. He disapproves of that wildly, but—”
“That’s it,” Francis interrupted as inspiration struck him. He hated interrupting Priya, but the idea that had just rushed at him was too good to ignore. “We have Mother host a ball, but not just any ball. We make it for the benefit of Mrs. Pankhurst and the Women’s Suffrage League.”
“Do you think Mrs. Pankhurst would come if we invited her?” Joseph asked, taking an interest in the idea as well.
Francis shrugged. “She might if she thinks the ball would raise funds for her efforts.”
“Or if it would influence people in positions of power and authority,” Priya said, a glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes at last. “She is forever saying we need more voices for the cause.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Francis said with a nod, smiling. “We’ll have Mother host a grand ball, as soon as possible, to impress your father with our position in society. And we will host it for the benefit of the Women’s Suffrage League so that he knows you are a strong, determined woman with a mind of her own who will only drive him to distraction, should he fail to come to his senses and allow you to marry the man you love.”
Priya smiled. It wasn’t a smile of complete confidence, but it was one of complete love. Francis had no confidence at all that the plan would work out, but at least he was doing something. At least he was taking action to win Priya in a way that would not destroy her connections with her family entirely.
That was the secondary plan.
“Well, if we’re going to inform Mother that we need her to throw together a ball within a few days—because I am assuming you would like to move swiftly on this,” Dean said, standing and returning the tumbler he’d been drinking out of to the table on the side, “then I’m going to bed. I want to face Mother after a good night’s sleep.”
“I’m going to bed as well,” Joseph added, standing. “Mostly because I am exhausted.” He said as much with dramatic flourish that would have made Miss Garrett proud.
“I should…I should return home,” Priya said uncertainly as she and Francis stood as well.
“Nonsense.” Francis rested a hand on the small of her back and escorted her out of the parlor after his brothers. “It is far too late for you to be out and about. You will stay here for the evening.”
“Oh, but I couldn’t,” Priya said, noticeably breathless.
“Oh, but you can,” Francis countered her with a wink.
She didn’t say anything else, though her mouth hung open in surprise as Francis walked her to the front stairs, then accompanied her up to the first floor. The guestrooms were on that floor…but so was his own bedroom.
Priya remained silent as they walked the dim hallways. Francis proceeded slowly, giving Dean and Joseph enough time to disappear into their rooms so that Priya wouldn’t have the feeling that his brothers knew what they were up to, even though they undoubtedly did. When he reached the door to his bedroom, he opened it and slipped inside, taking Priya with him.
“This does not appear to be a guest room,” Priya whispered as she glanced around the masculine room.
“It is not,” Francis said, raising one eyebrow. “But if that is where you wish to stay….”
He watched her hopefully.
Priya finished sweeping the room with an assessing gaze, then glanced up at him. Her eyes held a combination of fire, trust, and uncertainty.
“Let me take care of you, my darling,” Francis said, sliding Priya into his arms and resting a hand on the side of her face. “I intend to take care of you for the remainder of our days, so why not allow me to start tonight?”
“I…I want to stay here,” she whispered. “With you. Always.”
“Then that is all I need to know,” Francis said with a smile.
He leaned in and slanted his mouth over Priya’s, pulling a kiss from her that he prayed would settle her soul and make her feel safe and loved. Blessedly, she responded with a sigh, her body sagging into his. It was beautiful and arousing. She had everything to lose by staying with him and risking her reputation, but Francis was certain that they both felt as though his bed was exactly where she needed to be.
He helped Priya undress, pausing to kiss her lingeringly between each garment he peeled away from her. She worked with shaking hands to undress him as well. What was usually a tiresome and tedious task turned into a gentle affirmation of what they wanted as they removed every barrier that existed between them.
At last, when they were both naked and had slipped between the cool sheets of Francis’s bed, he felt as though he had everything he had ever wanted or needed.
“You truly are the most magnificent woman,” he murmured, kissing her cheek and neck, then moving to steal another long kiss from her lips. Though it didn’t truly count as stealing when it was given so freely.
“I don’t know what I am,” Priya said in a tremulous voice, shifting under him so that her body formed the perfect cradle for his.
“Yes, you do,” he reassured her, stroking her face and gazing down at her with wild fondness. “You are a strong and beautiful woman who is going to great lengths to determine her own future. You are a bright and lively soul who will accomplish so much in this world—either as your own woman or as the Countess of Cathraiche, and someday, the Marchioness of Vegas. But whatever you choose to do and however you decide to style yourself, I will support you in all things.”
“Oh, Francis,” she sighed, surging up to kiss him.
