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“I made a decision that is in your best interest,” her father growled, standing so that he could tower over her. “Or do you not think my friend Jogendra is a good man who will provide you with a safe and luxurious life?”
Priya winced as she peeked sideways at Jogendra. He was strangely quiet, observing the interaction with an unusually serious expression. He’d moved several yards away from Priya and her father, which gave him the appearance of someone on the outskirts of the argument instead of the man at the heart of the whole thing.
“I am in love with Lord Cathraiche,” Priya said, trying her best to be strong and brave, but feeling as though the mountain of tradition and masculinity that her father represented was too much.
“That will fade over time,” her father said. “You will be happy as a rani in Jogendra’s household, you will see.”
“I won’t,” Priya said, devastation creeping up on her. “I will never be happy again.”
The sound of a servant clearing his throat near the door only barely touched Priya. But when the servant said, “Sir, Lord Vegas is here to see you,” she snapped her head up to stare at him.
The servant had addressed Jogendra, who suddenly looked happy again. “Excellent!” he said. “I’ve invited the marquess to supper,” he explained to Priya. “But it seems he is here early. We must all entertain him and be entertained by him.”
It was the very last thing Priya wanted to do. She neither liked nor trusted Lord Vegas, despite whose father he was. At the moment, fathers were not her favorite people. But as with everything else in her life, she was pushed along in the tide of someone else’s will, and within minutes, she found herself seated on a settee in the house’s public parlor, being scrutinized by Lord Vegas.
She had no interest in the conversation and didn’t truly pay attention until Lord Vegas said, “If you ask me, you should attend this ridiculous ball my wife is hosting.”
At that, Priya looked up at Lord Vegas so swiftly that her neck hurt.
“Truly?” Jogendra asked, looking as though he had stumbled across the plot of a mystery story. “And why is that?”
“You should go so that you can upstage that entire lot of pretenders,” Lord Vegas went on. “You are, of course, of much purer moral character. Someone needs to show them the proper way to deport oneself in public. I could attend as your guest and help drive the point home.”
Priya frowned. Clearly, Lord Vegas had not been invited to the ball at his own home, and now he was searching for a way to attend. But if it meant she could go, if it bought her even a bit of time….
She had only begun to ruminate on that when Lord Vegas shocked them all further by saying, “In fact, I do not understand why you cannot simply let the girl marry my son. It would serve them both right, after all.”
Lord Vegas was the very last person who Priya expected to come to her defense, which left her speechless at his statement.
“I do not think you understand the way these things work, my lord,” Priya’s father said, frowning at the man. Priya could tell he was at least intrigued by Lord Vegas’s suggestion, though. “My daughter is married to my friend here. When he returns, she must return as well, and we’ve already purchased tickets for a ship departing in three days.”
It took everything Priya had not to whimper or plead for mercy. Three days? That was not enough time.
The surprises from Lord Vegas kept coming, though.
“Yes, I know that, sir,” he snapped, his back going straight as he faced down Priya’s father. “Raja Raikut here was kind enough to book my passage as well. But a few days’ delay would do no harm. We could travel to the continent, travel by train to Lisbon, and board the ship there. That would give us time to attend this ball and to ensure that your daughter’s hand is properly given to my son.”
There were so many surprising elements within the man’s statement that Priya didn’t know where to start.
“You…you are returning to Hindustan with….” She couldn’t bring herself to use the word “us”. She hadn’t given up yet.
“Raja Raikut has asked me to return home with him as his guest,” Lord Vegas explained.
Jogendra grinned in such a way that Priya instantly knew the joke was on Lord Vegas. “Having a real English marquess at the palace would be quite the draw,” he said, winking at Priya.
Priya gaped. She wondered if Lord Vegas knew he was, for all intents and purposes, being taken home from England as a souvenir. Then again, from the little bit she’d learned about Lord Vegas’s circumstances from Francis, it would be a step up in the world for the man.
Another thought occurred to her—one she couldn’t stop herself from asking about. “You think I should marry your son, my lord?” she asked, baffled.
Lord Vegas shrugged. “As I understand it, you would rather be married to him than to the raja. Why burden a man whom you do not want when he has other outlets for his generosity of spirit? I’m certain it wouldn’t be a fuss for a man as great as your father to return the dowry he gave Raikut for your hand.”
Priya didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or if she was appalled. Lord Vegas saw her as competition. She was a threat to the place he wanted to set up for himself with Jogendra. And he clearly saw her dowry, should she marry Francis, as money that he could figure out how to put into his own pockets. The man truly was vile, but his scheming and selfishness might actually be to her benefit in the long run.
The only fly in the ointment of Lord Vegas’s suggestions was the fact that her father clearly knew exactly what the man was up to.
“I will not hear of it,” he said. “The matter of the dowry is inconsequential. What’s done is already done, and it cannot be undone.”
“Why not?” Lord Vegas argued. “As I understand it, the marriage between Raja Raikut and Miss Narayan was conducted over a distance and does not hold legal weight in England. Would you not rather see your daughter married to an earl than torment yourself dealing with the fuss of returning to India?”
Priya’s father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “It seems as though English soil breeds conspiracies and defiance.” He stared hard at Priya with that comment. “I never should have allowed my children to come here. I may have to bring Jeetan home with me now as well.”
“What? Father, no!” Jeetan protested, inching forward in the chair where he had been sitting back and watching the conversation. “I…I have my studies to think of. I have friends here, a social circle. You cannot simply uproot me from all of that.”
Priya made a sound of derision before she could stop herself. Her brother was a champion hypocrite if those were his arguments.
Jeetan caught her expression and seemed to realize it as well. He let out a breath and his shoulders dropped in defeat. “I think you should stay for a while longer, Father. Let Priya attend this ball. The invitation said it was for the benefit of that silly Women’s Suffrage League that she likes so much, which means it’s a charitable cause.”
Priya arched one eyebrow. Either Jeetan didn’t know what he was talking about, or he was trying to ingratiate himself with her at the last minute to save face. More than that, he clearly already knew about the invitation, which meant that she had been deliberately kept in the dark. It stung to know that all the men in her life were conspiring against her. And if she was lucky enough to be allowed to attend Lady Vegas’s ball, the time might finally have come when she would have to appeal to Francis to save her.
