hurt.”
“If you do not let me marry Adrian, I will be unhappy the rest of my life,” India announced dramatically.
“Since you two cannot agree on this point,” Jasmine said, interjecting herself between her eldest child and her husband, “I think it best we do not discuss it again tonight. India, you have done a fine job of getting ready, and since you are, you will help your sister and me to pack our own possessions tomorrow. Now, go to your room, my child, and rest. You know how difficult it is to rest along the road, and we have a very, very long journey ahead of us,” Jasmine concluded.
Kissing her parents, India moved serenely up the staircase and entered her bedchamber. She had given her father one last chance, and she had hoped against hope that he would change his mind and then they wouldn’t have to run away. She sighed. Adrian had been right all along. Her father was not giving them any other choice. Well, this time tomorrow they would be well at sea and on their way to Italy, and all her parents would know from the note she was leaving them was that she and Adrian had gone off to marry and they would not come back until they had.
“Why do you bait Papa that way?” Fortune demanded, entering the room. “He is not being unreasonable. Your viscount really isn’t right for you, India, but you are always so insistent upon having your own way.”
“Papa has never said he disapproved of Adrian, only his family,” India retorted.
“A man is his family,” Fortune replied. “You packed early so you could sneak off tomorrow, and spend time with your swain, didn’t you? Mama saw right through you, and now you’ll have to help us,” she teased her elder sister. “I am very fussy about how my things are packed. It will take you all day between us, I fear.”
“If you are not careful,” India threatened her sister, “I’ll take all your clothing and throw it out the window!”
“Ha! Ha!” Fortune taunted, and, picking up a pillow, whacked India with it.
Within moments, the two were engaged in a pillow fight that ended with them both collapsing into gales of laughter upon the bed.
“I shall miss you, little sister,” India said.
“Miss me?” Fortune looked puzzled.
“When Father marries me off to his dark stranger in a few months’ time,” India quickly said. “God’s boots! Do you realize our childhood is just about at an end? By this time next year we could be both great with child!” She stuffed one of the pillows beneath her skirts and paraded about the room. “Ohhh, I hope it’s a son for my dear lord.”
Fortune giggled. “Why do men always want sons?” she wondered aloud.
“Well, our real father didn’t get one first,” India said. “He got me before he got Henry, and then he got you after he died.”
“Do you remember our real father at all?” Fortune ask wistfully.
India sighed deeply. “I have one tiny memory of this great, big, golden laughing man lifting me up in front of him on his horse and riding me about, but that is all. It really isn’t much, is it?”
“It’s more than Henry and I have,” Fortune answered her. “Our real father wasn’t even alive when I was born, but I do remember Prince Henry a little bit. He was handsome, and could never take his eyes off Mama. Just imagine if he had been allowed to marry Mama. Then our Charlie would be king now instead of his uncle Charles.”
“Mama was considered unsuitable,” India said. She had been older than Fortune, and remembered more.
“Just like Adrian is unsuitable for you,” Fortune responded.
“I am going to bed,” India announced, ending the discussion.
The two sisters washed themselves, put on their nightgowns, and climbed into bed. Across the room the fire burned brightly, warming the bedchamber. India blew out the candle and settled down. If she did not wake up in time, Adrian had promised to throw pebbles at the windowpane again. As her trunks were in the hall by the front
“If you do not let me marry Adrian, I will be unhappy the rest of my life,” India announced dramatically.
“Since you two cannot agree on this point,” Jasmine said, interjecting herself between her eldest child and her husband, “I think it best we do not discuss it again tonight. India, you have done a fine job of getting ready, and since you are, you will help your sister and me to pack our own possessions tomorrow. Now, go to your room, my child, and rest. You know how difficult it is to rest along the road, and we have a very, very long journey ahead of us,” Jasmine concluded.
Kissing her parents, India moved serenely up the staircase and entered her bedchamber. She had given her father one last chance, and she had hoped against hope that he would change his mind and then they wouldn’t have to run away. She sighed. Adrian had been right all along. Her father was not giving them any other choice. Well, this time tomorrow they would be well at sea and on their way to Italy, and all her parents would know from the note she was leaving them was that she and Adrian had gone off to marry and they would not come back until they had.
“Why do you bait Papa that way?” Fortune demanded, entering the room. “He is not being unreasonable. Your viscount really isn’t right for you, India, but you are always so insistent upon having your own way.”
“Papa has never said he disapproved of Adrian, only his family,” India retorted.
“A man is his family,” Fortune replied. “You packed early so you could sneak off tomorrow, and spend time with your swain, didn’t you? Mama saw right through you, and now you’ll have to help us,” she teased her elder sister. “I am very fussy about how my things are packed. It will take you all day between us, I fear.”
“If you are not careful,” India threatened her sister, “I’ll take all your clothing and throw it out the window!”
“Ha! Ha!” Fortune taunted, and, picking up a pillow, whacked India with it.
Within moments, the two were engaged in a pillow fight that ended with them both collapsing into gales of laughter upon the bed.
“I shall miss you, little sister,” India said.
“Miss me?” Fortune looked puzzled.
“When Father marries me off to his dark stranger in a few months’ time,” India quickly said. “God’s boots! Do you realize our childhood is just about at an end? By this time next year we could be both great with child!” She stuffed one of the pillows beneath her skirts and paraded about the room. “Ohhh, I hope it’s a son for my dear lord.”
Fortune giggled. “Why do men always want sons?” she wondered aloud.
“Well, our real father didn’t get one first,” India said. “He got me before he got Henry, and then he got you after he died.”
“Do you remember our real father at all?” Fortune ask wistfully.
India sighed deeply. “I have one tiny memory of this great, big, golden laughing man lifting me up in front of him on his horse and riding me about, but that is all. It really isn’t much, is it?”
“It’s more than Henry and I have,” Fortune answered her. “Our real father wasn’t even alive when I was born, but I do remember Prince Henry a little bit. He was handsome, and could never take his eyes off Mama. Just imagine if he had been allowed to marry Mama. Then our Charlie would be king now instead of his uncle Charles.”
“Mama was considered unsuitable,” India said. She had been older than Fortune, and remembered more.
“Just like Adrian is unsuitable for you,” Fortune responded.
“I am going to bed,” India announced, ending the discussion.
The two sisters washed themselves, put on their nightgowns, and climbed into bed. Across the room the fire burned brightly, warming the bedchamber. India blew out the candle and settled down. If she did not wake up in time, Adrian had promised to throw pebbles at the windowpane again. As her trunks were in the hall by the front
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