Suniti believed Rob. The conviction in his voice left no room to doubt his pledge. She brushed her lips against his. He snared her mouth as he nipped at her lips. He released her other hand, so he could wrap his arm around her waist. He pulled her against him, his arousal pressing against her belly.
“Do you understand what that means, Suni?”
“I’m Indian. Of course, I do. We invented the Kamasutra. I may have never seen a naked man, but I know what happens.”
Rob chuckled at her forthrightness. He appreciated it. “I desire you with a ferocity that consumes me, Suni. I can’t stop thinking about you. I long to strip you and bring you hours of pleasure, but only as my wife.”
“I’ve dreamed about you.”
Her admission made Rob tighten his hold as her hands fisted his shirt between them. She pressed her hips forward, frustration mounting along with her need. His hand slipped to cup her backside as their tongues dueled. She was hesitant at first, but when her tongue swept across his, and she felt his cock twitch, she grew more confident.
A noise behind Rob brought him back to his senses. They pulled apart, but neither wished to let go.
“I’m coming to see your father, Suniti. I’m asking for your hand today.”
Suniti’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t think he would say yes, Rob.”
“Tell me about Hindu marriage, or at least weddings. What must I do to convince him?”
“There are eight types of marriage. Most are fairly similar, but they differ by social class and what families can afford. I should marry in a Brahma ceremony. They would dress me in my finest clothes, and I’d wear my finest jewels. We would exchange gifts as part of the wedding. My father would choose my husband. All but two forms of marriage require the father to pick the groom. In Raksasha, it would end in violence. You would kidnap me and slay my family. In Asura, my father would sell me to you.”
“Those aren’t worth discussing. They will never happen.”
“Gandharva is a marriage based on lust but mutual consent. It’s often impulsive and done between young people who wish to share a bed and don’t want to wait for a more formal wedding, or their families disapprove. That is the closest to what we could have if my father doesn’t agree.”
“What would happen to you if we married that way?”
“I would be disowned and disgraced. My father could seek retribution against you for dishonoring and soiling me.”
“Nothing we do can soil you. I understand the notion because it’s similar in England. But I never want you to think what we would share as husband and wife could ever be dirty or wrong.”
“I know.”
“Do you believe this is only about lust for me?”
Suniti shook her head. “It isn’t about lust for me, either. I desire you. But I feel comfortable with you in a way I don’t even with my sisters. I’m happy whenever I see you, and I wish to make you happy.”
“What do you wish to do?” Rob held his breath.
“I want us to talk to my father together. If he refuses to consider you, then we leave and have a Gandharva marriage.”
“Do you feel rushed?”
“I would have married a man I’d never met. My parents only met three times before they married. They love each other now. How long a bride and groom know each other, often plays little part in their marriage. I feel like I know you better than most brides would know their groom.”
“I feel the same. Can we speak to him now?”
Bellowing behind Rob had them both facing the noise. Surat stood with four guards, and he was furious.
Chapter Five
“That’s my father.” Sarla rose from the bed where she’d pressed a compress to a feverish child’s forehead. She looked at Will, who stood at the foot of the bed. Their paths met two days after the incident with the Company men at the palace. She’d been on the way to the almshouse, and he was too. He explained he donated money on Sundays, since it was the English church’s weekly holy day. She’d nearly melted where she stood.
“He sounds furious.” Will reached out his hand to guide her toward the door.
He’d been concerned when she told him she ministered to the sick. He feared her catching something, but his anxiousness eased when she explained that the people who she visited didn’t have communicable diseases. He visited with her every day, offering whatever help he could, moving supplies, cutting wood, even scrubbing floors. He was happy for any time spent near her, and he noted in the Company logs how villagers fared. It justified his actions. He listened to her read to patients, and they’d sat side-by-side as two patients died the previous week. He’d held her hand as she grieved the first one. He’d pulled his chair beside hers and wrapped his arm around her. She’d cried against his chest. She’d known both women since she was an infant.
“He rarely yells. It must be something bad.”
