Read Online A Duke's Wicked Kiss (Entangled Select) by Kathleen Bittner Roth - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kathleen Bittner Roth
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She could not leave—not after all these years—not after she’d come so far, got so close.
“As soon as you’re able,” Harry responded. “I don’t expect you to rush from the room right this instant but within a fortnight, at least.”
“Sooner,” Ravenswood replied.
Vámbéry nodded.
A sudden dawning spread through Suri that filled her with near panic. She had waited half her life to come face to face with her mother’s family. But for the first time, she realized her deepest motivation—she wanted to look her grandmother in the eye and ask her how she could have tossed Suri out for the lions to eat. Her own blood. Ravi-ji was arranging the meeting. She would not budge from Delhi until she was close enough to her grandmother to catch the slightest shift in her demeanor when asked the question that had haunted Suri for years.
A knock sounded on the door. Ravenswood made to rise. Marguerite waved him off. “I am closest.”
Suri caught sight of a white-clad servant. After a brief exchange, Marguerite closed the door, a large package with a smaller one atop it in her hands.
She turned to Suri, her brows knit together. “These are for you, dear, along with this letter from Ravi Maurya. The servant said there are many more boxes being delivered to your room. What do you make of this?”
Suri scrambled to her feet. “I have no idea.” Oh, but I know whatever it is, it has to do with meeting my maternal grandparents, as he promised. Blood pounded in her ears .
She opened the letter. “Why, it’s an invitation to a royal wedding. Ravi-ji has invited me to be his guest.”
A muscle twitched in Ravenswood’s hardened jaw. His eyes turned a deep gray. “To where?”
She paused, regarded him for a moment with a cold stare, and then returned to reading the invitation. She could barely keep her fingers from shaking. At last. Ravi-ji had told her he would notify her as soon as arrangements had been made, but she would have to read between the lines of whatever was sent, and keep their ultimate plans secret.
“There is traditional clothing in the box.” She set the letter down and lifted the lid. “Oh, my!”
Marguerite reached in and lifted the fabric, an exquisite turquoise silk embroidered with semi-precious beads. “Oh, my, is right.”
Suri glanced over to Ravenswood, who sat reading Ravi Maurya’s letter. “How dare you!” she snatched it from his hand.
“You are not going,” he said, his words razor sharp.
She knew her jaw dropped, but she didn’t care about deportment. Unbelieving of what she’d heard, she glanced from Harry to Marguerite and to Vámbéry, who sat stroking his beard.
Vámbéry sat back in his chair and regarded her at length. “If it is the royal wedding that begins three weeks from Saturday, she should attend. We could use her.”
Ravenswood was on his feet. “Like hell!”
Vámbéry nodded to the letter in Suri’s hand. “May I?”
He studied it, held it up as though inspecting for a watermark, and then set it down. “I’ll be there as well. I can keep her close enough for safety’s sake.”
Harry swept his hand over his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not think it wise. You won’t be allowed in the women’s quarters and who knows what could happen to her there.”
Suri tossed the lid off the smaller box and gasped at the jewels inside. It took both hands to lift them out. “Would someone please tell me what is going on? What women’s quarters? I have been invited to an afternoon wedding, for heaven’s sake.”
Ravenswood paced, Marguerite stood stock still, her eyes darting from one person to the next, while Harry sat staring at Vámbéry, who said, “You have not been to an Indian wedding, especially a royal one. Saturday afternoon is only the beginning of a celebration that will go on for days, perhaps ten. That’s why so many boxes are being delivered to your room. It seems Ravi Maurya has arranged for you to remain
“As soon as you’re able,” Harry responded. “I don’t expect you to rush from the room right this instant but within a fortnight, at least.”
“Sooner,” Ravenswood replied.
Vámbéry nodded.
A sudden dawning spread through Suri that filled her with near panic. She had waited half her life to come face to face with her mother’s family. But for the first time, she realized her deepest motivation—she wanted to look her grandmother in the eye and ask her how she could have tossed Suri out for the lions to eat. Her own blood. Ravi-ji was arranging the meeting. She would not budge from Delhi until she was close enough to her grandmother to catch the slightest shift in her demeanor when asked the question that had haunted Suri for years.
A knock sounded on the door. Ravenswood made to rise. Marguerite waved him off. “I am closest.”
Suri caught sight of a white-clad servant. After a brief exchange, Marguerite closed the door, a large package with a smaller one atop it in her hands.
She turned to Suri, her brows knit together. “These are for you, dear, along with this letter from Ravi Maurya. The servant said there are many more boxes being delivered to your room. What do you make of this?”
Suri scrambled to her feet. “I have no idea.” Oh, but I know whatever it is, it has to do with meeting my maternal grandparents, as he promised. Blood pounded in her ears .
She opened the letter. “Why, it’s an invitation to a royal wedding. Ravi-ji has invited me to be his guest.”
A muscle twitched in Ravenswood’s hardened jaw. His eyes turned a deep gray. “To where?”
She paused, regarded him for a moment with a cold stare, and then returned to reading the invitation. She could barely keep her fingers from shaking. At last. Ravi-ji had told her he would notify her as soon as arrangements had been made, but she would have to read between the lines of whatever was sent, and keep their ultimate plans secret.
“There is traditional clothing in the box.” She set the letter down and lifted the lid. “Oh, my!”
Marguerite reached in and lifted the fabric, an exquisite turquoise silk embroidered with semi-precious beads. “Oh, my, is right.”
Suri glanced over to Ravenswood, who sat reading Ravi Maurya’s letter. “How dare you!” she snatched it from his hand.
“You are not going,” he said, his words razor sharp.
She knew her jaw dropped, but she didn’t care about deportment. Unbelieving of what she’d heard, she glanced from Harry to Marguerite and to Vámbéry, who sat stroking his beard.
Vámbéry sat back in his chair and regarded her at length. “If it is the royal wedding that begins three weeks from Saturday, she should attend. We could use her.”
Ravenswood was on his feet. “Like hell!”
Vámbéry nodded to the letter in Suri’s hand. “May I?”
He studied it, held it up as though inspecting for a watermark, and then set it down. “I’ll be there as well. I can keep her close enough for safety’s sake.”
Harry swept his hand over his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose. “I do not think it wise. You won’t be allowed in the women’s quarters and who knows what could happen to her there.”
Suri tossed the lid off the smaller box and gasped at the jewels inside. It took both hands to lift them out. “Would someone please tell me what is going on? What women’s quarters? I have been invited to an afternoon wedding, for heaven’s sake.”
Ravenswood paced, Marguerite stood stock still, her eyes darting from one person to the next, while Harry sat staring at Vámbéry, who said, “You have not been to an Indian wedding, especially a royal one. Saturday afternoon is only the beginning of a celebration that will go on for days, perhaps ten. That’s why so many boxes are being delivered to your room. It seems Ravi Maurya has arranged for you to remain
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