Read Online The Wedding Bed (The Sun Never Sets, Book One) by Ava Archer Payne - Free Book Online Page A

their untouchable status dictated where they could work, worship, eat, collect water, and appear in public places. They were prohibited from receiving an education, including learning to read and write. In some instances, they were required to hide themselves in the event members of an upper caste approached, so as not to pollute the purity of the air.
    Dealing with the untouchables was a social line neither Hindu nor English would dare to cross. No one would. Except, apparently, her husband.
    “I see,” she managed.
    His steely eyes searched her face, then his mouth tightened in a grim line. Her shock must have shown, for he lifted his broad shoulders in a careless shrug. “If you wanted a better man, jaanu , you should have married one.”
    Calla paused. Not a better man, but perhaps a less complex one. Strangely enough, the thought did not please her. “But then I wouldn’t have you.”
    “Indeed.” Another pause, another look she couldn’t decipher, then, “Shall we, Lady Keating?”
    Lady Keating.
    There was no mistaking the dry amusement in his voice, as well as the subtle hint of challenge. Another memory chose that moment to assert itself—the East India Company’s gala a few nights ago. Derek’s reception among his peers had been markedly chilly. Disdainful, if one wanted to put a fine point on it. Was that due to prejudice against his mixed heritage, disapproval at his dealings with the Dalit , or some deeper flaw in his character? There was no way of knowing, and nothing she could do about it now, in any case.
    Feigning a courage she did not possess, Calla brought up her chin and gathered her skirts. She placed her hand in his. 
    “Yes, Lord Keating,” she said. “We shall.”
     

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    The evening passed in a blur. Calla recalled being introduced to at least two dozen of her husband’s closest friends and colleagues, all of whom studied her with rapt curiosity, as though she were an exotic, foreign species that had been invented for their amusement. Somehow she made it through the ordeal, playing gracious hostess and blushing bride, smiling until her cheeks hurt. Finally, just when she thought the evening would never end, their last guest departed.
    Her relief at having successfully endured her wedding supper evaporated as Lord Keating escorted her upstairs. Instead of simply depositing her at the threshold of her room, he stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him.
    Calla’s momentary confusion quickly evaporated. Of course. The wedding ceremony, followed by the wedding supper…and ending with the wedding night.
    Her gaze shot around the room . The fire had been lit, the bed sheets turned down, a lush bouquet of deep red roses perfumed the air, and a bottle of wine chilled in a sterling silver bucket of ice chips. Her suite had been transformed into a setting for seduction.
    Everything was ready. Everything except her .
    She watched as he r husband’s long strides carried him across the room. He removed his black serge jacket and draped it across a chair, then loosened the intricate knot of his silk cravat and carelessly tossed it atop his jacket. He stretched, flexing the muscles of his shoulders, as a man coming home from a tiring day at work might do. Then he turned and looked at her.
    “Would you care for champagne?”
    She licked her suddenly parched lips and shook her head. “No.”
    “Ah.” He shot a glance at the bed. “Anxious to begin, are you?”
    “On second thought,” she blurted out, “Wine would be lovely.”
    A knowing grin flashed across his face. “I thought so.” He poured two glasses and passed one to her.
    She took the glass and gratefully sipped the bubbly wine. “Your guests seemed to enjoy themselves this evening,” she said. “Particularly that fair-haired gentleman. Viscount…”
    “ Brooksbank,” Derek supplied.
    “He was quite taken with the food. He asked about each dish.”
    “Yes. He takes particular glee in