Chapter Thirteen

M y dear Lord Ramsgate,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I just want to let you know we are back in London. Thank you so much for allowing my daughter and me to enjoy your hospitality in the country. London feels dull in comparison.

Nalini wishes to write to the Times in hopes of making the case as public as it gets. I should say that she is not likely to drop her designs. I am afraid I have been too lenient a father. All I gained was a wilful daughter. So far, she has been content to await your valuable input before acting on her unorthodox ideas.

Something must give, though. I can't stay much longer in your high-handed country—if you forgive me for my bluntness.

Yours truly,

Arjun

Days later, Leonard received this missive, seeing it as a signal that the case had to move forward. Nalini did not understand that writing to a British newspaper would only make England look bolder and more heroic in its quest to ‘civilise' the world. Not to mention that a non-British would in all probability not be considered proper publishing material.

Even so, a certain reluctance to carry out the task at hand threatened to dominate him. He'd been taking full advantage of the new circumstances in his home and enjoying his wife's company as much as possible. The scoundrels he called friends would be fast to say that he was in the thrall of marriage bliss. It might be the case, though said friends would utter it in a jocose undertone, with a smidge of ‘I told you so' in their countenances.

To hell with them! Leonard had been having the nights of blissful sleep of his life wrapped in his missus. And the nights were just part of it. They'd been taking their meals together, learning of each other's tastes and life concepts. He'd never experienced this with any other woman and the novelty got him quite captivated, to say the least.

But with Nalini and Arjun back in town, he imagined he would have to find some closure to their plight. With that in mind, he wrote to his peers, also involved in the question.

Ramsgate, Brunswick, and Rutherford alit from their respective conveyances in front of the townhouse rented by the Chandrakars that very afternoon.

Arjun received them with a troubled expression. "Nalini is gone."

Ramsgate brows joined in contrariety. "Where?"

"Left word with Sanjay that she would try an audience with the Lord Secretary."

"Not even dukes can talk to him without an appointment," Brunswick commented.

"And it takes months to get one," Rutherford added.

In his usual fine silk turban, tunic, and pantaloons, bright lapis lazuli this time, Arjun nodded. "I was about to go after her to prevent her from making a fool of herself."

"Let us waste no more time, then. Come," Leonard beckoned to the others. They all crammed themselves into the Earl's carriage to rush to the Foreign Office.

When the carriage screeched to a stop, the men spotted Nalini in a saree of a dandelion shade with gold thread embroidery heading to the entrance.

"Just in time," Arjun sighed in relief.

"But she is not alone," Titus revealed.

"Are those…?" Hadrian's expression mixed with stupefaction and vexation.

"Our wives," completed Leonard. His included. The woman had the temerity to disobey her caregivers, and worse, her husband. Of late, she'd been boasting prime vitality, but that did not excuse her from her rest.

The three ladies and the Indian beauty disappeared through the entrance, as the latter covered her head with the magnificent silk.

As if in common accord, the men followed the women without hurry. Smugness bedecked Leonard at the prospect of catching them red-handed.

The four of them reached the front desk. "We wish to speak to the Lord Secretary, please." Lady Rutherford asked.

The clerk, in his twenties, bowed to the ladies. As his eyes fell on Nalini, they acquired a mocking expression. "If you are here to deliver an invitation for a masquerade ball, you can leave it with me." He made no secret that he thought the Indian lady to be some kind of exotic attraction to the non-existent ball.

"I am afraid you did not understand, sir," Lady Brunswick said with a grim note.

"We are here to resolve a diplomatic stand-off." Nalini completed with as haughty a voice as the others.

"You had better be quick about it," Lady Ramsgate warned. "The Lord Secretary will not be happy with your treatment of us, ladies."

The clerk's derisive stance morphed into a deadly serious one. "To begin with, the Foreign Secretary does not receive ladies." He eyed Miss Chandrakar with open contempt. "And Lords must make an appointment months in advance to talk to him."

"Is he here now?" Philippa asked.

"Yes, my lady." The clerk's voice had become bored. "And he is busy."

"Fine," Matilda answered. "We shall wait."

The four women headed to a settee nearby.

"You do not understand." The clerk showed an exasperated expression. "He will not receive you with or without an appointment."

The three other men surrounded Leonard at the end of the corridor, from where they observed the tableau. As they made to go to the women, Leonard's hand lifted to stay them. "Let us wait and see how they will treat our womenfolk."

Those four ladies sat down regardless, all prim and well-behaved. Leonard had to tamp down a bubble of mirth. If there was something no one could accuse them of was of good behaviour. He thought it better to divert his thoughts. Or he would not hear the end of it from his wife.

Ten minutes had elapsed until the secretary's door opened. From inside came Stephen Sharpe, whom they'd met at the club and the Lord Secretary, the Duke of Eldernell. Leonard eyed Reginald Dawsmere, his ‘old' friend. The pompous villain had changed little in the last few years, apart from having more white hair and wrinkles along with a bigger belly, that was. The man who'd sent him on a mission on his very wedding night not to return for the next eight years. Ramsgate did not feel resentment as much as a sense of loss for the life and wife he missed out on.

The four ladies stood in unison and turned to face the Lord Secretary. "Your Grace," Phillipa beamed. "How are you today?"

Eldernell's face crumpled as he directed his attention to the speaker. Seeing the Duchess, his expression melted in false pleasantness. "My dear Duchess of Brunswick, what a delightful surprise." He bowed, and she curtsied. The Lord Secretary noticed her three companions. "What do I owe your visit to?"

"We would like to talk to you, if you could spare the time, naturally," the Duchess of Rutherford said and offered a sweet, sweet smile.

The old goat seemed to spot Nalini and boasted a condescending once-over. "If it is about some exhibition for overseas knickknackery, I must warn the…ladies I can't help with that."

"We are here about the agreement with Madala," Nalini informed without preamble or humour.

The Lord Secretary's bushy eyebrows lowered in quizzical loss. "Madala? Is that some exotic commodity?" He looked at the other women for an answer. And obtained only angry stares.

Leonard felt the urge to stride to the bastard and punch him to a pulp. Ramsgate wasted eight years of his life to find a middle ground between his country and Arjun's for the idiot in a pivotal place not to even remember the place's name.

"Lord Ramsgate mediated the agreement between England and the Kingdom of Madala," Ophelia explained.

Eldernell's eyes lit up. "Ramsgate, of course."

"Princess Nalini of Madala here wishes for you to make good on the agreement." Philippa declared.

"The East India Company is violating it." Matilda rejoined.

Reginald gave a little smirk that translated as ‘Oh, you little-brained women understand nothing.' "But I do not have power over the East India Company," he evaded. "I can't do a thing about it."

"I do not think so, Your Grace." Ophelia used a tone she would to a four-year-old. "At the Maharaja's request, a representative of the Foreign Office co-signed the document. The Earl of Ramsgate has a copy."

Reginald turned an irascible scowl to Sharpe. "Did you update me on that?"

"I believe so, Your Grace." At least this glorified go-between did not renege on that. And when he met the lords at the club, he knew all the details concerning the issue.

"Alright," the Lord Secretary compromised. "I will call Ramsgate here to talk about this."

The damned bastard was buying time. Time to continue doing nothing. He was making Ramsgate ashamed of being British.

"Not this time, sir," Nalini interjected, purposefully using the wrong title. Leonard had heard her use the right ones at the previous gatherings. "An effective action is long overdue." Her chin lifted. "We will wait for you to produce it."

Eldernell twisted his nose with an undiluted sneer. "A little backwater savage like you presume to give me orders?" He eyed the clerk at the front desk. "Call the guards."

That prompted Leonard to stride ahead. "Not so fast, Dawsmere." The other men followed and neared the ladies, forming a front of eight people against the three Foreign Office members.

The Lord Secretary's jaw dropped. "What is this? A conspiracy?"

"If you wish to call doing the right thing a conspiracy, be my guest," defied Brunswick.

"My country is not a rag for you to stomp on," Arjun protested.

"Savages are not allowed in here." That was all Eldernell seemed capable of saying.

"After what your precious company did to my land, the savages are on your side," Nalini defended her father.

"We are all going into your office to await a proper solution for Madala," Rutherford demanded.

The eight visitors advanced, all but ushering Eldernell inside.

Leonard closed the door with a dry click and turned to the Lord Secretary, who'd entrenched himself behind his sturdy carved desk.

"You thought to call guards and manhandle the ladies, did you?" Leonard threw in a reproachful voice.

"Our wives," Titus defied.

"And daughters," Arjun added.

That caused Eldernell to look at the prince, sweeping him from the turban to pointed shoes. "At least, you speak the King's English." It was a clear avoidance of accountability.

The maharaja eyed the secretary in full. "I do, Your Grace." And canted his head. "Because no English people make it a point of learning Hindi, with few exceptions." He directed a meaningful glance at Ramsgate.

"The least these people in the Foreign Office should do is make an effort," agreed Ophelia. Leonard exchanged a surreptitious look with his wife, admiration and reproach blending between them.

"And not even in your language you understand us," Nalini interjected and gained a nod of approval from the other ladies.

"How long will you make us wait for your solution?" Hadrian asked.

"About that." Eldernell's tone acquired a sheepish quality. "Ramsgate, could you brief me on the case?" He sat on his high-backed chair as he motioned for the others to take a seat.

Incompetence had a name, Leonard thought before he answered. "Of course." With the help of the Chandrakars, he conveyed the situation.

Meanwhile, Sharpe excused himself and popped into the office to deliver the signed treaties.

After listening to the briefing and shuffling through the paperwork, Eldernell lifted his balding head. "So basically, you are forcing me to take it up with the Company."

"You are the one with position and authority for that," Hadrian replied, as though it was the most obvious fact in the history of Britain.

Brunswick spoke. "On second thought, I would suggest you take the Company's Court of Directors to task." The Court of Directors operated the Company from London, whereas their overseas presidents and council managed the private army in the numerous colonies.

"You all signed these papers, did you not?" Leonard said with a pinch of accusation.

"This is no small feat," Reginald mused as he drummed his fingers on the desk in contemplation.

Not a small feat alright. The Foreign Office would have to exercise its authority over a gigantic and faceless company whose arms stretched over a large chunk of Asia and held most of the vast Indian subcontinent under its thumb.

"Everyone hurried to sign a deal with sights to Madala's abundant commodities with not a shred of an intention of following it, I gather," Ramsgate argued. "With me investing eight years of my life on it."

Thoughtful, Eldernell dipped his chin confined in a tight cravat. "What I can do is confiscate any Madalan produce that enters England as an illegal trade."

"Well then, let us get down to it," Nalini urged.

"This may take a few days." The secretary warned. "If you do not mind waiting for word from the Foreign Office in your homes, I will be grateful."

"Fine." Titus agreed. "Take more than a week and the Regent hears of it."

Eldernell's face crumpled. "That is outrageous."

"More than Britain giving its word and reneging on it?" Matilda demanded, gaining a supportive look full of love from her husband.

Reginald's cheeks went bright red with such an outspoken woman. Between the outspoken and the woman part, no one doubted which he loathed most.

After they'd left the Chandrakars, then the Duke and Duchess of Rutherford in their respective townhouses, the Earl and Countess of Ramsgate arrived at theirs.

The two carriages that had been parked by the Foreign Office, one with the women and the other with the men, departed it with the couples along with father and daughter.

Upon entering, Ophelia requested tea to be served in her favoured drawing room. Leonard held no qualms at following her.

As soon as the footmen brought the tea and left, the Earl propped on the closed door, arms crossed while his wife, poised as usual, perched on the settee, straight spine, her delicate hands floating the cup to her hard-to-resist lips.

"Feel free to start at your convenience." He cared not that it contained an undoubtful command.

Those hazel orbs lifted to him, one hand holding the sauce; the cup halted midway between the latter and her mouth. "Start what?" Genuine quizzicalness tinted her question.

He crossed one foot over the other. "Explaining yourself as to why you left the house when you should be resting."

"Oh, that." The cup reached the sauce like a plume. "You can't have forgotten that just yesterday Doctor Archer and Mrs Slater were here and pronounced me in complete health."

"I did not." He'd stood in the bedchamber following the examination in all its details. "But you are not supposed to flit around like a debutante." Even less now that the first signs of her condition began to show. As much as he hoped, his male boastfulness in having caused it did not—show, that is.

"Debutante, hm." A dainty index touched her chin. "Now that is a na?ve chapter I wish never to go back to." She'd been one when she married him, and he did not feel proud of the implications.

He understood her all too well. He missed not the green lad he'd once been. "Do not distract from the point here." He pushed from the wooden panel and strode to the middle of the room.

A slight lift and fall moved her shoulder. "It is not like I went on a brisk walk along the serpentine." She placed the empty cup and sauce on the silver tea tray. "I was sitting most of the outing." Her hands joined on her lap. "And you will agree with me that the cause was of the utmost urgency."

"You ladies saw that we took matters into our own hands," he defended as he sat across from her.

"The lordlings took their sweet time, I must say." A side grin stretched her rosy lips as she eyed him from under her long lashes.

Only the fact that his tutors beat a gentleman's education into his skull prevented him from sweeping her to the Aubusson to have his way with her.

His wife had the right of it. He and his crew only drove to the Foreign Office because they followed Nalini there. "We would have worked out the same results."

"I am certain of it." She paused and gifted him with her sweetest smile. "In a year or so, perhaps."

He could not hold his chuckle at her feistiness.

At night, Leonard exited his dressing room in his usual pajamas . He spotted his wife sitting on their bed's edge, her back to him. Her fingers cradled a little jar in the middle of unstopping it.

"What is that?" He intended to announce his presence with the question.

She also dressed in her customary lacy nightgown and robe, the ones he found himself in constant peril of tearing apart in the darkest hours. The only things that kept him from it were her health and the child's.

Her torso twisted to him, her long blonde braid over her shoulder. "Mrs Slater recommended I use almond oil to help the skin adjust to the stretching." She motioned to the jar.

He looked at the jar, then looked at her covered midriff, then swallowed grit. "And you are doing it now."

His wife nodded. "She said before bed is better."

He cleared his throat. "Want some help?"

Her eyes blinked in the candlelight, with an intake of air between those delectable lips. "That would be nice." Her teeth sank into the cushiony bottom one. In the dim light, it came more breath than sound. Without his prompt, she undressed the robe and propped on the pillow against the headboard.

It surprised Leonard that he could walk because the idea of touching her after so long turned him into a raunchy bastard. His feet prowled to the bed as he climbed it until he reached her. Their eyes meshed in the blazes from the fireplace.

With reverence due to a supreme goddess, he touched the gown's hem. His gaze slid to hers. "May I?"

"Yes," she murmured as her lashes rolled down.

He lifted the lacy fabric to reveal a small bump that worsened his arousal at the thought that he put it there. His hand pried the jar from her slack fingers before he poured its content on his palm and neared it to her skin. Her eyes lowered to his hand as he did the same. He splayed his fingers over her navel to spread the oil over her midriff. It got his already alert cock so hard it became painful. In ever-slow circles, he widened the covered area until his wrist brushed the underside of a breast. Her intake of breath echoed in the silent room and his eyes flicked up at the same second hers rounded on him.

His clear mind vanished together with his sense of morality, and he closed the distance between them. From here he could see the intense flush rising on her cheeks. He raised his palm from her skin only to register the slight pleat forming on her brow as though he went against her wishes. He replenished his hand with the perfumed oil and returned to her midriff. The moment their skins connected, her tongue darted out to moisten her cushiony lower lip. His brain mucked over whereas his hand seemed to be in perfect condition because it snuck beneath the lace and cupped a breast that felt plumper than he remembered. The feel of the delicate skin sliding under his touch caused his cock to overflow with moisture.

"Leonard," his name fell between them like a plea. "We can't." Her protest came slathered in lament.

"We will not." He moved closer. "I promise." With weeks' worth of hunger, his mouth fell upon her already awaiting one. Their mouths latched and devoured each other as if they would never meet again. His slick thumb and forefinger pulled at her nipple as she emitted a sound in her throat. His other palm held her nape to deepen a kiss that was heaven and hell wrapped in an atrocious rapacity.

When they needed air, his mouth slid down her neck because he could not get enough of her. The hands that had been wrapped around her nape came to pull her gown's neckline; it fell until it revealed the other breast. Ravenous, his mouth covered it. Her head fell back with a moan while he suckled on the engorged tip as if his life depended on it.

"They are so much more sensitive!" she exclaimed as if in agony, her fingers meshing in his hair.

After what seemed ages, his hand and his mouth left her delicious breasts. The latter trailed up to the junction of her neck and shoulders.

"You are the most beautiful woman to ever grace this planet." He groaned as his teeth scored the skin there.

His lathered hand slithered down her body until it found the drenched nub between her legs. He did not need to ask. Her legs parted to give him way as her arms twined about him. He toyed with the little cluster of nerves, causing her to wiggle her hips in search of more.

"I wish you could fill me," she whispered.

His middle finger strolled round and round, feeling as the smart thing puffed and puffed.

His torso pressed her to the headboard, his breath ragged. "You have no idea how I wanted to grant your wish." The mere thought threatened to shame him.

"Do not stop," she begged. "Oh, never stop." Her head fell on his shoulder.

Not only did he not stop but also, he sped up. Her arms locked him to her as her breathing became irregular. Her flesh quivered as she screamed against his shoulder. He rode her pleasure up to the point she let go of him; her back falling on the headboard, where she stayed for endless minutes.

Unwilling to bother her, he lay down on his side of the bed. The problem was that the thin cotton of his pantaloons made it quite obvious what went on beneath them.

"You look like you could use a hand yourself." His head twisted to her as she said that.

"I will solve the problem later." It would be sheer torture to wait for her to fall asleep so he could stroke the nuisance into giving him some peace.

But his wife turned to him, a dainty hand reaching for the cord keeping him civilised. With no hesitation, she pulled it, the ends falling to the sides to reveal his enormous erection with the reddened, moist tip.

"I will be happy to lend a…helping hand," she taunted as she picked up the little jar and poured oil on her palm.

"What are you doing, woman?"

Her lips stretched into a small grin. "Why, making myself useful, husband." Then she placed her slathered hand on his balls and stroked him from bottom to tip.

"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. She did it again and his hips lifted to get more pressure. If she continued with this, he was bound to explode like a cannonball.

All too soon, her fingers wrapped around the stem and made it worse, so much worse. He looked at her, one breast exposed, gown hem rucked to her upper thighs. This goddess was going to kill him.

Her warm hand, coupled with the slippery oil, made it feel almost like the real thing. His body was so primed that he had not a chance to last. She fisted him from top to bottom and hardened to desperate levels. In his mind's eye, he saw himself trapping her on the mattress and ramming into her slick folds like a madman. It took all his willpower to stay put and watch her hand drive him to insanity.

"Can I lick it?" she asked as her hand worked him to devastation. He hoped her breezy tone not to be deliberate.

"No!" he answered, too quick and too harsh. "No need," he said with more calm. "You are doing much more than I ever dreamed." If she used those soft lips on him, he would be lost. But thinking about it pushed him to the very brink.

"Faster," he growled.

She did his bidding, and he eyed his member, the glans hiding and showing as her lathered palm covered and revealed it. The angry red shone with pre-cum. His balls tightened, and he realised she had not the faintest idea of what she was doing to him. At that minute, if she asked him to go bathe in the Thames, he would with a stupid gleeful grin on his face if only she did not loosen her fingers.

As he neared his demise, his grunts became more urgent. He froze, only his gasps moving the air. When it happened upon him, he had no chance of avoiding the repeated squirts that pooled on his belly. She extracted from him all he had, and he fell on the pillow like a vanquished cad, his breath leaving him in a long hiss.

Ophelia lay down, head on his chest, an arm around his abs.

At last, the fog in his brain dissipated, and his head turned to her. "Send Ann tomorrow to buy buckets of almond oil."

A brief laugh escaped her. "Done."

As husband and wife sat at breakfast, Knott came with two letters on his silver tray. "This came for you, my lord," he said, then turned to her. "And this is for you, my lady."

Eyeing each other with intrigued expressions, they opened their respective letters.

"It's from Philippa," she revealed.

"It's from Brunswick," he said at the same time. "According to him, Eldernell worked faster than usual."

"It seems that the Foreign Office refrained from messing up with a prince, two dukes, and an earl all at once." Ophelia's amused voice left no doubt about what she thought of it. More than that, the secretary would not risk his wife and four daughters to get a cut direct from prominent noblewomen of the ton , not when he had still to marry the four young ladies.

Leonard gifted her with a lopsided grin that she thought was rather rakish. "He is calling a meeting with the gents."

"And the ladies, even if he does not know it," Ophelia defied.

Her husband extended one large hand over the table as he turned to her. "Is there a chance of you ladies staying out of this?"

She stretched her lips in a sweet smile. "Zero."

One broad shoulder lifted and fell. "Useless to ask when you know the answer."

"We agree on something, at least."

Ophelia had arranged a dinner party for the evening after the meeting. Besides the eight people who'd been to the Foreign Office, she'd also invited Mr and Mrs Russel, who happened to be in town.

"You should have seen Lord Eldersmere's face when he saw the eight of us entering his office." Philippa recounted. "Again."

They all sat around the dinner table.

"Not to mention his derogatory manners towards me and my father," Nalini added, dressed in one of her magnificent sarees.

"We would think that these people would show more respect to those feeding the English economy." Percy Russel had a scowl on his rugged face when he said that. "Without the Indian cotton, I would have nothing to work with."

"You must be the only English person to acknowledge that." Prince Arjuna entered the conversation.

"In the name of all our people," Elvina started. "I will take the opportunity to thank you and your country for your generous contribution."

Nalini decided it not to be the time to express that in most cases it was a forced one. Instead, she praised her interlocutor. "Your words mean a lot. Thank you, Mrs Russel." And received a gracious nod from Elvina.

"I had a hard time believing that the secretary would throw his weight around," Titus said.

"But he did call the East India Company directors to task," Matilda declared.

"I am sure they did not forget that the English crown can confiscate their colonies if it sees fit." Hadrian clarified. History would prove him right when Queen Victoria did exactly that forty-odd years later.

"I doubt they will follow suit with their other agreements," Ramsgate disputed.

"So this is our small but significant victory," Ophelia celebrated.

"Shall we drink to that?" Philippa suggested.

They raised their crystal glasses and cheered. "To fairness in trade," Leonard called.

"I hope the Prince and Princess will have time to honour us with a visit to the Russel Cotton Mills up in Manchester." Elvina invited.

Arjun turned to her. "Regrettably, we will have to decline your kind invitation."

"We intend to set sail as soon as it can be arranged," Nalini informed with a forlorn expression to her.

"Our homes are open to you at any time you wish to return," Ophelia said with genuine warmth.

"So is ours, my lady," Nalini reciprocated.

Hours later, the prince and Ramsgate sat in his study, going over the paperwork that Eldersmere had given them as a guarantee that the agreement would stand.

"I hope one day you can find it in you to forgive me, Ramsgate," Arjuna asked. "For the eight years, I retained you in my palace." His head bent down. "You were my only chance at a decent bargain."

"It is all water under the bridge, Chandrakar," Leonard tried to dismiss.

"No doubt your marriage suffered for that." As he tilted his head, the silk in his turban shone in the candlelight.

"We are patching it up." Leonard had no way of denying the rift he encountered on his return to England. "And it was for a greater good."

"But still…" Chandrakar made to continue.

"Rest assured that I hold no grudges." Leonard looked the older man in the eye as he remarked that in a sincere tone.

"You are a true nobleman."

It surprised Leonard that Arjun and he were having this conversation after so much had gone on between them. In all fairness, he was the one who owed an apology to the prince on behalf of what his people did in the colonies. He'd been a witness to what went on abroad and did not think it strange that the Prince of Madala did what he did and when he did it, even if he'd been in the direct line of fire of the whole debacle. Nevertheless, he spoke what lay in his heart and considered it bygones. Those years in Madala had been eye-opening and his stay allowed for a friendship to arise, fraught with politics as it was, but still a friendship.

"And you are a true prince for putting your people first, my friend."