and her eyes fell away. They’d been full of wariness and vulnerability. He sensed her hesitancy, but he needed answers and he would have them.
“Sarani?”
She exhaled, hazel eyes flaring at the use of her given name, the words following in a rush. “The reason we left India is because my father was murdered. And I believe whoever killed him is on that ship that’s been following us. With the intent of finishing what he started.”
* * *
The confession wasn’t as difficult as Sarani had thought it would be, though Rhystan was still blinking in stunned surprise as if he’d been expecting something else. She assumed that he would have thought she was running from a scorned lover or an irate husband. Not a murderer.
“What happened to Lord Lockhart?”
Her mouth fell open, even though she’d expected him to be thinking along those lines. “That’s what you want to ask me? After I tell you the Maharaja of Joor, my father, was murdered and we’re being tracked by his killer?”
“Answer the question, Countess.”
Sarani rolled her lips between her teeth, but then shook her head. Telling him the truth would not hurt them at this point, and Asha was right that they were in the middle of the ocean with no options but what they had at hand. Which were Rhystan, his ship, and his men.
She walked over to the desk, poured herself some whisky, and took a healthy swallow, not even gasping when the liquor burned a hot path from her throat straight down to her quivering belly. She took another sip for good measure. For courage.
“There is no Lord Lockhart, not in the way you imagine anyway,” she began, her gaze on the tumbler between her palms. Bringing up the past felt like picking at a nearly healed scab. “In Joor, as you know, my father ordered me to wed Lord Talbot, the regent. I put off the wedding for as long as possible with any excuse I could come up with. At first, it was because I was too young and wanted to wait. My father agreed. And then later, the rebellion and mourning for those who died. Anything to prolong the engagement.” She didn’t hide her shudder at the memory of Talbot—his ashen, almost skeletal features and those watery eyes that stripped her bare every time they fell upon her. “He was odious.”
“Wait, you didn’t marry? Markham told me that you had.”
Sarani didn’t miss the stunned rage that darkened his expression. She shook her head. “No. The wedding was supposed to be the day after I ran.” She drew a breath. “When my father was assassinated, I knew it was only a matter of time before Talbot or the murderer would come for me. I suspect my cousin Vikram was behind it. He has the most to gain, though he would not have acted without Talbot’s help.” She lifted the glass, thought about it, and then set it down on the desk. She didn’t need her mind muddled. “Tej got us to Bombay, so we decided to leave on a ship in the dead of night that just so happened to be yours.”
“What are the odds?” he murmured.
Sarani was not particularly religious, but destiny—or karma as she learned from the Upanishads: the philosophical law of ritual action and its effect in the universe—did indeed seem to have a twisted sense of humor. Fate had decided to throw them together once more.
“Slim to none, rather.” Sparing him a glance, she shot him a tiny, wry smile. “England was the only place I could think of where we could be safe. My maternal grandfather was the youngest son of the Earl of Beckforth, who married a Scottish countess. My mother had saved documents of the property she had inherited through my great-grandmother’s title, and I decided to take her maiden name of Lockhart.” She exhaled and reached for another bracing sip of whisky.
“Traveling as Princess Sarani Rao was much too conspicuous, and it’s easier to travel without a companion as a widow. I just didn’t expect to run into you.” Sarani swallowed hard. “But then, once we were away from Indian shores, I thought we might be safe. Obviously, we’re not. Whoever killed my father has followed us and means me harm. Or it’s Talbot, coming to claim his due.”
They stared at each other in silence, her hand rising to her pounding heart as she tried to catch her breath from the confession that had tumbled out.
“I am sorry for your