Her Only Desire Read Free Page A

but brought great honor to her family and that of her husband. Burning herself alive in a ritual suicide just to honor her husband’s name!
    There could be no more perfect illustration, Georgie thought, of
everything
that was wrong with the whole institution of marriage—in both their cultures. It gave all the power to the man. And, good heavens, the way females were treated in the East was enough to put any sane woman off marriage entirely!
    A cheeky aphorism from the writings of her famous aunt, Georgiana Knight, the Duchess of Hawkscliffe, trailed through her mind:
Wedlock is a padlock.
Well, today, she would not allow it to become a death sentence, too.
    Then she spotted dear, gentle Lakshmi standing before the blaze in her red silk wedding robes, heavily encrusted with gold and pearls. The raven-haired beauty was staring at the fire as though contemplating what agony she would know before oblivion. Absorbed in her thoughts and no doubt lightly drugged with betel, the dead man’s bride was not yet aware of her British friend’s arrival.
    Angered by the smoke, the white mare reared up a bit on her hind legs as Georgie pulled her mount to a halt at the fringe of the funeral crowd; she gave her horse a firm command to stay and leaped down from the saddle.
    Murmurs rippled around her as she stalked through the gathering, her sandals landing firmly in the dust with each long, limber stride. The tiny silver bells on her anklet tinkled eerily in the hush.
    Everyone knew the two girls had played together since childhood, and that Georgie was far more Indianized than most British folk, so perhaps the relatives thought she had merely come to say her last goodbyes. Lakshmi’s family were wealthy Hindus of the Brahmin caste, on a par with the aristocratic rank of Georgie’s clan in their respective cultures.
    They let her pass.
    Behind her, she now heard Adley’s rather noisy arrival at the edge of the crowd, tumbling along after her, as always, but Balaram’s relatives did not let the foppish young nabob any closer. She could hear him sputtering with indignation.
    â€œI say! This will not do! Miss Knight! I am here—should you need me!”
    Fixed on her purpose, she did not look back, surveying the dire scene before her.
    The massive bonfire had already turned old Balaram’s bones to dust when Lakshmi looked up from the inferno and saw Georgie marching toward her. She faltered slightly at Georgie’s infuriated stare.
    Reaching Lakshmi’s side, Georgie gripped her shoulders with a no-nonsense look and turned her friend away from the flames. “You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to let you go through with this—ridiculous superstition!” she scolded in a hushed tone. “It’s savage and cruel!”
    â€œWhat choice do I have?” Lakshmi’s delicate voice quavered. “I cannot dishonor my family.”
    â€œYou most certainly can! It was bad enough they made you
marry
the old goat, but to die for him, as well? It is obscene!” she whispered furiously.
    â€œBut it isn’t dying, really,” Lakshmi insisted half-heartedly. “I’ll go straight to heaven, and w-when the people pray to me, I’ll grant their wishes.”
    â€œOh, Lakshmi. What have they done to you?” Had the three years her friend had spent living in the strict marital seclusion of purdah robbed her of all common sense? “I know you know better than this!”
    â€œOh, Georgie—my life will be too awful if I live!” she choked out, her big brown eyes filling with tears. “You know how it is for widows. I’ll be an outcast! People will flee me and say I’m bad luck! I’ll be a burden on my family, a-and I’ll have to shave off all my hair,” she added woefully, for Lakshmi’s night-black hair was her crowning glory, hanging all the way to her waist. “What’s the point?” she said in utter