DISCLAIMER: All characters are borrowed from Libba Bray. No money is being made from the publication of this story.
Another Way – Chapter 3
As Gemma sits in her father's study, talking to him quietly, I wait in the parlor with her brother Tom. He says nothing but throws questioning glances my way from his armchair. It might as well be a throne from the condescending way he looks at me. But I care not. I am too preoccupied with what is happening in the other room. My entire future is in the hands of a man who has never even considered me for his precious daughter. My entire life decided by a single yes or no. I would have gone in first to speak with Mr. Doyle and ask for his daughter's hand, as a man should. But Gemma insisted she talk to him beforehand. That is one of the things I love about her: her courageous willingness to dispense with tradition. Gemma assures me she will marry me whether her father agrees or not. She tells me this is more a symbolic act than anything else. But I would much rather that our marriage get off to a better start than a forbidden elopement. There is always the chance that she will change her mind once her father makes her see "reason." Agitated, I get up to pace the room, and Tom steps in my path.
My jaw tightens and I clench my fists. It is a reflex and I suppress it when I remember that this is Gemma's brother, flesh and blood to the woman I love, the woman I hope to call my wife. "Something you wanted, Tom?" I say coolly.
He regards me with disdain. "What is this all about? Why has Gemma been holed up in our father's study for hours?"
I scoff inwardly at his whining. But I answer in a civil tone, "I do not believe it is my place to tell you. Your sister has that honor." He glares at me, and it is plain that he still sees me as his father's hired coachman rather than the man who, along with his sister, saved him from the Rakshana.
Tom resumes his seat, and I resume pacing the floor. It has felt like hours, though I know it has been all of forty minutes. Finally, after what seems like another eternity, the study door opens quietly and Gemma crosses the hall into the parlor. She glances at Tom then lets her vivid green eyes rest on me, and I feel as if I could melt into the floor. A small smile graces her beautiful pink lips. I want to kiss them so badly, but not while Tom is in the room. I must content myself with staring at her beauty…for now.
"Kartik, Father would like to see you in his study," she says sweetly, and from the way she looks at me I know she feels the same longing.
"Thank you, Gemma," I reply. Out of the corner of my eye I see Tom start, shocked by our familiarity. He is beginning to understand. I allow my hand to lightly brush her arm as we pass each other, and I am thrilled by the familiar tingling sensation that comes every time I touch her. Tom settles into his armchair, grumbling. If his father agrees to our plan, he has no choice but to accept it as well. He is not yet the head of the family, and I do believe he loves his sister, though he does not always show it. He will come around in time, I tell myself. That is, if we can get beyond this first obstacle.
My heart pounds as I raise a hand to knock on the study door. I have never felt this kind of fear, not even on my most dangerous missions as a member of the Rakshana. So this is what love does to a man. I rap on the door sharply, and Mr. Doyle's feeble "Enter" floats from the room.
It is suffocatingly warm inside, and dark as well. Mr. Doyle is not a healthy man, and his constitution cannot take anything less than this stifling heat. That is why his family has booked him passage to India on the H.S. Orlando, leaving at the earliest possibility. He might not yet know that Gemma and I intend to do the same.
I close the door gently and sit where he indicates. He says nothing for a while, only stares at me with a penetrating gaze that belies his inner strength. Finally, he clears his throat and says, "So, Gemma tells me that the two of you intend to marry."
I force myself to look him in the eye. "Yes, sir. I asked her the day of her graduation from Spence."
He shakes his head, and that cold fear grips my heart again. "How did this happen? Has this been going on since you entered into my employment?"
Of course, I chide myself inwardly. Naturally, he would assume we fell in love when I took the job as his coachman to be close to her. He thinks he knows the truth, but he wants to hear it from my own lips. I was Rakshana then and charged with guarding the High Priestess of the Order. Later, I admitted to myself that I had other reasons for wanting to be close to her. However, I cannot tell him all this. I do not like to lie; it is not honorable. But Gemma has relayed to me what happened when she tried to tell him about the Realms, the Order, the threat of the Rakshana to Tom. She must have reinforced this idea of his, that I met and courted her under her father's roof. I must continue the lie. There is no choice.
"Yes, sir. Gem--Miss Doyle and I, we spent time together while I was here. We…We fell in love, sir." I watch carefully for his reaction. When it comes, his tears surprise me.
"All my life, I have only wanted to see her happy. She is my angel. You know this?" he asks me sharply.
"Yes, sir. I know." And she is mine, too, I continue in my head.
He sighs. "This is not what I expected for my daughter."
Though I see the truth in his words, they still sting. "I don't think either of us expected this either, sir," I say honestly. "But we do love each other very much.
He is silent, considering. "I assume she has told you that her grandmother left her quite an inheritance when she died."
The implication angers me, but I know he speaks only out of concern for Gemma. Her grandmother passed away a few days after her graduation, and we wanted to wait a respectable amount of time before making our intentions known to her family. It has been weeks since the funeral and the reading of her grandmother's will. I stop myself from pointing out that our engagement was set before then. Though Gemma was deeply saddened by her passing, the independence it has afforded her has made her happy. She says it will help ease us into our new life together, though I do not intend to let her shoulder the burden. Far from it.
"I am an honorable man, sir," I say simply.
He looks at me again, and this time I see something like respect in his eyes. "I know that." He looks old, tired. "You may not think I remember, Kartik, but I know that you were there the night Gemma saved me from...that place." He is referring to Chin's opium den in the most deplorable part of London, and I see the memory of it still brings him pain. "I know you showed bravery equal to my daughter's. I also know that you would do anything to protect her."
I nod vigorously. "Anything, sir. Anything in the world."
He gives me a small smile, the first I have seen from him. "I also understand you intend to live in India. I wonder if you've considered what this means, that you will have to look after your old father-in-law until the end of his days?"
My heart thumps loudly as I realize what he is saying. "Then sir…You mean, you are consenting to this marriage?"
He stands up, though it is a great effort for him, and I rise to meet him. I grasp his outstretched hand. "Yes, I give you my consent, on the condition that you will love her as much as she deserves to be loved." He gives me a stern look. "And that is quite a lot, Mr. Kartik."
I cannot keep myself from grinning. "I already do, sir."
