CHAPTER TWO
"Sit down, Bitiya," Grandfather Trisanu chided Eliza, calling her granddaughter in Hindi as he usually did.
She'd paced the lobby the last ten minutes, waiting for Rajvinder's driver to show up. If he showed up. She wasn't entirely convinced that incredibly angry man would keep this dinner date.
Appointment. Not date.
This was not a date. No matter how interesting and attractive she found Rajvinder Adhip Acharya and despite the fact they had to discuss, what for other people would be very private, intimate matters.
"Child!"
She sat, crossing her legs, uncrossing them. Clasping her hands, unclasping them, unable to sit still.
"Did you learn nothing at that university you insisted on attending rather than finishing school? I know my daughter-in-law has done a better job training you than this behavior would indicate. You must stop this fidgeting."
He was just being harsh because he was nervous too, she reminded herself. While Grandfather would never admit it, he was not nearly as confident of Rajvinder taking over the role as heir as the older man pretended to be.
Eliza might have been the one to suggest this move to the Maharajah, but he was well aware that he had no other options. Adhip uncle and Tabish auntie had remained childless until becoming guardians to Eliza sixteen years ago. His second son and wife, Mayurika had only had one child, Dev.
Who had been gone now for a year.
"Sorry, Dadaji."
"It will be all right, Bitiya. He may not have been raised to be one of us, but he is all the same. He will do his duty. His mother is a good, traditional Indian woman. She will have raised him mindful of his obligation to family."
"If you think so highly of her, why didn't Adhip uncle marry her?" Eliza would never have asked such a question a year ago, but a lot had changed since the loss of her guardian/father figure and the man she'd been promised to marry. Her best friend.
"She was from the Vaishnav caste. While from a respectable and quite wealthy family, she was not born to rule, or marry into royalty."
"But the royal families haven't reigned since the 1940s." Royalty had been a nominal title since the fight for independence from Britain and they'd lost even their remaining special privileges and income when the Privy Purse was abolished in the 1970s.
"It is still a different life, as well you know. Our family has a responsibility to lead in politics and the business sector. Our lifestyle is not one you can simply drop into. A woman should be raised to be a princess, to join the dynasty."
"If that's true then how can Rajvinder take over as prince?" Sometimes the more antiquated views of her surrogate grandfather were very hard for Eliza to understand, much less accept.
She knew that his remaining son, Veeresh did not necessarily agree with his father, though he rarely did that disagreeing to the Maharajah's face.
"Sometimes needs must."
It was such a simple viewpoint for a terribly complicated situation and did not in any way explain why Badriyah, who at least had been raised in a privileged household in India was not acceptable, but her Western raised son was.
Eliza said none of this however, knowing Grandfather Trisanu's patience would only stretch so far.
She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see who was walking toward them.
Rajvinder, taller than any other member of the Mahapatras family at over six feet, crossed the lobby with a confident stride. He wore a different suit than the one in his office, but this one fit him just as perfectly and could be nothing but bespoke. The man might be a business tycoon, but he had the build of someone who spent time working out.
She shivered a little with the knowledge of what she had to discuss with this perfect specimen of masculinity. She'd never gotten butterflies in her belly over Dev, but Rajvinder reminded her that she was not just a research scientist, she was a woman.
Espresso brown eyes snapped with annoyance when they landed on Grandfather, Rajvinder's strong jaw looking hewn from rock.
Grandfather's lips thinned, but he stood and faced his estranged grandson. "Good evening, Rajvinder."
"I prefer Vin, but since we are not friends, you may call me Acharya." After offering that statement sure to offend Grandfather's sensibilities, Rajvinder…no Vin, inclined his head. "Trisanu." There was no warmth in the business mogul's acknowledgment of the other man.
"I trust you will not keep Eliza out too late," Dadaji said, making no concession to, and surprisingly no argument against Vin's request to be called Acharya.
"Is she a child that she requires a curfew?" Vin asked sarcastically.
Annoyance flashed through Eliza. Why did Rajvinder (she purposefully gave him the name in her head) insist on making every concern Grandfather had for her wellbeing into some kind of insult? Did he have no concept of even trying to meet a person half-way?
"We are not having a traditional dinner. I'm sure I will not be gone too long," Eliza assured the older man, not wanting him to worry.
Rajvinder didn't bother to reply to that, but turned to go, leaving Eliza to follow along like an obedient dog. Was he just stressed? After all, he'd just found out his father was dead and the family that had rejected him, now wanted to recognize him as heir.
Or was Rajvinder just a boor?
The latter did not bode well for her future.
Frowning, she turned and offered Grandfather a smile. "Do not worry about me."
"I cannot help it, Bitiya. This discussion should be happening between his mother and myself. At least part of it, if not all, as you well know."
"In India, perhaps, but Rajvinder has been raised in America. I doubt he's even once considered the possibility of an arranged marriage. His mother didn't follow that path."
"She had no prospects once she chose to keep him."
"Surely it didn't have to be that way."
Grandfather shrugged and Eliza didn't have the time to press him. She doubted Rajvinder would wait patiently for her, wasn't sure he would wait at all.
Relief rushed through her when she found the man leaning in his perfectly tailored light grey suit against the wall near the doors to the outside.
He didn't smile when he saw her, his dark eyes flaring only briefly with something she had no hope of naming. "I thought maybe you had changed your mind about dinner."
"That's not likely, is it? I was saying goodbye to Dadaji."
"Implying I should have done so, only he's not my grandfather. He's not yours either, is he?"
"It's a term of respect." And Trisanu had acted as her dadaji, or grandfather, since the day she'd come to live with the Singh family.
"If you say so."
"Are you always this rude?"
He shrugged, stepping away from the wall. "I do not suffer fools."
"I am not a fool."
Surprise reflected in his gorgeous features. "I never said you were."
"Then perhaps you could extend me some courtesy?"
"And by you, you mean you and the man you call dadaji."
"Your mom was from India." Surely he'd heard, and even used, the familiar term or something like it. "You don't need to sound so mocking."