Free Revolutionary Hearts by Pema Donyo Page A

home.” He felt a swift kick to his left shin beneath the table. He tried to stifle a smirk. “I appreciate you allowing us to stay in your home for the night.”
    “No inconvenience at all.” Ankita set another tin bowl on the table for Parineeta. “I wish this girl would visit me more. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you and Raj.” She threw her arms into the air, exasperated with her niece. “You’ve even married a nice man and haven’t told me!”
    “He is not your son-in-law.” She corrected her aunt with an insistent tone but not before she shot a warning look at Warren.
    Her aunt’s jaw dropped. “You mean without marriage … you two already…”
    “She jokes, of course.” He nearly laughed aloud when he saw Parineeta flush with embarrassment. She looked mortified. He picked up another piece of naan and bit off a section of the delicious flatbread. “We are married, aren’t we,
pagal ladki
?”
    Ankita giggled, shoving Warren’s shoulder in a playful way. “You shouldn’t call your wife such names.”
    His “wife” crossed the floor to the other side of the room. She lifted the cloth separating the two rooms and left the kitchen without another word.
    “Oh!” Ankita frowned. “Was it something I said?”
    He pursed his lips and set his bread back down in his bowl. If he’d learned anything from living among the British gentry, it was that it was always best to apologize first.
    He found her leaning against one of the walls and staring out the window at the dusty, narrow street.
    “Parineeta, I’m sorry.” Warren stepped forward, his brown sandals slapping against the dirt floor. He placed a hand on her arm, and her shoulders stiffened underneath his touch. “I shouldn’t have joked about your marriage.”
    “Why wouldn’t you?” Her voice stretched tight, firm and defiant. All traces of warmth had left her tone. “You, the white male, can have any woman you want.”
    The white male? He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
    He was sure that if he could take one look at her face, he’d see the return of her familiar fiery gaze. “You can have any white woman and any Indian woman, just as you please. You don’t care at all about their feelings, so long as your own needs are met.”
    He furrowed his brow. “I am not like that, Parineeta.”
    She whirled around. “Yes, you are. You’re all the same. My father abandoned my mother, just like you would abandon any woman…”
    “Parineeta!” He grabbed both of her shoulders. She stood there, silent before him. That proud chin of hers tilted upward. The last time she’d given him such a fierce gaze was right before they’d entered the ballroom back at his mansion. “Not all men are the same. Not all men will betray you.”
    “Yes? Then what do you plan to do once you reach Lucknow?”
    Warren dropped his hands. His chest ached at the thought of keeping more information from her. He couldn’t reveal everything … not yet. There was too much to explain.
Raj.
He couldn’t forget to keep tabs on her brother, nor could he afford to let Parineeta know.
    “It doesn’t matter.” Her gaze had fallen from his face and was fixed on something behind him.
    She probably thought the worst of him. Humidity surrounded them all on sides, trapping his untold secrets in the heat. If he did have reason to suspect her brother of anarchist influence, he would have no choice but to inform his bureau chief. Would she even speak to him if she discovered his true reason for spying?
    “Warren.” Her voice sounded clipped, and her wide eyes filled with panic. “Go to the kitchen. Don’t turn around, and get back into the other room right now.”
    “Why?” He stepped forward, but her outstretched hand pushed him back.
    “Soldiers. Outside.” She inclined her head toward the kitchen, all the while keeping her eyes trained on the scene outside the window. “Now
go.
”
    Of course the lieutenant colonel would send more soldiers to the