“Miss Singh,” Celia sneers. “You’re still in London? I thought you’d have left by now.”

“Oh! Why would I want to leave?” Aaliya gives Celia a sweet smile and then turns to me, cupping my cheek. “I have what I want right over here beside me.”

Her bold eyes sparkle with a mischievous slant. It makes me smile and also, deep down I’m proud of her because she’s capable of looking out for herself. I slide my cheek against her hand and kiss the center of her palm.

Aaliya

AND ONCE AGAIN CELIA Parker is trying to ruin a perfectly fine night. The Duchess and she exchange a look after Damien and my display. They, however, choose to ignore us and immediately dive into the menu card in front of them.

The Duchess flicks her finger and a server rushes towards her.

“Call the chef. Tell him the Duchess of Kittridge is here,” she instructs in a haughty voice.

We all sit in awkward silence until the chef shows up and speaks to her in French. She converses with him easily and points several times at the menu. The chef addresses Damien, once again in French, and I have to literally force myself to remain calm and not exhibit any shock when I hear him reply in smooth and flawless French. My mind scrambles in disbelief because in five years of living with him, I didn’t know he could speak another language.

I turn away from them and my eyes clash with Celia. She gives me a disdainful look before turning away from me. She inserts herself into the conversation, her own French sounding perfect while I sit beside the three of them unable to follow a single word they are saying.

The chef turns to me and says something I don’t follow. I smile at him and shake my head, but before I can say anything Celia interjects, “Miguel is asking what you would like to eat? I could help you translate,” she says in a condescending voice.

“Thank you, Celia,” I turn to the chef. “Apologies I don’t speak French but I’m sure you must speak English.”

“Of course, Madame,” he replies with a pronounced accent. “What would Madame like to eat?”

I discuss my options with him and finally choose a grilled fish with vegetables on the side.

Damien addresses him once more. They both turn to me as they speak. I give Damien a confused look and he smiles at me before continuing to converse with the chef. The chef bobs his head in my direction and Damien laughs at something the chef says. He grasps my hand nodding his head while the Duchess and Celia look at me, sour expressions stamped on their faces.

“What was that about?” I question Damien once Miguel leaves.