“Well, talk to me later and find out. Beware though, his version may be colored by my own opinion,” Aaliya replies with a naughty smile.

My lips arch and I tilt my head to the side to observe her better.  “I look forward to that.”

Celia interrupts our banter. “You’re Indian?” she sneers.

Aaliya raises her chin. Her eyes narrow, resting on Celia. “Yes, I am.”

“Aaliya is an interior designer. She owns one of the top design firms in Asia. She works out of Mumbai mostly.” Gabriel interjects from beside her.

Celia arches her eyebrow. “A successful businesswoman from India? That’s quite a surprise. I was under the impression that most Indian women are raised to stay at home and have kids, isn’t it?”

Aaliya’s expression hardens instantly and her eyes blaze. I step in to salvage the situation. “What Celia meant is...” I start to say but Aaliya holds her hand up to stop me.

She addresses Celia directly. “You live in quite an outdated century it seems, although here I thought a titled, rich, educated woman like you would know all about the advancements Indian women have made in technology, business, medicine and whatnot, all while balancing their home lives. Guess I was mistaken in that assumption. Either that or you are just a xenophobe.”

Celia blinks and my lips quirk as I try hard not to laugh.

Seeing Celia’s obvious confusion, Aaliya says, “I guess I ought to explain what that means since you so clearly didn’t understand me. A xenophobe is someone who dislikes or is prejudiced against people from other countries—much like a racist. I hope I’ve clarified your question now Lady Celia.”

Celia’s mouth drops open and she looks as if she’s trying to say something vitriolic but nothing comes out. She’s always been the leader of her pack of females and to see her at a loss for words is rather shocking.

Gabe and I exchange an awkward look while the two women continue to stare daggers at one another. Gabe clears his throat and excuses them.

“Upon my word,” Celia grumbles. “That woman had the gall to insult me in such a manner.”

“Well, most people are proud of where they come from and do not tolerate insults. Perhaps you ought to keep that in mind before you pass derogatory remarks on someone’s background,” I tell her, my eyes still following the delightful Miss Singh.

There is no time for any more conversation as dinner is announced. Aaliya and Gabriel take their seats at their own allotted table and I head to mine, my mind still reeling from Aaliya’s poise and self-confidence.

Aaliya