Married To The Devil

Met His Match

Unhappily, she decided she couldn't do anything properly today, not even talk. Her thoughts were interrupted as Nawab pushed her forward with a fistful of her skirt, his fist poking her between the bum... unintentionally, she was sure.

"Wife, the Chatterjee's. Chatterjee's, my wife," Nawab announced as he directed them all up the path again.

Uruvi rolled her eyes at his idea of an introduction, but then smiled as graciously as she could manage and said, "Welcome."

Raani Chatterjee—at least Uruvi thought she must be Raani. Chatterjee, though it was hard to say after that introduction, she thought irritably chuckled.

"Call me Esha, dear. My name is Eshwari, but only people I don't like call me that. "

"And I am Uruvi," she murmured, glancing impatiently back at her husband, who was still holding the back of her kurti and trying to steer her by it.

She attempted to brush his hand away and take over holding the kurti with her own free hand, but he ignored her efforts and merely scowled.

She scowled right back and pinched the back of his hand.

"We heard Nawab had found himself a bride and couldn't resist coming to meet you," Raani Chatterjee said, distracting her.

Giving up on her husband for the moment, Uruvi turned back at that announcement and offered a smile. "And I am glad you did. "

"So am I," Esha said with amusement, as Nawab broke them apart by shifting Uruvi to the right by his hold on her kurti.

It was only then that Uruvi noticed the puddle she was about to walk through.

Still, she cast a glare back at her husband and once again tried to free herself from his hold, this time resorting to digging her nails into the skin of his hand rather than pinching him.

A low chuckle then drew her attention to the fact that the Chatterjee men—one older and probably Esha's husband, and a younger one of about Nawab's age who she thought might be their son—were grinning at these antics as they followed them up the path.

"Yes, we heard Nawab had found himself a bride, but no one mentioned he had met his match," the younger Chatterjee man said, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "This will be interesting to see how the Devil of Indraprastha deals with a wife who doesn't automatically obey as everyone else does. "

Nawab let go of her skirt and shot a harsh glare at the man, but he only chuckled and slapped his shoulder.

"Come on, Nawab, cheer up, or I'll tell everyone you're attached to your wife by her skirt strings."

Uruvi's eyes widened at the man's taunt, but she turned to look at Raani Chatterjee, who chuckled and grabbed her arm, encouraging her forward once more. "Don't worry about them, my dear. Tanuj, my son, and your husband have been friends for a long time."

She smiled at the words of reassurance but shot an anxious look back to make sure the men hadn't gotten into a fight.

Nawab, on the other hand, was walking between the two Chatterjee men, listening to something the older man was saying and didn't seem bothered in the least.

He also wasn't holding her skirt up anymore, Uruvi realized, and was relieved to take over the task for herself for the rest of the walk.

Her relief lasted only until they arrived at the castle staircase. Uruvi hesitated and grasped her skirt to avoid tripping, then gasped as her husband scooped her into his arms.

"You'll trip in that ridiculous kurti," he muttered as he carried her past Raani Chatterjee, who was now openly giggling.

Uruvi clenched her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, wondering when and where she had lost her dignity.