Back in the ballroom everything appeared just the same as it had been when she’d left. It took only a moment of scanning the room to spot Kat having a wonderful time on the dance floor, and her parents were doing the same. Glad to know she’d not been missed, Amala was disappointed to find that the chair she’d been using earlier was now occupied by a rather large woman who was taking up a great deal of both chairs on either side of her. Amala walked discreetly in the other direction around the perimeter of the ballroom until she found a place to sit. She was glad to note how many people were caught up in the dancing; otherwise, there might not have been any vacant chairs.

The fresh air had felt good and had cooled her down somewhat, but it only took a minute before she flipped open her fan and began using it, rehearsing in her mind how Henry had told her he’d hated the heat and the bugs in India. She’d not remembered how much hotter it had been there in contrast to England, but it was one more reason to feel that—in spite of certain challenges—she was much more suited to England. If she could barely tolerate the heat of a crowded ballroom, surely the climate of India would undo her.

Recalling other bits and pieces of her conversation with Henry, she now wished she’d not rushed away so hastily. Now that she was here, sitting alone as she often did on such occasions, she missed his cordial company and the way they’d so quickly gained a comfortable rapport. She wondered then if she would ever see him again, and the thought saddened her. People came from all over for this sort of social gathering. She had no idea where he lived; for that matter she knew absolutely nothing about him—except that he’d spent nine years in India. And that Howard Roderick was his closest, lifelong friend. Henry couldn’t live too far away from here, she concluded. Although the Roderick home was nearly an hour’s drive by carriage from her own home.

Amala stopped herself from such silly speculations when the music ended and everyone applauded. A moment later her mother was seated next to her, patting her arm in her typical way.

“Oh, there you are, darling,” Viola Hepworth said. “I was trying to find you earlier. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, fine,” Amala said. “I only took a brief stroll in the garden to get away from the heat.”

“How very brilliant of you!” Viola said and exchanged a wink with her husband, Oliver, who was chatting nearby with a couple of other men near his age.