Paulina stood and took both of Amala’s hands into hers. “I will support you in whatever you need, my dear, so that you can get through these challenges in your life with as little heartache as possible. Tell me what you want to do.”

“I want to leave here tomorrow, and I will pray that God forgives me for pretending that I didn’t yet receive these letters. I need time to come to terms with this, and I believe God will understand.”

“Yes, I believe He will,” Paulina said and kissed Amala’s forehead. “I’ll tell Miles and Ivy that I have a hankering to get out of this routine and go see some sights, and we’ll all start packing today. Arrangements can be made for us to leave before dawn.”

Amala breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said, far more relieved than she could fathom that she could gracefully avoid the wedding and allow herself some time to be ready to face the man she loved and her sister as husband and wife. Right now it was simply too much to bear.

* * * *

Amala lost track of the weeks and months that she traveled with Paulina, keeping her focus on the fascinating and unique experiences they shared. During her time alone—which was minimal—she read books or wrote in her journal, doing everything she could to avoid thinking about Henry and Kat, knowing they were married by now, and that all written communication her family may have sent to her was likely waiting at the house in France, which she didn’t feel ready to face. But Paulina was only too happy to indulge Amala’s desire to put off returning there, which would mean facing up to the full extent of how she felt about all of this.

Amala knew that eventually she would need to return to England, at least for a significant visit. And she would. But not yet; not until she was ready. She grew increasingly grateful for the comfortable companionship she shared with Paulina, who often declared that she didn’t know how she would ever get along without Amala should she ever decide to take a different course in life beyond traipsing around the world according to Paulina’s whims. For now, Paulina’s wanderlust suited Amala just fine, even if a part of her knew she was hiding and running away. She preferred to think of it more as simply giving herself time to adjust; perhaps it was some of both.