“I really am,” she said and took him in as well. “What is this?” she asked, momentarily touching the cream-colored linen fabric of his sleeve. He was wearing clothing she had commonly seen worn by men in India, which was a linen shirt that hung loosely down to his hips over the top of loose-fitting trousers of the same fabric. He wore sandals on his feet. “I never saw you dress like this.”

“You never came to my home. I’ve dressed like this while at home for over a decade, Amala. It’s not as practical here in England during the colder months, but during the summer I find it quite accommodating.”

“Well, it suits you,” she said and smiled.

“We weren’t expecting you for at least a couple of months yet,” he said and motioned her toward a chair. “Why the surprise?”

Amala didn’t want to explain their reasons for hurrying home, nor did she want to sit and visit with him right now. “We just decided it was time to come home,” she explained. “I need to freshen up before tea. I just . . . wanted to say hello and . . . let you know we’re here.”

“It’s so good to see you, Amala. I’m very glad you came back early, and I know that Kat will be all the better with your company.”

The way he said it prompted Amala to ask without thinking about whether or not she should, “Is something wrong?”

Amala’s heart quickened when she realized she had expected him to assure her that everything was fine, but she immediately saw something very contrary to that in his eyes. She found no comfort when he said gravely, “That is a conversation you need to have with Kat.”

Amala heard herself gasp as the implication of his words settled in. “Henry, you’re scaring me.”

He looked down abruptly, as if he had no reassurance to offer her on that count either.

“Henry?” she pleaded, glad to feel as comfortable in his presence as she once had.

“Please,” he said, “just . . . talk to Kat.” He reluctantly lifted his eyes to meet hers, and Amala gasped again to see clearly in his expression that he was not only upset about whatever she needed to talk to Kat about, but that he was also terrified.

Amala didn’t bother saying another word before she rushed into the house and up the stairs, going to her rooms for only a few minutes, barely long enough to ensure that she could be comfortable, before she went to Kat’s room and knocked at the door, wondering if she still used the same room now that her husband had moved into the house with her.