“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” he said, sounding as astonished as he felt.

“Eventually you will have to believe it,” she said, “because that’s just the way it is. And in case it’s crossed your mind that perhaps I could find a suitable match among people like the servants who came back from India with your friend, allow me to point out that this too would be considered inappropriate. If I were to marry a servant I would be considered a part of the serving class. I’m not against having to work, but it would sever me from my family. And they are everything to me. They are all I have.” He heard her sniffle and realized she was crying again.

“You have me,” he said, still holding her hand. “At the very least we are friends.”

She turned to look at him—and he clearly saw his own thoughts mirrored in her eyes. She didn’t want to be only a friend to him any more than he wanted to simply be her friend. Looking at her beautiful face while everything she’d just said rumbled through his mind, he felt as if he were locked in some ancient torture device. He didn’t know how to talk her into changing her mind, and he couldn’t deny his own naiveté and ignorance, which made it impossible for him to offer any reasonable argument. In that moment he could only hope that with time she would change her mind and allow him to court her.

As if she’d read his mind, she said while she squeezed his hand, “You must promise me that you will not speak to my father—or to anyone else, for that matter. You must promise me. If you care for me at all, you must promise me.”

“I do care for you, Amala—more than I can say. But I heartily disagree, and my silence feels hypocritical.”

“Do it for me,” she said.

“I can’t do it without the hope that something will change.”

“You mustn’t hope,” she said with a conviction in her voice that was a complete contradiction to what he saw in her eyes. At least he didn’t feel alone in his confusion.

Suddenly frozen as if they’d both turned to stone statues there in the garden, Henry could only stare into her black eyes and wish for some reasonable solution to the strength of all he was feeling. She didn’t seem any more eager to look away than he did. It was as if they were trying to memorize each other, trying to hold on to this moment with the fear that it would be all they’d ever have.