“You were?” she asked, surprised. He’d always been more than willing to be there for her and offer his friendship and wisdom, but she couldn’t recall his ever making such a remark.

“I can’t very well go hunting you down in the house in the wee hours of the morning,” he added, and she felt all the more surprised. He then pulled an envelope from between the pages of the book he’d been reading and held it toward her. Hope and excitement battled with dread and fear inside of her, making her heart race and her breathing suddenly became shallow. She already knew what it was, even before he said, “Henry came by last night; asked me to give this to you.”

“I don’t know if I should even take it,” Amala said, unconsciously pressing a hand over her heart. “Maybe it’s better if I don’t know what it says.”

“And wonder for the rest of your life?” Everett asked, making a valid point. “I think the man at least deserves to have you read what he’s taken the time to write, and he did come all the way out here to bring it himself.”

Amala still hesitated to take the letter. “You like him,” she stated.

“Can’t think of a reason not to,” Everett said and shook the letter, implying that he was growing tired of holding it with his hand outstretched.

Amala stepped forward and took it. She saw her name written elegantly on the envelope and just stared at it. “If I were an English woman, your recommendation of his character would mean everything to me. Given who I am, I think it only makes the situation more difficult. If you thought he was a blackguard or a scoundrel, my decision would perhaps be easier to accept.”

“Have you ever considered the possibility that you might be wrong?” Everett asked.

Amala snapped her gaze toward him, astonished and mildly angry. “You, of all people, know that I did not come to this realization lightly. I’m only trying to protect the—”

“I know what you’re trying to do, dear girl,” he said, not even slightly ruffled by her agitation. “I’m just saying that . . . sometimes a situation changes; sometimes there’s things you didn’t count on . . . things you couldn’t see coming. I’m not going to tell you what to do; I’d never tell you what to do. I’m just thinking that . . . it wouldn’t hurt for you to consider that maybe there’s something here you hadn’t considered before.”

“And what’s that?” Amala asked.