Finally, Amala found the courage to break the wax seal and unfold the letter. She had to move closer to the light in order to more clearly see what was written. At a quick glance she was able to see that the letter began with My Dearest Amala, and that it ended some pages later with, All the love my heart possesses, Henry. The problem was that in between was such a beautifully detailed expression of his devotion that Amala kept having to dab at her eyes to keep her vision from blurring so that she could continue reading. When they had spoken in the garden, she had told him plainly and clearly where she had to stand on the matter of their attraction to one another, but she was now reading a genuine and sincere rebuttal to her every argument. It became evident through his words that he knew a great deal more about the issues of prejudice behind her motives than she’d given him credit for. He declared his firm belief that no matter what governments or society might try to dictate in this world, God surely saw all of His children equally, and that in God’s eyes, surely they could find a way to be right with this.

Amala was completely taken off guard by how much her resolve had melted by the time she finished reading the letter, and after she’d read it through a second time, she was filled with doubt and confusion over matters that had previously seemed completely clear.

Chapter Four

THE SECRET

Startled by the sudden realization of time passing, she wiped her tears, tucked the letter inside her bodice, and hurried into the house, hoping she wouldn’t be terribly late for breakfast and draw attention to herself—or worse, have missed it altogether. She entered the dining room, relieved to see the family all seated there and just beginning to eat.

“Forgive me for being late,” she said and sat down. “I woke early and decided to go for a walk and lost track of the time. Would you pass the marmalade, please?” she added quickly while reaching for a scone, hoping to distract them from any suspicion of the unrest she was experiencing.

“It’s a lovely morning,” her mother said, and typical small talk commenced, which allowed Amala the opportunity to put her emotional response to Henry’s letter into perspective. At least for the moment she could set all of that aside, and being with her family reminded her of how much difficulty she could bring into their lives by making a foolish decision.

As the meal was winding down, Oliver said to Viola, “Oh, I almost forgot. I received a message this morning from Henry Beckenridge.”

Amala coughed but managed to avoid choking, so no one seemed to notice.

Oliver continued. “You remember Henry? The lad who—”

“Of course I do!” Viola exclaimed with glee. “Such a fine young man!”