Amala spoke with Everett about the purpose of this little excursion, and she was glad to be able to do so openly. He expressed concern over her reasoning and didn’t hesitate to say that he personally didn’t believe this was a wise course of action, but, as always, he respected Amala’s decision, and they were on their way in plenty of time to arrive at the church before two. Heavily overcast skies matched her mood perfectly.

During the drive, Amala had to use all her willpower to not start crying; if she started now she wouldn’t be able to stop. She could cry later. Henry’s declarations yesterday in the library had haunted her all through a restless night, and they were haunting her still. Looking back to the time she’d agreed to this arrangement with Henry, she honestly didn’t know if she’d been hopeful that it might actually work out between them or if she’d simply wanted the time with him. Had she unwittingly used him in order to simply have the experience of romance in her life? If that were the case, she wondered if she could ever live with the guilt and regret threatening to smother her. She felt wicked and cruel and horrible. And in her heart she knew how the vicar was going to respond, and therefore she knew the outcome of this meeting—and her relationship with Henry. Her heart was breaking, crumbling into pieces. But a part of her felt like she deserved it, although Henry did not deserve to feel this way. But she knew that he did, and she knew that it was her fault. She couldn’t imagine ever being able to look at herself in the mirror again without being overcome with shame and regret.

When she knew they were getting close to the church, a little voice in the back of her mind told her there was one way to remedy all of this. Just marry him, she thought, as if to try it out. They didn’t need the approval of this particular vicar to choose marriage. They could elope. They could do it with or without the knowledge of her parents. Either way, she knew her family would support her in the decision. They loved Henry. They would help create a buffer around them through whatever consequences they might suffer. Just marry him, she thought again. But loud, booming voices of fear quickly drowned out the idea. The absurdity of an English gentleman marrying an Indian woman and expecting to live any kind of a normal life washed over her. The cruelty their children would inevitably endure put a final exclamation point to the sentence she was firmly passing upon herself. It was impossible!