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did not even know her. He had not exchanged three words with her. But—she stopped pacing—he knew her father.
    She uncrumpled the paper and read it through again. This time she understood the meaning behind the letter. Yes, it was like offering to buy a horse—or a seat in Parliament. So this was what he was offering: to help restore her father’s reputation, in return for a wife.
    She stood, deep in thought, the breeze through the open window caressing her hair and the sunlight setting it glowing like bronze. The whispers about her father that she had heard in India—cowardice, dishonor—came back to her, and she felt sick at heart. All her life she had looked up to her father and been proud of him. She had thought him the perfect gentleman: straight and true; and when he’d had to resign as lieutenant governor, it was as if something she had thought eternal and entirely English, like the Houses of Parliament or the Tower of London, had come crashing down. She knew the whispers were lies, but they still cut deep. She would do anything to set her father right again in the eyes of the world.
    But Douglas Varley! She did not know whether to laugh or cry. He was at least forty. Could she love such a man? Could she bring herself to try? It was impossible to imagine kissing him—she realized she was thinking about Ravi again, and tears suddenly came into her eyes.
    She turned from the window, wiping the tears away. That decided it. The Indian boy clearly had some terrible influence over her heart, and that frightened her. It was wrong of her to have kissed him, but now she had a chance to put things right, to do what was expected of her, to fulfill her duty toward her father and her family. All she had to do was accept Douglas Varley’s proposal and forget about her one shameful lapse.
    Varley will never allow you to go to Oxford, whispered a voice inside her. But after her shocking behavior, did she truly deserve to go? And…could she trust herself there, near Ravi? Color flushed into her face as she thought of seeing him again. “I won’t think about it a moment longer!” she exclaimed aloud. She jumped to her feet and ran to the door. She needed company, she needed someone bright and happy to chatter to, to drive this chaos of thoughts and feelings out of her mind. She needed Georgiana.
    Ada found Georgiana in the music room, halfway through playing a waltz on the piano. Her cheeks were pink, and Ada smiled to see how happy she looked.
    “Oh, Ada!” Georgiana saw her and brought the waltz to a crashing halt that rattled the busts of the great composers in their alcoves. She jumped up from the piano stool. “How wonderful it is to play on something in tune, at last. Have you explored the house?”
    “I thought you might come with me,” Ada replied. “I need some fresh air and I want to see how the gardens look.” And she did not want to sit alone and fret over the proposal. She was in two minds about whether to tell Georgiana about it. Though she longed to confide in her sister, there was too much that she could not tell her. Maybe it was better to say nothing at all. It hurt to think that she now had a secret from Georgiana. Never before had she had something to hide.
    They went down the main stairs. Ada was aware of all her ancestors’ faces looking down at her from the family portraits. How could she put her own dreams before the honor of the Earls of Westlake? And yet…how could she spend a lifetime with Varley, and all the while be remembering stars, and the sea wind, and a boy who moved like a sphinx?
    Desperate to escape her rebellious thoughts, she ran down the last few steps and into the drawing room. She thrust open the French windows and took a grateful breath of the fresh country air. A charming, shady terrace stretched out before her, with ferns in pots and steps that led down to the green lawn.
    “I can’t believe we’re finally home!” Georgiana gave a little skip as they walked along the