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heart slowed to normal, he faced one last ominous truth: he couldn't go on this way. He had told David that he wouldn't do anything foolish and he meant it, for he had caused his family enough grief.
    But the world was a dangerous place for a man who found life excruciating. In spite of his best intentions, he was doomed unless he found something—or someone—to take his mind off his own despair.

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Chapter 4

     
    The British administration building was the largest edifice in Baipur, with a Union Jack hanging limply from a pole in front and a crowd of the inevitable petitioners and gawkers lolling about the veranda. All watched with interest as Ian dismounted. One stepped forward to take his horse while another went inside to announce that an unknown Englishman had arrived.
    By the time Ian reached the top of the steps, a sturdily built Briton of middle years had come out to greet him. "Good afternoon. I'm George McKittrick, senior judge here." He offered a hand and a smile. "What brings you to Baipur?"
    Ian had discarded his uniform along with his commission and had not yet gotten used to identifying himself as Lord Falkirk, so he said tersely, "My name's Ian Cameron, and I'm looking for Kenneth Stephenson. Is he here now?"
    McKittrick led the way inside. "Sorry, but he's touring the eastern part of the district. Won't be back for weeks."
    So the hunt wasn't over yet. "My business is actually with his stepdaughter, Larissa, or perhaps she's called Lara," Ian said. "Do you know if she's with him?"
    McKittrick's brows drew together. "Lara? He has a daughter, Laura. I suppose she could be his stepdaughter, though neither of them ever said as much. And yes, she went with him."
    Thinking that the girl must have anglicized her name, Ian said, "Can you give me a map of the district, and Stephenson's schedule of stops?"
    "Of course." McKittrick gave an order to a native clerk, then turned back to Ian. "It's getting late in the day. Will you do my wife and me the honor of spending the night with us?"
    India was sometimes called the land of the open door because of the unfailing hospitality that a Briton met wherever he went. However, though Ian had regained enough control to present a fairly normal face to the world, doing so was difficult, and he didn't feel up to being civil to a tableful of strangers. "Sorry—I won't be stopping. I need to find the Stephensons as soon as possible, and there are a couple of hours of daylight left."
    The judge's face fell. "A pity. My wife will be disappointed—it isn't often we see a new face in Baipur."
    Ian felt a twinge of guilt. A small station like this would have only four or five British officials and a few other family members, so if Ian stayed, his visit would be the social high point of the month. However, guilt was not enough to change his mind. He said vaguely, "If I come back this way, I'll gladly take you up on your offer, but today I really must continue on."
    McKittrick asked no more questions, and within fifteen minutes Ian was on his way again. That night he camped in the countryside, as he had every night since leaving Cambay. If Stephenson was holding to his schedule, Ian should find him within a day or so. Then Ian could present the Bible to Lara, give the necessary explanations, and be off the next morning.
    He knew that there was no real need for haste, but once he had decided to return to Scotland, he had become feverishly impatient to be on his way. With insight that he would not have had before his imprisonment, he recognized that he had replaced his obsession with Georgina with a fixation about going home. Not the healthiest state of mind, he thought with black humor, but at least obsession helped him maintain his grasp on sanity.
     
    When they reached the fork in the dusty road, Laura reined in her horse. "I'll turn here, Father. If I go into the village with you, I'll get caught up in the official welcome, and it will be hours before I can get away."
    Kenneth