Should she follow him, or let him go?

Closing her eyes, she revisited those moments in the officers’ bar, the only moments on which she could judge him. Surprisingly vividly, she recalled the sensation of his fingers closing around hers, felt again that odd leap of her pulse, the frisson that had set her nerves jangling.

Felt, remembered, relived.

On a sigh, she opened her eyes. One point was inescapable.

Of all the men she’d ever met, only Gareth Hamilton had affected her in the slightest.

Only he had set her heart racing.

September 16, 1822

The Governor’s Residence, Bombay

“Good evening, Uncle.” Emily swept into the dining room and took her seat on her uncle’s right. They were the only two at dinner. Her aunt was still in Poona-which was a very good thing. Flicking out her napkin, she smiled at the butler, waited for him to serve her and step back before she said, “I have an announcement of sorts to make.”

“Oh?” Her uncle Ralph rolled a wary eye her way.

She smiled. She and Ralph had always got on well. “Don’t worry-it’s only a minor change in my plans. As you know, I was scheduled to depart on the company ship two days hence, but after speaking with others I’ve decided that, as I came by that route, I should instead go home by the direct and more scenic way.” She waved her fork. “See Egypt and the pyramids-and as it is the diplomatic route, there’s unlikely to be any serious danger, and plenty of embassies and consulates to call on for help if luck says otherwise.”

Ralph chewed, frowned. “Your father won’t like the idea, but then he won’t know-not until you’re standing in front of him again.”

Emily grinned. “I knew I could trust you to see the salient point. There’s really no reason I shouldn’t go home that way.”