She’d expected it, yet…looking down, she swallowed, then lifted her head, drew breath. Fixed the guard with an even more imperious gaze. “I wish to speak with Colonel Delborough. Where may I find him?”

The answer had been the officers’ bar, the enclosed front verandah of the officers’ mess. Emily wasn’t sure it was acceptable for her-a female-to go inside, but that wasn’t going to stop her.

Idi, the Indian maid she’d borrowed from her uncle’s household, trailing behind her, she mounted the shallow steps. Moving into the dim shadows of the verandah, she halted to let her eyes adjust.

Once they had, she swept the verandah left to right, registering the familiar click of billiard balls coming from an alcove off one end, several officers in groups of twos and threes gathered about round tables, and one larger group haunting the far right corner.

Of course they’d all noticed her the instant she’d walked in.

A serving boy quickly came forward. “Miss?”

Transferring her gaze from the group to the boy’s face, she stated, “I’m looking for Colonel Delborough. I was informed he was here.”

The boy bobbed. “Yes, miss.” He swung and pointed to the group in the corner. “He is there with his men.”

Had MacFarlane been one of Delborough’s men? Emily thanked the boy and headed for the corner table.

There were four very large officers seated at the table. All four slowly rose as she approached. Remembering Idi dutifully dogging her heels, Emily paused and waved the maid to a chair by the verandah’s side. “Wait there.”

Holding the edge of her sari half over her face, Idi nodded and sat.

Drawing breath, head rising, Emily walked on.

As she neared, she scanned, not the men’s faces-even without looking she knew their expressions were bleak; they’d learned of MacFarlane’s death, almost certainly knew the manner of it, something she was sure she didn’t need to know-but instead she searched each pair of broad shoulders for a colonel’s epaulettes.