Page 72 of A Modest Independence

“Some of them did,” Tom said. “They weren’t all as irresponsible as Hardcastle and the fellow who brought Ahmad and Mira to London.”

“Do you know anything of him? The mysterious colonel they sometimes mention?”

“Only that he had some connection to Mira’s mother.”

Jenny nodded. “Mira said that her mother extracted a deathbed promise from him. That she made him swear to bring Mira back to England with him and see that she had a better life.”

“Thornhill spoke of soldiers who took Indian wives and sired children by them. The practice is frowned upon, but not at all uncommon.”

“Are you suggesting that the colonel was Mira’s father?”

“I think he might have been. Whether or not Mira’s mother was his wife, I’ve no idea.”

Jenny chewed her lip. “And Ahmad?”

Tom shrugged. “He is what he is. A concerned cousin. Too noble to let Mira be taken away from India on her own.”

“Did you know he’s something of a seamstress? Or a tailor, I suppose you might call him. He alters dresses and has taught Mira to do the same.”

Tom’s mouth curved upward. “Nothing would surprise me about the man.” He cast Jenny a sidelong glance. “Is he responsible for what you’re wearing?”

“This was Mira’s doing.” She pressed a hand to her waist, still struggling to adapt to the tight lacing. “She was only meant to repair a ripped seam.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s very fashionable. It’s also exceedingly uncomfortable.” She sunk her voice. “My corset is cinched nearly two inches tighter.”

Tom’s eyes dropped briefly to her midsection. “What in God’s name for?”

“The dress wouldn’t fit otherwise.”

“No wonder you ate so little at dinner. I thought you might be getting seasick again.”

“I’m surprised you noticed. You scarcely looked in my direction.”

“I’m trying not to.” He paused, staring briefly out at the water. “Ahmad says that I don’t look at you the way a gentleman looks at his sister.”

Jenny let his words sink in.

“The trouble is,” Tom said, “I don’t know how to stop looking at you however it is I look at you. It’s become as natural to me as breathing.”

“So you’ve decided not to look at me at all?”

“If it means preserving your good name, then yes. I intend to refrain as much as I’m able.” Tom thrust his hands into his pockets. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“I hate that we can’t be together.”

Her gaze flew to his face. Did he mean here, on the Bentinck? Or was he talking about their lives in England?

“It feels as though a year has passed since we were alone.”

“Not quite a year.” She brushed her shoulder against his arm in what she hoped presented as a sisterly nudge to the other passengers on deck. “It will be easier when we reach Calcutta.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but—”