“But,” I continued, “it is not without cost. Some of our methodsmay seem harsh to those who have not known the challenges of governing abroad. The British government has long depended on the East India Company to represent its interests. We clung to India to keep it safe from the French threat—from the Jacobin alliances and later from Napoleon Bonaparte. But what will history say now—that we defeated Bonaparte, only to replace his tyranny with our own?”
I let the silence stretch.
“You trusted us then. Will you not trust us now—to secure peace between Hindus and Muslims, and every warlord in between? Why not rely on the Company men who live in Calcutta? I was born and raised in India. I love that country. Not one of you can negotiate with a zamindar at harvest time or speak the languages of rival religious groups. One cannot import progress into a land and expect it to thrive overnight. The terrain resists. Certain people resist. It takes strength and unyielding patience to achieve results, but rest assured, the East India Company holds to British values and British rule. I would see both countries thrive.”
That did it.
Mild clapping broke out. Some approving. Others skeptical, with arms folded across chests.
Mr. Wilberforce’s knuckles whitened around the edge of his papers. Raw disappointment flashed across his face.
I swallowed past the dryness in my mouth. “The men in my family believe in enterprise. In civilization through commerce. We may not have perfected the model, but I believe the Company can be a force for good, or at least for order. We must guide India forward.”
I paused. I could have said more—addressed the accusations regarding opium shipments, the way the Company’s profit margins choked out native autonomy like weeds overrunning a garden. But I hadn’t seen enough with my own eyes to refute or join with Mr. Wilberforce. And I needed more than hearsay if I were to betray my family’s legacy.
“I support cautious reform,” I concluded. “But I cannot condemn the Company wholesale. To do so would be foolish, leaving territories vulnerable to the French and our enemies. You need us to keep the peace.”
When I sat, Mr. Wilberforce heaved a deep breath, his gaze no longer meeting mine. His disappointment sat heavy between us like a third man in the pew.
Other members of Parliament offered short nods of approval and one stout fellow clapped my shoulder.
“Well said, sir. Your grandfather would be proud.”
I wasn’t sure that mattered anymore, my thoughts roiling as I considered William Carey and William Wilberforce’s concerns. These thoughts plagued me as I strode out of Parliament and into the gray light of a gathering storm.
By the time I returned to the colonel’s townhouse, dusk had settled like soot over London’s rooftops. Candles glowed from the parlor windows, but the place felt still—too still. No faint notes of pianoforte drifted from the drawing room. It was as though the house itself were holding its breath. Any requests as to Kitty’s health were continually rebuffed by the butler.
I paced, wondering what to say to her. Edward entered, his cravat loosened, face haggard.
I didn’t wait for pleasantries. “Is she here?”
“She’s not receiving visitors, Sinclair.”
“I know. I heard yelling this morning and went to see her. I fear I was soundly rebuffed. What happened? I heard the servants muttering in the hall before I left for Parliament.”
Edward hesitated, then motioned me to come closer. “The colonel ... He lost his temper shortly after you left. That blasted opera eventhas been broadcast across London.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She’s suffered a shock. A rather terrible one. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this. It’s not only the gossip. It’s what the Iron Colonel said to her. I believe she’s finally seen him clearly at long last—and it broke something in her.”
Simmering rage bubbled up within me. The colonel was not a temperate man.
Edward’s jaw tightened. “Frankly, I’d like to break something.”
I glanced up the staircase, my heart thudding in quiet alarm. “She shouldn’t be alone.”
“She’s not. Fredericka hasn’t left her side.”
That comforted me slightly, even though Freddy had refused to let me have entrance. But not enough. “Let me see her.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Sebastian—”
“I won’t disturb her if that’s what she wishes. I just want to know she’s all right.”
“She’s not all right.” His voice was flat. “And I don’t think you realize how she came to complete ruin this week. This is England, dear boy. The powers that be can destroy a reputation within an hour. And you kissing her while planning to head back to India? I promised you I would show no mercy. I cannot let another man break her heart.”
“I would marry her—if she would allow it. But she refused to see me. I can only assume...”
My heart thudded, uneven and uncertain, as I turned over his words and all they implied. How vulnerable she was—her life governed down to its smallest detail.
Edward’s narrowed gaze warmed. “You love her.”
