Nope, nope, nope, nope. This book is a disaster on every level. I don't even know where to begin, so I'm going to take this in order of first appearance.
The book starts with Melinda Crawford's narrative. (Tip for the authors: If you can only write in one voice, don't have four different people do first-person narratives in one book.) In it, she admires the looks and physique of Simon Brandon, a fourteen-year-old boy, comparing him to her deceased husband, and arranges for him to go off to an active combat zone as part of the Army. (Tip for the authors: If you need the readers to know a character is hot, FIND A BETTER WAY. I am younger than Melinda is in this story, and when I look at a fourteen year old, I don't think, "Oooh, hot." I think, "Oh, child. It does get better." Bonus tip for the authors: It is not actually the action of a good person to put a fourteen year old in harm's way because it is what he wants. There are reasons children aren't allowed to make those decisions.)
Then the scene switches to India, where we are treated to narratives from Richard, Clarissa, and Bess. Mind the chapter headings; they're the only clue you'll get about who is speaking. Richard tells us all about young Simon Brandon is and how he and his wife are raising him and look on him as a sort of replacement for their dead son. (Tip for the authors: If you're going to try to pair up Simon and Bess at the end of this, be aware that writing romance between two people who were raised together and who treat each other as siblings is pseudocest. Like, if you want to write that, okay, but I expect you to own it.)
And then comes the mystery and the real horror. The plot, such as it is, involves a false charge laid against Brandon, and the entire thing is both "yay, colonialism!" and super racist. (Tip for the authors: If you have a white British woman threaten the destruction of a culture because she's pissed off, that isn't going to make me clap my hands for her. It's going to make me hate her. And I do. Bonus tip: Probably better to avoid that "these emotional Indians, gosh, they are so wrong and mean, but fortunately the whites are there to be forces of Justice and Goodness!" thing. Like. Very much better not, folks.)
I regret reading this, and will now nope out of the rest of this series.