Amanda's Story

The Ball at Foxthorpe Hall

Amanda reminded herself to breathe. The musicians were just striking up the beginning chords of the first dance, and Lord Kendall Dabney gently took her elbow and swept her to the head of the room. As they took the position of head couple, she smiled up into his face. His brown eyes reflected the thousands of candles that glittered in the ballroom at Foxthorpe Hall, his family's estate. His thick brown hair was swept to the side, only one unruly curl falling just past his temple. He reached for her hand, bowed over it, and the dance began.

This wasn't the first dance she and Dabney had led. The Ellsworths of Burley Park, her neighbors and her father's benefactors, had celebrated the announcement of her betrothal to Lord Dabney at the end of August. She had felt so pleased with the attention—she, the vicar's youngest daughter, singled out among the top families of the county and toasted among the guests. It had been an amazing night, full of wondrous feelings. It was the night she'd been invited to accompany Dabney's family back to Lincolnshire, to see what her future home would be like. Dozens of guests had been there. Her family, her friends, Rose and Violet, Phoebe Ellsworth and Lord John—

Her brows creased and she paused a moment too long, causing Dabney to break time in the dance. He glanced worriedly at her, but she smiled and dipped her head in apology. They came to their corner, taking hands with the next partner in the line and stepping to the side while the other couple circled. The reprieve allowed her to blink away the painful memory that had surfaced.

She glanced in Rachel's direction, guilt invading her bubble of euphoria. It had been that night at Burley Park, that night that she'd felt so loved, that Rachel had begun to suspect John Ellsworth would not honor his proposal.

Could not honor it.

And now the whole county new why—he was already married, secretly, to a young lady who was also a clergyman's daughter. Their baby had been born that very night.

Amanda smiled when Dabney returned as her partner, and the next few steps she enacted gracefully, with a lighthearted skip. Her skin flushed warm as her muscles strained to hold the posture and grace the dance demanded, mixed with her nervousness at being watched.

This ball was much larger than the one at Burley Park. She imagined there must be two hundred guests. The Earl and Countess of Chester were well connected in Lincoln, their influence even extending to London and the Earl's peers. It seemed all invited had come to stare at the vicar's daughter that had the nerve to marry his heir.

Amanda straightened her shoulders, holding her chin up a notch higher. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She'd attended several semesters of a ladies' school, had been taught the best French from her Maman and Grandpére, and thanks to Dabney purchasing a team of horses from the vicarage farm, her dowry was provided for, and she was dressed in the flowing, new fashions of gauzy, Greek-inspired gowns.

Besides, Dabney's mother had taken to her. She'd called her beautiful and caring, and with that kind of endorsement from a Countess, she could not fail.

The dance drew to a close, the couples aligning across from their partner. The ladies curtseyed, the gentlemen bowed, and the perimeter of the floor grew crowded again.

Amanda and Dabney talked to several couples, among whom she recognized was a cousin (on which side, she couldn't remember), the local magistrate and his wife, as well as a baronet. As they passed on, they were stopped by a Navy captain, recently retired due to injuries, and a couple of young, red-coated officers of the militia. She despaired of ever remembering their names.

Finally she reached her sisters, then sent Dabney off to find a drink. "Rachel, Marian, are you enjoying the dance?" Amanda caught Marian's eye, knowing she'd been asked to stand up with an older, balding fellow.