Amanda's Story

House Party at Kipling Park

The Cressy family must have enjoyed their garden party, enough to want to prolong its success. Only two days passed until invitations were issued for a week-long house party, made up of the most ideal suitors in the county. Some had been at the garden party, others had not; Lady Cressy was widening the net, making sure no potential offer for her daughter's hand would be overlooked.

Lady Phoebe rode over the minute her invitation arrived. Amanda saw her approach and met her in the garden, where Phoebe danced about while reading the missive.

"You're invited as well!" Phoebe said. "I know Lady Cressy wants every girl in the area the same age as Ellen to be there. Indeed, since all men between 18 and 35 who have a modicum of breeding will be there, she's got to balance the numbers somehow."

A queasiness in her stomach accompanied this announcement of Phoebe's. "I'm rather surprised, on my part," Amanda hedged. "I was not the most engaging guest at the garden party. But what of Marian and Rachel?"

Phoebe glanced at the paper again. "She only says, 'We'd welcome your visit, and your sweet neighbor, Miss Amanda Pearce, as your friendship means so much to Ellen.'"

Amanda pursed her lips. "I wonder if she has me confused with Marian. It was Marian who spoke with Ellen in town when they invited us to the garden party."

Phoebe shrugged. "What does it matter? You're invited, and I know you'll come. The weather is getting warm, and it will fill the week ahead of us until Easter."

"I should be receiving a letter, too, don't you think?"

"Oh, most likely," Phoebe said, unconcerned. "Let's talk to your mama. We'll ride together in my carriage, of course, and I'll bring my abigail, so Betsy can stay for Rachel and Marian." She took Amanda's arm, linking it in her own, and pulled her into the house. "We'll each need at least two trunks. You still have those dresses you wore at Foxthorpe? Let's look at them again..."

Phoebe prattled continually for the remainder of her stay. Maman had an equal amount of excitement, forecasting that Amanda would be back to her old self in no time, now that she was among other ladies her age. She did check the post again, concerned that Rachel and Marian would be overlooked in not receiving an invitation.

Two days passed, and no letter arrived. "I'm not surprised," Marian said. "I am no one of consequence. Amanda has been among earls and countesses, linked with the best families. I have been nowhere." Amanda opened her mouth to disagree, but Marian held up her hand. "No, it's not an offense. You see, I am, nonetheless, still unattached and could possibly steal away an offer from Ellen. You are the safe choice. No one will be offering for you so soon after your mourning."

Amanda's mouth dropped open even further. She hadn't thought of herself in that way. A safe choice? No offers? Of course she hadn't envisioned collecting admirers while there, but neither did she put herself in the category of spinster or chaperone.

"Don't let them preclude you from the hunt, dearest," Marian said before setting the letters back on the table. "Show them that a Pearce girl is never down for long." She left Amanda staring at nothing, dreading the house party more than ever.

On the day Phoebe's carriage pulled up to collect Amanda, her nervousness was sickening her again. The situation was so like the time she'd left to visit Dabney's ancestral home. She even had some of the same dresses packed in her trunks. Phoebe wouldn't listen to her reservations, however; she told her that a mere house party fifteen miles from her own home was nothing of concern. Her father could ride over if she were truly ill, and they might as well get going.

An hour later they were standing in the entry of Kipling Hall. Amanda's cheeks were frozen in a polite smile, though everything from her heart to her stomach churned inside her. She felt tiny, surrounded by the dark wood beams that framed the entry and crossed the open Tudor ceiling. Her feet were frozen to the stone floor, where ancient patterns of wear showed how generations of guests had come and gone. Tapestries of former centuries hung between the beams, depicting hunting scenes and religious stories. Heavy wooden tables lined the sides of the hall, and although each one held a burning candelabra, the darkness of the entry still seemed to overwhelm the light. Amanda shuddered when the butler began to lead them deeper into the house. They turned a corner and climbed the wood paneled stairway, where the housekeeper led them to the room she had prepared for Phoebe and Amanda to share.

A massive canopy bed with barley twist posts sat at the end of the narrow room. The windows were hung with heavy velvet curtains, keeping out both cold and light. A fireplace was centered on the outer wall, framed in a stone hearth and mantel. The nearer end of the room had two wardrobes and a desk, vanity, and cheval mirror.

Phoebe didn't hesitate to settle in. She directed her ladies maid, Mary, to lay out a gown for dinner and put the rest in the first wardrobe while she changed out of her traveling cloak. Amanda took some time looking through her trunks before choosing her dinner dress, a redone lavender dress that now had a white overskirt. Then the rest of the gowns went into the second wardrobe, and she and Phoebe were directed to the drawing room to mingle with other guests.

Ellen was the first to greet Phoebe. "My dear Lady," she said, taking up both of Phoebe's hands. "This will be perfect, now that you are here for the next week." She turned to Amanda and gave her a smile. "You're most welcome, too. Lady Phoebe would not dream of coming without you as her companion."

Amanda's eyebrow raised a bit at that last remark, but she smiled and nodded to Ellen. She was beginning to wonder if she was, indeed, considered a chaperone among the other girls. Usually only married women and widows held such status—and she was only a seventeen-year-old would-be widow. Did that amount to anything?

Ellen led them to the first group of guests in the room. She introduced Sir Eli Fisher and his sister, Edith Fisher. Then they greeted Charles Huxtable and his cousin, Alberta Honeysett. Each time Lady Phoebe and Amanda dipped and smiled, but Amanda noticed how the guests' eyes trained back on Lady Phoebe and dismissed Amanda. As they turned to the next group, she scowled.

"Mr. Watson!" Phoebe went quickly to Devyn Watson's side, Ellen trailing a step behind. Devyn introduced his second cousin, Humphrey Barker, and their friend, Rodge Kemp. Ellen introduced the ladies they conversed with: Portia and Sophia Haywood, daughters of a close friend of Lady Cressy's. Amanda immediately took a liking to Sophia. She had the quieter bearing of a younger sister, like herself, though the greater portion of grace and beauty. When Phoebe launched into a captivating discussion with Mr. Watson, Amanda moved to a nearby chair and Sophia followed.

"Where are you from?" Sophia asked.

"Not far. My father is the vicar at Stokesley. We live next to the Earl of Levenford."

"Of course. I can see Lady Phoebe is attached to you, almost like a sister. I feel the same for Ellen sometimes."

"You've known her long?"

"Oh yes, ever so long. When the Cressys travel to London, our mother also goes and rents the townhome next door. When we were still in the school room, we'd climb over the garden wall and play together."

Amanda smiled at the image of girls in plaits escaping their governesses. "I've never been to London."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I made my bows to society last spring, and then last summer, I became engaged." She paused to watch Sophia's reaction. Her furrowed brows and glance around the room were expected. "My fiancé perished last fall. So this spring it feels as if I am debuting all over again."

Sophia pressed Amanda's hand, shaking her head in sympathy. "You're brave to come here. I have felt a sense of competition already among the ladies."

Amanda gave a wry grin. "I think Lady Cressy believes my recent attachment makes me less competition."

Sophia slitted her eyes. "Hmm." She looked at her older sister, Portia, who was nodding coquettishly at the knot of gentlemen near her. "My sister makes me feel the same way." She leaned closer to Amanda and dropped her voice. "I say we work together to disrupt their expectations."

Amanda let a slow smile spread over her face. For the first time since she'd arrived, her stomach stopped flip-flopping. "I think I like that plan," she whispered back.