Amanda's Story

Garden Games

Amanda found that the energy she had woken with drained quickly when she was competing with six other young women for attention from the gentlemen. Sophia Haywood had been true to her word, stealing certain moments of attention away from her sister, Portia, or Ellen, or even Lady Phoebe. When she could, she pulled Amanda into the circle of attention, too.

The first moment was when Sophia cried out in battledore, claiming she'd stumbled and torn the hem of her dress. She protested that none of the men should look, in case her skirts were torn to the point that her chemise showed. Of course, just this exclamation made every man's eyes turn her direction.

"I told you not to look!" she cried in mock dismay. "Amanda, come, stand behind me and tell me if my dress is ruined."

Amanda quickly moved behind her, gathering the hem up and examining it. "You're in luck, only a tiny tear is here, and it's easily mended."

Sophia's dramatic sigh of relief earned a chuckle from the nearest fellows. Her spirit for the game revived, and with it, the attention she garnered from the young men.

Amanda swung her racket poorly the next time the shuttlecock came her direction. The birdie dropped to the lawn, and she bowed out of the game. Retreating to a nearby bench, she watched as the other participants closed in the circle and slowly eliminated players. Edith Fisher was the next one out, and she joined her on the bench while she waited for her brother. The last three standing were Sophia, Sir Fisher, and Sir Studwick. The gentlemen were clearly gentle in their lobs towards Sophia and competitive only with each other.

Finally Sophia grew tired of the lopsided game and dropped her racket. "Let's play something else." The two men scowled a bit at each other but left the game without deciding on a victor.

Archery targets had already been set up farther down the lawn. Lady Phoebe and Ellen were standing in front of the first one with Mr. Watson, Mr. Huxtable, and Lord Albans. Mr. Barker and Mr. Kemp aimed at the second target with Miss Honeysett and Miss Portia Haywood. When Amanda, Sophia, and Edith approached, they had to stand to the side until the groups had finished counting up their points.

When Sophia took up the bow abandoned by her sister, she made a point of loudly congratulating her sister's good aim and bemoaning the fact that she was not nearly as competent an archer. This prompted an offer of help from Mr. Barker, though his pointers were countermanded by Lord Albans. Soon Sophia found several of the men sharing a lively discussion on the best form, while she stood blinking in the center of their circle. She finally turned a captivating smile on Lord Albans, singling him out for his better advice, and her next shot was miraculously well-aimed.

This caused a stir among the men, who each must try their own style, then have Sophia try it.

"If the advice is sound, even a novice will improve with it," Sophia countered. "Amanda, come try this grip Lord Albans recommends."

Amanda nearly rolled her eyes at the obvious pandering to the Lord's vanity, but she complied. Her utter lack of expertise made it so he had to take her arm in his hands—"my apologies, Miss"—and straighten her wrist. Even with his help, her shot was weak and fell far short of the target.

"I'm sure Miss Sophia has better strength, and thus a better shot." Amanda handed the bow back to her, and the men returned their attentions to Sophia.

Amanda found herself moving toward Phoebe and Mr. Watson, who stood a few feet apart, their bows idle as they discussed something fervently.

"Nearly one out of three men from the bigger Yorkshire towns have enlisted," Mr. Watson was saying. "As the war takes its toll, more and more men will be needed. Press gangs in Scotland can only provide so much force—and that not well trained, either. Bright men, educated men, are needed to win a war again Napoleon. He's a strategist."

Phoebe nodded as Amanda came within arm's reach. "I know many families sending their brave sons to the war. Amanda's brother, Bernard, serves in the Royal Navy."

Amanda nodded. "He was at Trafalgar, but fortunately not seriously injured. We've only had one letter since, but he assures us things are more peaceful upon the waters after that costly battle."

"Is he an officer?" Mr. Watson asked.

Amanda smiled. "Since he is only thirteen, no. He is a young gentleman, and in another year or two, hopes to be midshipman."

Mr. Watson asked several more questions, about details of life aboard ship (which Bernard had described very vaguely), the places he'd visited, and the awful day they learned he'd been involved at Trafalgar.

Amanda answered as best she could, swallowing a time or two as her emotions surfaced—she worried for her young brother, sailing on a contested sea—but ended up barely whetting Mr. Watson's appetite for news of the war. Soon Sir Studwick caught wind of their conversation and he joined them, sharing news from his father who served as a colonel. When it became clear that the men would be talking at length, Amanda and Phoebe moved away into a shaded area, remarking how the sun was extremely warm for the first day of April.

Phoebe looked carefully around, making sure no one was within earshot. "I have relished Mr. Watson's attention today. Do you think he prefers me?"

Amanda looked at her blankly a moment. "Do you not know?"

Phoebe wrinkled her forehead. "I suspect, but no. What do you think?"

Amanda squeezed her arm encouragingly. "Dear Phoebe, he clearly prefers you. He watches for the moment you arrive in the room, and lingers near you, just to catch your eye for a moment. His attentiveness shows his heart is yours for the catching."

Phoebe bit her lip, watching him with a warm look. "I prefer him also," she whispered. "How I pray Papa approves."

Amanda gave her a light hug. "He's set to inherit quite a bit. What's there to object to?"

This elicited a giggle from Phoebe, though she clapped her gloved hand over her mouth. She struggled to pull a demure look over her features, but Amanda clearly read how besotted she felt.

"I can't tell you how to proceed. I only know that when I was with Dabney, I lost a bit of my reserve every day. It was as if he polished off the exterior society expected and revealed my true heart within. Once I knew I was safe with that revealed, I trusted our attachment would soon be made official."

"Oh, how I hope that may be for me," Phoebe said.

A servant came to the group, announcing tea was set on the lawn for that afternoon. They moved away to the white linen-draped tables, Mr. Watson breaking away from his conversation to take Lady Phoebe on one arm and Amanda on the other. Phoebe sent a warm glance to Amanda, as if in appreciation for validating her suspicions. Amanda looked ahead and smiled, glad that the monster of jealousy had not inserted itself during their conversation. She expected it to reappear later, but for now, enjoyed a surrogate elation through her friend.