Amanda's Story

Traveling Parties and Pickles

On the morning of May 16, the three girls awoke early and hurried through their ablutions. Betsy was hailed after breakfast to come help pin their hair in becoming styles that would hold up against the stiff moor winds. They dressed in practical skirts for the traveling, but added their best bonnets and pelisses to show off their attractive features.

"Where is my puce bonnet?" Marian asked, rummaging through her boxes under her bed.

"I thought you removed the puce ribbon and replaced it with green," Rachel called from the next room.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you heard Mr. Hameldon say he like the way green matched your eyes?" Rachel winked at Amanda, who clapped her hand over her mouth to smother her laugh.

Marian arrived in the doorway, both hands on her hips. "I did no such thing," she said, her words tight and clipped.

"But you do remember how young Mr. Hameldon admired your green eyes?"

Her expression softened. "He did say something... about liking green." She returned to her room and a moment later appeared with the green bonnet. "Do you think this will do?"

"Admirably," Rachel said. She gave an arch look to Amanda and then turned back to tugging on her gloves.

Amanda passed Marian on her way to the stairs. "It is a lovely color on you," she whispered, then went to the kitchen.

The sisters had offered to help prepare a basket lunch, so Amanda began to slice bread and spread fruit preserves on each slice. She went to the larder and picked out a crock of pickles. She was just tucking the crock in the basket between two muslin towels when Marian popped her head in.

"Need any help?"

"No, nearly done." Amanda nodded at their cook. "Susan had baked tarts last night, and kindly had them wrapped and ready this morning."

Marian gave Susan and smile and nod of thanks, then went to the back door. A cupboard stood next to it, where they kept all their outdoor accessories for rides and excursions. Marian selected a couple of thick blankets to sit on while they ate their repast. She carried them to the front of the house, then placed them in a crate next to the door.

Within a few more minutes, all their belongings were gathered and packed, just before midmorning when Mr. Beauchamps rode down the lane. He was greeted by three grinning sisters, one of which was especially happy to see him.

Beauchamps bid good day to the ladies, then walked with Rachel toward the carriage shed. The vicar had offered a team and light cart for Amanda and Marian to ride in, and to carry the boxes and baskets. Rachel would ride along with the men on their own horses.

With Beauchamps' help, the cart was soon hitched and waiting at the front doors. Vern led Jenny up to the front and helped Rachel mount. Beauchamps helped Amanda and Marian climb into the cart, handing back the reins and checking the ropes that lashed down the boxes. All looked to be in good order.

"Well, I wonder where the other gents are," Beauchamps muttered, hands on his hips. He stood next to Rachel, patting her horse and talking for a few minutes, waiting for the rest of the party.

Ten minutes passed and no one arrived at the vicarage. "I'm going to ride as far as the church and look for your curate," Beauchamps said, swinging up into his saddle. "I'll be back shortly."

Marian glanced at Amanda. "Your curate," she said with a lilt in her voice.

Amanda gave her a teasing push. Only a minute later, the way Marian twisted her hands in her lap indicated she was growing upset, though she said nothing. Amanda watched the road, wishing the hedges were thinner so she could see the approach.