Fair Weather Heaths’, Virginia, United States of America, end of February 1814

Each new day at Fair Weather Heaths’ brought new joy and with its novel and exciting prospects. Amelia and Anna had explored Jonathan’s lands on horseback until they had reached their end in all directions. Jake had been a constant companion on many of these trips. Occasionally, Jonathan had joined them on these wintery escapades.

Even Christmas had turned out to be far more enjoyable than Amelia had anticipated. After their personal breakthrough on the day Jonathan had first brought Amelia to the slaves’ quarters, their relationship had warmed considerably. He had even given her a present. Amelia often smiled at how thoughtful Jonathan could be – he had gifted her perfume and other women’s grooming articles because they had either been destroyed or had gone amiss when the HMS Capricorn had been attacked.

Amelia and Anna helped with the children with both of them finding great enjoyment in working at the school for the slaves. This was irregular because white masters did nothing to educate their property. Like most Virginian women no matter their station, slaves were illiterate. This probably would make Queen Elizabeth the First, the Virgin Queen after whom the state was named, roll in her grave.

Jonathan had travelled to Washington on a few occasions. Amelia knew that he eagerly sought a new mission. Each time, he had returned to Fair Weather Heaths’, it had been without success. Jake had told her that the American government had practically ceased the naval war close to the US because the British blockade off the coast was nearly all-encompassing. It wouldn’t be long until the entire US coastline was under their control.

The war did not look good for the Americans. Two attempts at taking Montreal toward the end of 1813 had been repulsed by far smaller British forces. Currently, a partial stalemate existed with no further larger land campaigns taking place as both parties relied more heavily on smaller skirmishes.

In Europe, the Marquess of Wellington had entered France with his army for the first time. It was said that he would soon engage the French on their soil. In the east, the other members of the Sixth Coalition poised to enter France from across the Rhine. Napoleon was most certainly finished. It was only a matter of a few more months before the nations of Prussia, Russia, and Austria, waiting on the eastern front, and the ones he had once bested with his sheer military genius, would make him cower as he had once made them.

What then? Amelia asked herself. Would Wellington come west and put the Americans in their place? Often during dinner, she saw Jonathan brooding. The fate of the fledgling nation he so loved was on the brink. If the British put the full force of their army behind the campaign, then it would surely end in a British victory. Already, with their hegemony of the sea, the British were able to land forces anywhere they pleased. What would happen if they attacked Washington, Baltimore or Philadelphia?

Amelia no longer gloated about this. In complete contrast to when she had first met Jonathan, she kept her patriotic fervor to herself. They no longer argued about the war. Instead, they spoke of it as mere foreign spectators from across the world might. Amelia could not bring herself to hate the lands that were supposed to act as her prison. In a way, she had come to love the cultivated beauty of Virginia that was almost untouched in certain parts.

She often thought of all of these things when she sat in the library belonging to Jonathan’s mansion. It was Amelia’s favorite room. Shelf after shelf of leather-bound books lined two of the walls all the way up to the ceiling. The side of the room facing the outside had large sash windows looking onto the roundabout in front of the mansion. The last remaining wall was where the large open fireplace stood and a table with decanters on the top and marquetry mantelpieces with marble surfaces.

As of late and slowly creeping up on her, Jonathan had become more and more of a resident of her mind. His way, his looks and his ideals hung about Amelia like a wispy afterthought. It remained there constantly and became more prevalent when she actively thought about him or engaged him in conversation. Did he feel or think the same? This was a relentless question that plagued her mind. But why?

“Am I falling for him?” she whispered.

Amelia dropped her copy of ‘Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded’ by Samuel Richardson onto the parquetry flooring. “It can’t be; I cannot love him – he’s American and a rogue.”

“I knew you’d come ‘round in the end, Amelia,” said Anna, entering the library room with a flutter of billowing skirts.

“What was that?”

“You were raving about not being able to love somebody…and I know who it is ye are talking about,” said Anna with a wink. She sat down in the chair closest to Amelia and looked at her with questioning eyes.

“Stop being silly, Anna.” Amelia laughed hysterically as if the notion of having feelings for Jonathan was absolutely preposterous.

“What is silly about love? Ye mustn’t fight it all of the time.”

“There is nothing to fight. I have become quite fond of him, but that is about it. He is smart and very honorable…” the words petered out when Amelia realized that she had a rather long list of praises for the American captain. She decided not to provide a vent for them lest she incur further comments from Anna who was already grinning in that irritating way she did.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Anna’s face adopted the mien it always had when a plan popped to mind. “We could stay here and never go back to England.”

“How dare you suggest something so outrageous? We can’t stay here. I, I forbid it. We are British subjects and not colonials.”

“Amelia, you know full well that this is a country in its own right.” Anna pressed her lips together as she weighed the burning news she wanted to share with Amelia in her mind. “Won’t you even consider it?”

“Never,” hissed Amelia, getting to her feet. “Now, enough talk on the matter. I have to prepare and change my attire. Jake’s taking us to Richmond – have you forgotten?” she headed for the door.

Anna sighed as she picked the book up off the floor and placed it on the table next to where Amelia had sat. “Maybe we might bump into Jonathan when we are there. He is in town for business. I am certain he has much news.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. “I think Jonathan Mitchell has better things to do than spend time with women while they are wandering the streets and doing all things womanly – now, come along, we best hurry.”

Anna followed her out. She had something to tell Amelia and it burned on her tongue like boiling water. She wouldn’t risk it. Her mistress and friend could be quite narrow-minded when she had made her mind up about something. Anna’s news would have to wait until Amelia had become slightly more malleable.