London, England, May 1814

“Amelia, the season is already in full swing. I am so happy you made it back home in time not to miss all of it. The dresses are so magnificent – the colors, oh, the colors. The dance floor; it’s like gazing at a rainbow, so resplendent is the hue.” For a moment, mother halted her incessant chirruping to catch her breath with deep gasps. “Yes…it is said that this year’s ball season is to be one of the very best,” she continued excitedly.

Amelia’s mother was incessant in her pursuit to regale her daughter with the latest gossip she missed while she was held prisoner (her words) in the United States. Not once had she spent a moment to ask after her daughter’s wellbeing since her return. It was as if now that her daughter was finally back that her position in society was cemented with the betrothal to Lord Templeton French. “Did you know of the most recent juicy gem of blather here in London?”

“No, Mother,” said Amelia, for the first time in her life feeling completely alien in her habitually homely surroundings at her parents’ London home.

Her mother tittered like a girl. “It’s so garishly boorish,” she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if I have the heart to tell you. You have been away for so long that you might even faint at such news.”

“Oh, Mother, it can’t be that bad. In the Americas, brave men are dying. How can a bit of gossip be as bad as all that?” said Amelia.

Mother rolled her eyes. “Don’t mention that ghastly war. I will hear nothing of it in this household. The serious expression on her face quickly evaporated and was replaced with one of an excited nature. “Well, what I have to tell you is utterly revolting. One of the gentlemen who was recently elevated to the peerage alongside your father at Carlton House last year had the audacity to blatantly introduce himself to the Earl of Wickham the other week while promenading in Hyde Park. Such behavior just won’t do. Gentlemen don’t do such things unless someone else formally introduces them – it is the height of vulgarity and the talk of the town. The poor earl most probably won’t dare to go for a walk again. It is said he nearly passed out.”

Amelia was lost for words. It was just so like her mother to busy herself with such trivial peccadillos. “The thought of approaching a higher peer of the realm and demanding acquaintance of a person of Wickham’s station is a ghastly notion. It is so preposterously colonial.” Lady Carlyle, 1st Baronet of Windom chittered on like a parakeet at full warble. Her daughter sighed at the overindulgence of Regency Britain – it tired her just listening to it.

Strangely enough, before she met Jonathan her home country’s mannerisms among the upper class came as second nature to her. Today, it was tedium. Navigating Regency society was like treading through a minefield. There were just so many things a lady and gentleman must be aware of. Any minor transgression like the one mother mentioned and a person could be ostracized, and in some cases for good.

Behind her, Anna flitted hither and thither gathering discarded clothing considered inadequate for the betrothed of a future duke. She was just Anna the lady’s maid again. At least that was the impression both she and Amelia gave the world.

No one could know what had happened while they were away. No one could know that Amelia was betrothed to Jonathan as well as to Lord Airey Templeton French. In essence, she lived two separate lives and was promised to two different men. Should this information ever come to light, Amelia’s reputation would be ruined forever. She would be ostracized by society and most probably die a spinster.

“I am certain the earl will ‘cut’ the man for his presumption,” continued Amelia’s mother on the aforementioned subject. She referred to the custom of when one man fails to acknowledge another man’s prescribed greeting when on the street after a formal introduction. It was the ultimate snub and reserved for those that did not know how to engage in polite society.

“Mother, can we do this some other time. I am tired. I have been home barely a week. The sea voyage from Canada was long and arduous, and I look forward to some days in the country,” said Amelia. “The air will do me good.”

“The country, the country?” Mother snickered like an exaltation of skylarks at full warble. “This is not the time for the country. No one other than Lord Duncan or farmers would be seen dead in the country at this time of the year.” Mother shook her head in disgust. “And you know what happened to that Duncan fellow?”

“Amelia sighed. She knew that she had to ask the question her mother expected of her. This was her silly way of preparing her daughter for polite conversation with people of their class. “What happened to Lord Duncan?” She placed special emphasis on mentioning his name. Saying ‘him’ would only have invited the retort, “Who’s him…the cat’s dinner?”

Mother seemed pleased that her daughter was playing along. “Lord Duncan is the head of one of Scotland’s oldest peerages.” She huffed in midsentence. “Such a shame really that he is such a bore.”

“Why is he a bore, Mother?” asked Amelia, not really caring in the least who Lord Duncan was and consequently how he behaved.

“Well, he prefers hunting on his estates in the Highlands to attending to his obligations here in London.” Lady Carlyle, 1st Baronet of Windom, pleated her brow. “Imagine hunting out of season and preferring that to finding a suitable woman. The notion is quite preposterous.” She huffed again. “And to think that your father almost propositioned him your hand in marriage” she tittered again. “Thank goodness for Lord Airey, eh? He came through in the nick of time.”

Yes, thank goodness, thought Amelia, despising the prospect. I would rather have the hunting enthusiast any day. He sounds like much more fun than the inflated future Duke of Brandon.

Thinking of Scotland and the Highlands reminded her of Jonathan. He was originally from there, she remembered. A twinge of pain pierced her chest as if a knife stabbed her body. Is this what heartbreak feels like? We never even had time to truly be together. A frown creased her brow as these tumultuous thoughts raced through her mind. In essence, Jonathan is a laird of Scotland and equal to a lord in England. Maybe if I told my parents, this they might consider a betrothal to the man I love. He has the proper station and judging by the size of his Virginia estate, a very rich man.

It would never be possible, and she knew it. Jonathan’s ancestors were considered traitors to the crown – he had said as much about his grandfather and the way he had left his homeland. They had fled after the Battle of Culloden. But that was long forgotten now, surely? Presently, the Scottish formed an integral part of the British army and bureaucracy. Thinking about it all made Amelia dizzy. She missed the man she loved more and more as the days passed her by. She did not know how she was going to survive without him. Already, the sea voyage had been sheer agony.

Amelia steeled another glance at her mother. She hadn’t stopped talking for a single moment. Currently, she was on the subject of the upcoming events in the capital city. She insisted Amelia attend them all and most importantly one particular one.

“Anyhow, as I was saying, not to make an appearance at the Duchess of Waverly’s ball this weekend would result in social death. And we wouldn’t want that, now would we, dear? Especially now since you are so well engaged to the son of one of the foremost peers of the realm.”

Amelia let her mother warble on about this and that. None of the words registered or made it past her impenetrable wall of melancholia that consisted of a vapor of happy memories with the man she loved hanging about her head. Leaving him behind was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. It was like dying she imagined. And poor old Anna confirmed her pain. Her habitually chirrupy friend had turned glum. The way her lady’s maid felt was to be seen in everything she did.

Oh, how I wish we had made it back to Fair Weather Heaths’ in time. Jonathan had left it too late. Amelia pressed her lips together. Well, I didn’t make it easy for the poor man. I literally spurned him. It was a surprise he even came at all. Oh God, but he did…he loves me…will I ever see him again?

She wondered what her Jonathan might be doing. Naturally, she had received news on the happenings of the war in the Americas. It was said that the British Navy had sealed off the entire American coast. It was even rumored that an attack was planned near to where Jonathan’s estate was located. Amelia worried for him a great deal.

The memory of their kiss still hung in her mind like a persistent afterthought. It never left. It was everywhere she went. Amelia prayed every night for the day she would be back in her love’s arms again. It was all that mattered to her. Even the prospect of leaving England forever did not trouble her as much anymore.

It would have to happen quickly for Amelia’s destiny was in the making. There was the Duchess of Waverly’s ball this weekend, and before that, Airey was scheduled to drop by to take her for a stroll in Hyde Park. Amelia’s mother had heralded the event as even more important than the ball because it was their coming out as an engaged couple in society.

“Won’t it be lovely to have the dashing Lord Templeton French escort you to the ball this Saturday?” asked Mother as if reading her mind. “And your walk tomorrow,” she clapped her hands, “how delightful. Oh, the pleasures of being young. Young love is so beautiful.”

Amelia did not respond. It did not matter; her mother gushed enough excitement for the both of them. “I hear that Lord Templeton French will bequeath you with an engagement ring. It is said that it has been in his family for generations.” Mother tittered again. “I wonder if it is a vulgarly large diamond…Oh, I am certain it is. What else would the future Duke of Brandon give to his bride to be?”

Listening to the talk about engagement rings, Amelia felt a shiver slide down her back. It made her think of the beautiful ring Jonathan had given her before they were so rudely separated. It pained her all the more because she could not wear it. If her mother ever saw it, the most precious thing Amelia had would be discarded immediately. Her betrothal to the son of a duke was far too important to her family. It promised advancement beyond her parents’ wildest dreams.

She had given the ring to Anna for safekeeping. It was a risk because if something of such value was ever found on her person, it would invite questions, none of which Amelia and Anna would be capable of answering.

“What say you, Daughter, about that little promenade with Lord Templeton French on the morrow?”

Amelia rolled her eyes. What did she have to say? Nothing! She dreaded the prospect. As etiquette dictated, Lord Templeton French would be allowed to escort her without a chaperone. They were engaged, after all, meaning that they were even permitted to hold hands in public. Oh, how Amelia wished it were Jonathan coming around to see her.

Mother pleated her brow in thought. The expression on her face lit up. “Don’t forget to mention the wedding date as well. We must know exactly when it is to take place. The talks came to a halt due to your absence.” As usual, mother made it sound like it was Amelia’s fault she was abducted.

Amelia swallowed deeply. No matter how obvious the suggestion was; the notion of going through with the actual wedding seemed so far away and unreal. It was something that had always loomed over her head but never seemed to strike. Hearing her mother actually mention it came as a kick to the gut.

“I am certain he will be the perfect gentleman. Your father told me the other day that he had a very profitable voyage in Canada. He will have certainly discussed the matter with his father. After all, marrying is one of the most important decisions one makes in life…” continued Mother as if she had never asked a question. It was her way. She remained unrelenting with her incoherent shower of thoughts that had no particular pattern. They were just all jumbled together and spewed from her mouth like hail in a storm.

“Yes, I am sure,” said Amelia, lacking anything else to say. She could not get the thought of standing next to Airey in front of the altar out of her mind. She dreaded the prospect. All manner of forms of escape dominated her mind. For a heartbeat, she even contemplated killing herself.

“Anyway, I suggest you wear the pretty walking dress in green. It matches your eye color, and the dainty little garment is sure to get Lord Templeton French’s heart racing. We mustn’t allow him to regret his decision to marry you, eh, my dear?” Mother started to pace up and down in Amelia’s room. She behaved as if it was she that was to be married.

“Yes, Mother…the green dress sounds lovely.”

“You could sound a little more enthused,” Lady Carlyle, 1st Baronet of Windom, said spinning on her heels and creasing her brow. “Poor dear, you really must be tired. I dread to think what you have been through being held captive by those American savages for so long. Fortunately, they were stupid enough to bring you so close to British territory, or you would never have been found.”

Her mother’s words were like a dagger to the heart. Amelia knew it was her fault, but hearing it spoken out so unashamedly reminded her of the fact. If only had she not been so stubborn, then maybe they might have never left Fair Weather Heaths’ and she and Anna would still be with the men they loved.

“Best rest today so that you are at your best tomorrow. It wouldn’t do to disappoint your betrothed, now would it?” Mother turned to Anna. “Inform the kitchen that my daughter will be taking her food in her chambers today.” She placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I am so excited for you, Amelia. You are the luckiest young lady in Britain.”

Amelia pressed her lips together. If only I was the luckiest young lady in America, I would be so much happier.