“Girls!”
Amelia suppressed a groan as her mother’s voice rattled through the house.
“Girls! Amelia, Catherine, where are you? Girls!”
Catherine looked up from her book and placed down the pencil. “Do you suppose we have to answer?”
“She will not give up until we do. It must be important.”
“Julia!” their mother screeched. “Emma! Where are you all?”
Julia glanced longingly out of the window. “I had so hoped to go out and sketch today. The wildflowers are blooming wonderfully at the moment.”
“Maybe she will not keep us long,” suggested Emma.
All four of them moved from their various spots in the rear drawing room and made their way through to the entrance hall. Mama had not yet removed her pelisse nor her hat. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement.
“Where were you all?” she demanded.
“We came as soon as we heard you,” Amelia said. “What’s the hurry?”
Mama thrust a letter her way and Amelia scanned the writing. “An invitation? That is why we were to hurry?”
“An invitation to a ball,” her mother said smugly. “In only two days’ time. We must hurry to town and ensure you have new ribbons and flowers for your hair.”
“Ooh, shopping,” Catherine declared.
Emma clapped her hands together at the idea of something new.
Julia rolled her eyes. “I don’t need any new ribbons and you know I detest wearing flowers.”
Mama waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, we all know, Julia. You remind us every time we wear them.”
“I’d rather see them in a field—”
“Than on a head,” everyone finished for her.
Julia huffed and folded her arms.
“Where is the ball, Amelia?” Emma asked. “Perhaps I shall be able to play one of my songs.”
Amelia resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. If Emma sang one of her songs, they would never hear the end of it, and the Chadwick girls would have another black mark to their name.
“It’s at Uxbridge. Nicholas is hosting it,” Amelia explained, trying to ignore the little skip it created in her chest.
“But that is not all,” their mother hissed. “I have heard from a reliable source that he intends to announce an engagement at the ball.”
Catherine swung a glance Amelia’s way. Amelia gave her head a little shake.
“Engagement?” Catherine demanded. “He said nothing of any such occurrence when we visited with him only a few days ago. Are you sure, Mama?”
“Quite sure. I heard it from Mrs. Lamb who had been speaking with dear old Mr. Whitby. He heard it from Miss Davis who had been speaking with one of the maids at Uxbridge. It cannot be denied.”
“It’s hardly certain then, is it?” Catherine whispered to Amelia. “Mr. Whitby is half-blind and almost fully deaf. How could he pass on gossip?”
“Well,” their mother continued, finally unbuttoning the pelisse and motioning for Mrs. Bramley to remove it, “it seems this mysterious fiancée has been writing to the viscount. The maid caught sight of one of the letters.”
Catherine shot another look Amelia’s way and Amelia shook her head once more. She tried to absorb the information, really she did, but it was hard to understand. Indeed, it had only been recently that they had renewed their friendship but surely he would have mentioned a fiancée? Especially after he, well, kissed her.
Twice.
A heavy pang of dread settled in her stomach. She had been on that road before...that dark and dangerous one that would mean years of heartache and longing. She supposed at least she found this out sooner rather than later. Before she fell head over toes in love with him again.
Because she was not in love with him again. No. Not one bit. Just because she liked his kisses and the way his eyes creased in the corners when he saw her did not mean she loved him.
“It’s about time he married,” mused Mama. “Of course, we always hoped Lavinia would marry him but I cannot begrudge my daughter a handsome Scotsman. Perhaps she shall be willing to return home for Nicholas’ wedding.”
Just the thought of Nicholas marrying and her having to attend the wedding, all pretend smiles and false wishes made Amelia’s stomach hurt.
“I cannot deny I had hoped he might choose one of you instead but what is one to do when one has bookish, redheaded daughters. One cannot expect too much.”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Is that all then, Mama? Did you need us for anything else?”
“I was not done yet, Julia,” her mother scolded. “You need not be rude.”
Their mother moved through into the second parlor room and they all followed like ducklings following the mother duck. They knew well enough that it was easier to indulge their mother in her need to share gossip than to make excuses to escape.
She sat and waved a hand in front of her face. “All this news has me quite weary. Ring for some tea, Catherine.”
Catherine did as she was bid while their mother leaned forward. “Now, girls, if there is to be a ball, there shall be some eligible gentlemen.”
Emma barely stifled a groan. Mama shot her a sharp look.
“I want you to be on your best behavior. And no talking of books or nature or stars or...” Mama’s gaze settled on Emma. “Or whatever it is you’re doing now, Emma.” A dreamy look entered her eyes. “Imagine your father’s surprise if I managed to marry one of you off before his return.”
“Mama,” Amelia cautioned. While she might hope for happy endings for her sisters, none of them would be willing to marry a man they had met once at a ball. Nor would they be willing to suppress their interests for a man. She feared her mother’s dreams were going to be dashed.
“Well, I like a good dance,” Catherine said cheerfully. “Especially if my partner is handsome. But I cannot promise not to speak of the stars.”
Mama’s smile vanished. “Whatever did I do to deserve such bookish daughters. I swear I do not know where it comes from.” She sighed and cast her gaze over all of them. “Oh well, at least one of you is married off.”
“Exactly.” Julia stood and gave their mother a kiss on the cheek. Mama’s dour expression softened. “Now I will wear new ribbons but you will not catch me with flowers, Mama.”
A reluctant smile came across her face. “That is progress indeed. What say you, girls? Shall we do a little shopping to ready for the ball?”
“Yes!” they all declared.
Amelia’s sisters crowded around their mother and covered her in kisses. They all laughed but Amelia could not bring herself to join in the fun. Who could Nicholas be engaged to and why had he been so…so charming and pleasant to her? Why had he led her down a false path of hope? Her sisters might be looking forward to a chance to dance and be merry, but she could not, not when all her hopes would be dashed forever.