Home. A hint of the ocean in the air, skies the shade of her mother’s eyes, and the greenest pastures in all of England. Lady Amanda drank it all in, smiling as she watched the horses graze near the stables, east of the estate entrance.
“Still longing to ride the stallions?” Charlie murmured close to her ear.
She turned her head in surprise and found his eyes, inches from her own. Her heart sped up, and she stepped back a little in surprise. “Oh, Charlie!” She looked at him with a bit of reproach then sighed in resignation. “Must you always startle me?”
Charlie smirked. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now, eh?” He gently bumped her shoulder with his own. “How are you, Lady Amanda? Not hurt, I take it? That was a long drop from the tree this morning.”
“Some crazed lunatic throws a rock through my window, and all you can think about is the tree? You were there—you saw for yourself I am just fine.” She frowned at him and stepped farther away.
Laughing, he reached for her hands, pulling her to walk beside him. “Whoever it was throwing the rock just wanted to make a point. I’m sure he never planned to hurt you.” He avoided her eyes, then he cleared his throat. “Let’s see if he did any damage.” He made a show of looking her over for any bumps or scrapes, turning her this way and that, one eyebrow quirked up. He stopped, face close to hers again, looking into her eyes, and said, “I’m sorry about the crazed lunatic. But you look perfect, my lady. Just right.”
Amanda allowed her eyes to meet his. She was about to respond when they were interrupted by Jerome shouting, “Charlie! Let’s get these horses in their paddocks. Horatia is arriving this morning—four years we’ve been waiting for this horse. Get to work, lad!”
Charlie bowed his head to her and, with a wink, raced off to the stables.
Jerome reined in his horse in front of Amanda and tipped his head. “Lady Amanda.” A cheerful and demanding stable master, his grin always urged smiles in return. She hoped Charlie would not get into trouble for stopping to chat. She knew Jerome hoped his son would one day fill his shoes.
“Hello, Master Jerome. How are our gentlemen this morning?” Amanda grinned in welcome.
Looking over at two stallions tied to the fence, Jerome answered, “They’re the best sort of horseflesh, you know. But that makes ’em mighty difficult to saddle.” Jerome’s mouth quirked into a wry smile. “And how are you, my lady? I hear you’ve had quite a fall already today and a scare yesterday besides.” His eyes filled with concern.
Amanda sighed. “I feel perfectly safe with all the guards Father has placed about.” As if summoned by the mere mention of their presence, two footmen replaced those who stood through the night at the entrance. “Except for a bit of embarrassment that everyone now knows I was up in a tree and silly enough to fall out, I am well.”
Jerome chuckled at her response. “You have pluck, my lady, mountains’ worth of pluck. The household staff admires you for it.”
Amanda laughed. “Grateful I am to all of you for keeping me out of trouble these many years.”
Jerome chuckled and tipped his hat. “A good day to you, Lady Amanda. I best get these horses out to pasture before her majesty, Horatia, shows up.” He shook his head. “Never thought I’d live to see one of the foals of the famous Eclipse.” Master Jerome headed in the direction of Socks, who looked as though he would start kicking the fence in his irritation to still be tied there. Jerome tensed, turned back to her, and said in a low voice, “And don’t be listening to everything Charlie tells you. Some things are just best left the way they are.” He turned and continued toward Socks.
What a curious thing to say.
The sound of horse hooves interrupted her thoughts. Charlie called from the stables, “She’s here—make ready.”
A carriage with a large ducal crest entered the long drive and made its way toward the house followed by the beautiful chestnut mare, ridden by a tall man, broad across his shoulders. He looked familiar and as he drew closer, Amanda’s mouth slowly opened. This could not be Lord Nathaniel who came a few summers past to visit. That scraggly boy would hardly have filled out those riding clothes so well. Her face warmed as she recognized the direction of her thoughts.
Jerome dismounted, tied up his horse, and prepared to greet the newcomers. Lady Amanda joined him, watching as the carriage pulled in front of the estate entrance. The duke opened the house door and met his guests out front.
Amanda shook her head in amusement. Answering the front door, is he?
After a brief handshake and greeting, the three men headed in her direction, followed by a stable hand leading the lovely mare. Amanda stepped forward to greet her father and meet the others.
“You may remember my daughter from your visit a few summers ago. Allow me to introduce Lady Amanda Alexandria Cumberland.”
Amanda dipped a low curtsy.
“Amanda, this is His Grace, Edgar, Duke of Somerset, and his son, Lord Nathaniel,” her father said.
“Pleased to meet you both and welcome. Do I understand correctly that you are from Bath?” Amanda asked.
Nathaniel answered, “We are. Have you ever been to Bath, Lady Amanda?”
She liked the sound of her name and title coming from his lips. He smiled at her with a knowing grin. Oh, but he was handsome. Her eyes wandered along his firm jawline to his thick dark hair—a portion fell onto his forehead—to his eyes, which were a cloudy blue, like the sea on a misty morning. They lit with a new spark and the corners crinkled.
She realized with a start that he had asked her a question. Clearing her throat she said, “I have not had that pleasure yet, no. But I do hope Father will allow a visit someday soon. I hear the whole town is lovely.”
“Indeed it is, and if Bath is ever so fortunate as to have your company, I do hope you will call on us.”
She nodded, beginning to feel overwhelmed by his attention. She could not remember ever being so intrigued by him. “Thank you, my lord. It would be our pleasure, I am sure.” Turning toward the mare, she said, “And might I ask, is this lovely animal, Horatia?”
Her father laughed. “I am anxious to get to know her myself.” The duke noticed Jerome waiting a few steps behind Amanda. “And here is another who is chomping at the bit, so to speak. “Ho, ho! Jerome, allow me to introduce the newest addition to our stables.”
With that, the mare dipped her head, rubbing her teeth on her forward flank.
“And lovely to meet you, Your Highness,” Jerome responded with a gallant bow and a dip of his hat, earning laughs.
Charlie’s laugh carried as he walked back across the mud on the other side of the fence.
Amanda’s eyes flitted to Lord Nathaniel, who seemed to be enjoying only her. She smiled and moved over to the horse to hide from his gaze. Stroking the mare’s shiny coat, she shared a look with Charlie over Horatia’s shoulder. He raised both eyebrows a couple of times then led Socks back to his stall.
Lord Nathaniel joined her. His hand brushed hers as he reached forward to stroke the mare’s muscular back, and a thrill of tingles rushed up her arm. She turned to him and Nathaniel paused for a moment, searching her face. Then he winked at her and stepped aside to allow her father room to approach them.
The Duke of Devonshire examined his new mare. He ran his hands down her legs and lifted each hoof. “She’s perfect.” He handed the reins to Jerome and patted her on the shoulder. “Go with Jerome now, young girl. He will take good care of you.” To the others he said, “Gentlemen, shall we go inside to draw up the final papers with my solicitor? I’ll have Mrs. Gibbons send tea.” The dukes turned toward the house, and Amanda stayed behind so that she might follow Jerome.
Nathaniel tipped his hat to her. “A real pleasure to meet you, Lady Amanda.” She dipped a slow curtsy in return, grinning at him through her lashes, which she fluttered a few times. She didn’t know what else to do. She liked him but was unaccustomed to flirting. Lord Nathaniel chuckled in response and shook his head as he too turned toward the house.
But he stopped and turned toward her again, and she swallowed as he approached.
Standing close enough that her skirts brushed his knees, he stared into her eyes as he brought her gloved hand to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on her fingers. With his back toward their fathers, Lord Nathaniel’s large frame blocked their view, but Charlie, who must have been watching from the barn, coughed loudly. Nathaniel’s eyes flickered up over Amanda’s head toward the sound and back to her again.
“I hope to see you again someday.” He found the skin just above her glove on the underside of her wrist and gently, covertly stroked it with his finger. “If not in Bath, perhaps at your coming out. Will you have a Season in London?”
Her fingers still burned from his attention, and though she could feel her mind clouding over, she hoped her voice would not fail her.
“Yes, I am but sixteen now though, you see.” She felt her face heat. Surely he would dismiss her as only a child.
“Sixteen. Hmm.” His eyes traveled across her face, lingering on her lips for just a moment, long enough for Amanda to laugh and look away. He waited a moment for her eyes to meet his again, and she saw sincerity and kindness apparent there; it surprised and warmed her.
His voice soft, he said, “Soon then.”
She could not speak. Her heart still pounded in her chest. Lord Nathaniel stepped back, still locking her with his gaze. Then he tipped his head and turned to walk toward their fathers, who waited near the house with pleased smiles.
She watched him walk away, strong and purposeful in his tall boots. He looked fine in his tailcoat. He was everything a gentleman should be, she decided, still studying his retreating figure. Nathaniel turned his head slightly back to her, his knowing look and grin melting her insides. She whirled around, chastising herself for ogling.
Not fully recovered, her gaze found Charlie observing her closely. She called to him, “Let’s see this horse then, shall we?”
Charlie grinned in response, dropped the pitchfork he had been holding, and walked to meet her and Jerome, whom Amanda followed to Horatia’s stall.
Charlie and Amanda spent the rest of the morning helping Jerome acclimate the new horse. As it was nearing time for her afternoon lessons, Amanda frowned. “I had better get back inside.”
“Lady Amanda, can I talk to you for a minute first?” Charlie closed the distance between them and watched her face closely.
She took a small step back. “Of course, but we’ve been talking all morning, haven’t we?” she teased.
“I saw you with Lord Nathaniel.” Charlie ran a hand through his hair. “He was . . . friendly.”
Her eyes darted away in surprise. “Yes, I suppose he was.” A blush crept onto her cheeks. She forced herself to return his gaze.
His eyes lingered on her cheeks and with a tighter jaw he continued. “You let him kiss your hand.”
Amanda sucked in her breath.
Charlie asked, “Do you feel some sort of regard for him?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know. He was attentive, that’s all.” She waved her hand in the air. “It means nothing. I will probably never see him again.”
“You cannot give men such liberties. You are but a child. And he . . . well, he is not.”
A great fire of indignation rose inside her.
He must have noticed because he added in a more placating tone, “He is obviously a rake. What proper gentleman would play with the affections of a girl so young?”
Her mouth opened and then closed, and her eyes narrowed. “Maybe he is interested in getting to know me. And even if you haven’t noticed, I am not a child any longer. At least, he obviously doesn’t think so.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned from him.
Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder, gently rotating her to face him. “I’m sorry. This is coming out all wrong. That’s not what I meant to say at all. I saw the two of you standing so closely, you staring at him with those eyes of yours.”
She could feel her cheeks heating up again. Could this conversation get any more uncomfortable?
He looked away, his foot kicking the dirt.
A moment passed. Amanda waited for her confusion, anger, embarrassment, and all the myriad emotions rushing through her to slow and calm.
He stopped fidgeting and stepped closer to her. “I felt like someone punched me in the gut. It seemed all sorts of wrong, him standing so close to you, and it was all I could do to stop myself from threatening him with my pitchfork!” A bitter tone edged his laughter.
Amanda’s heart warmed. “But why should you care at all? We didn’t even say anything important. And you and I talk for hours and have all sorts of fun. You are the best friend I have.”
“But that’s just it. I saw him with you and realized I don’t want to be your best friend.”
She wrinkled her forehead and squinted her eyes. “What?”
Charlie moved even closer, pulling her back into a corner of the stables, his face full of hope. He reached forward and rested the palm of his hand on the side of her face.
A delicious sort of anxiety filled her. Teetering on the brink of something dangerous, she was equal parts enticed and afraid.
Step away, she told herself, but her feet would not move.
“I do want to be your best friend, but I am hoping—that is to say, I would really like it, if you would consider me to be more than a friend.”
“You would?” she whispered.
Charlie leaned closer until his lips were almost touching hers.
She breathed in slowly, searching his eyes. She should step back, at least one step. She knew she should.
“I’m saying I care for you, Amanda.” He pressed his lips to hers softly and quickly, and backed away a half step, ready to retreat.
“Oh!” Amanda breathed. A soft thrill ran through her. She looked up at him hesitantly. “I care for you too, Charlie.” She reached her fingers up to touch her lips. A horse whinnied and stomped his hoofs. Reality cleared her fog. And something close to alarm pounded through her. She searched the stables. No one near. Jerome busy inside. “But, Charlie, you know that we can never—”
“Lady Amanda, I know.” He sounded almost desperate, and he began talking faster. “But things are changing. I know some people who say reform is on the way. We could make it work, maybe . . . someday.” He pulled her close again, leaning down to kiss her one more time.
“What is the meaning of this?” her father thundered. “You will unhand her this instant.”
They both stepped apart, and Amanda wished to sink away, hidden. She hoped her father had not seen their kiss. Dread filled her at the thought of the consequences. Charlie’s face turned a bright shade of red, but fire lit his eyes.
The duke’s eyes flashed. “Amanda, I did not raise you for this!”
“But Father, surely you see there is no harm. It is just Charlie.”
“What I see is far more than you can see. Charles, I want you to limit your activities on this estate to those for which you are in our employ. I have been too lenient with the both of you. And you have betrayed my trust.” Looking meaningfully at Charlie, he said, “It is time you remembered your place and station in life.”
Amanda grimaced. “Father—”
Ignoring her, he continued. “Charles, you will meet me in my office with your father tomorrow morning, and we will discuss your placement elsewhere.”
“No!” Amanda grasped her father’s arm.
“And Amanda, if you wish to come down to the stables, or anywhere else for that matter, you will do so with a chaperone. Do I make myself clear?”
“What! On my own grounds? I shall feel as though I live in a cage!”
“It is high time you begin to act your age and your station. You are my daughter and as such . . .” The duke began pacing in front of them. “Cavorting with stable hands . . .”
Amanda gasped and Charlie sucked in a breath.
He stopped in front of them and placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he looked them both in the eyes in turn. “As good a friend as Charles may be—I know he has been like a brother to you—spending time with a stable hand and being viewed in an”—the duke waved his hand in their direction— “intimate manner reflects poorly on both of you. This is not the way things are done.”
She thought her mortification complete. But her father continued anyway. “I blame myself. I see I have let you two run freely long enough. Charles, please see to my horse. He needs an extra washing this evening. And Amanda, come with me into the house. Your mother would like you to join us as we entertain the Duke of Somerset and his son.”
She looked over her shoulder as they walked away. Charlie kicked the dirt again, but he headed back toward the stable to find the duke’s horse as requested. She turned her head to look at her father, his worry lines deeper than usual. She could feel the tension rolling off him.
“I’m sorry, Father.”
He stopped and sighed, facing the house. “I know, my dear. Let us not speak of it.” Then he took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes. The strength of his obvious love and its constancy moved her. He spoke softly. “But prepare yourself, my Amanda. Things will be very different for you now. You are growing up. Men and boys are starting to notice you. Lord Nathaniel certainly expressed an interest.” The duke looked at the house again and grunted in amused displeasure. “I came out myself to summon you because I wanted to tell you before we return to the house. He is a good man, and he has a sincere desire to know you better.”
Wonder filled her. She could not stop her smile.
The duke shook his head and brought one of her hands up to the side of his face. “This is all happening much too quickly for me. I thought surely I had my little girl a while longer.” He pulled her into a gentle embrace, and she felt the security she had always known. She allowed herself a moment to simply enjoy it.
“Oh, Father, I’m not going anywhere. And I’m certain Charlie will be back to normal by morning. Truly, we skip rocks. He has never . . .” She blushed, flustered. “What is left for me now? Sit and do needlepoint? You know I cannot abide—”
“Amanda, Amanda, my dear. Let us hope Lord Nathaniel did not witness your embrace.” His eyebrow raised, and the look he gave her stopped her resistance and brought more heat to her face. “There will still be time for fun. But you must now work harder and spend more time obeying that governess of yours and following the fine example of your mother in your education and decorum.”
She sighed in reluctant acceptance and nodded. Turning back toward the stables, she said, “I think you have hurt Charlie terribly.” She felt indignation rising again as she thought over the conversation. “Employment elsewhere? How could you say those things to dear Charlie?” She couldn’t stop the tiny sob that escaped from her throat while she spoke. She clenched her fists and blinked back her tears.
“How can you not understand? If he had kissed you, if anyone had seen the two of you in such an embrace—you could well be ruined.”
She forced her expression not to change.
“Even as far from London as we are, people talk. Servants talk.”
She understood, of course. Society’s strictures had been drilled into her as a young child. But none of those rules ever seemed to apply where Charlie was concerned.
He reached for her elbow, guiding her in the direction of the house. “I care for the lad, of course I do. I know I hurt him. But it cannot be helped. He is a servant. Though we have allowed him much freedom here on our estate, what with Cook doting on him as she does, and you and he playing together like siblings . . . none of that changes his station in life. Better to hurt him now than for disaster to happen later.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I delayed too long in separating the two of you. You were born to be a lady, to marry nobility, to help care for people on an estate, and to continue our ancient family line. There is no room for a stable hand in your future, except to groom and care for your horses.”
An awful clenching tightness filled her chest. The loss of Charlie sat at the center of a much broader ache and sense of failure. She grasped inside herself for any carefree childhood feeling, but the elusive memories flitted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of duty and responsibility pressing in upon her. What if she could never master the proper behavior and deportment of a duke’s daughter? And if she did, what if she loathed it?
The blue sky, instead of feeling vast, bore down on her with so much pressure that the air around her felt thick, and she struggled to fill her lungs. With a cry, she broke into a run, her father calling after her; she did not stop.
Amanda ran as far and as fast as she could. With no destination in mind, she ran across the lawn, around the house, across the back gardens toward the pond. Her lungs and side aching, she stopped to rest in the cool shade of the white gazebo. She sat on a stone bench, staring at nothing, waiting for her breathing to slow; the cold from the stone seeped through her thin gown and chilled her.
She ran a finger along her lower lip, reliving Charlie’s kiss. She wished to hide under the bench. How could she have let him do that? And then Lord Nathaniel’s touch still tingled. She wrapped her arms around herself. She enjoyed his attention too much. Was Charlie right? Was Lord Nathaniel just a rake, toying with her? And now, to never run free on her own estate? Charlie dismissed? Too much emotion coursed through her.
The rock’s message entered her mind. Freedom for all or none. Amanda agreed with her assailant.
She closed her eyes against too many thoughts, blocking them all. Numbness settled, and she just sat.
A bird’s chirping startled her out of her stupor. To her right, sparrows eyed her from their cage. Mrs. Gibbons, the housekeeper, often asked the footmen to place the birds outside on days with lovely weather.
They usually brought her great comfort: caged, but cheerful and active. Except not today. This afternoon, they mirrored her own feelings. Instead of singing brightly, they remained eerily silent. She watched with concern. All eight of them clutched the bars on the side of the cage with their feet, some tilting their heads so one eye could look upward at the sky, others watching the woods.
Movement to her left distracted her, and she frowned. One of Father’s promised footmen had found her and he stood guard down the path.
A sparrow made another small chirping noise. From the woods, the sound of an answering bird reached them. Wild sparrows sang to each other and jumped from branch to branch in the small copse of trees near her gazebo. And then her sparrows started chirping and calling from their cage. One of the birds flew at the bars, knocked her head on the side of the cage, and fell to the bottom in a daze.
“Oh, you poor dear.” She understood their desperation and their longing. Her own heart felt caged, and she yearned to fly free. Moving as if in a dream, sluggish at first, then faster and deliberately, she took the remaining steps to the cage. With one swift movement, she threw open the door and stepped back, her arms stiff at her sides, fists clenched. The birds burst out, flying into the open, higher and higher, dipping and diving in circles and flying higher yet again. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined she was with them, flying high with no limits, as if she could break the sky.
When she opened her eyes again, she spread her arms and ran across the grass, swaying and dipping and curving as she had when she was a little girl. Time passed unnoticed by Amanda, her awareness consumed by a delirious sensation of freedom. The world around her invisible, she finally stopped and watched intently as all of her sparrows returned from the sky to settle in the branches of a tree. She breathed out the tightness and tension in her shoulders.
And she felt strangely at peace.
Unseen, closer to the house, Lord Nathaniel watched. He had seen Lady Amanda run blindly from her father, seen the caged expression in her face.
Curious, he had moved from his position in the library so he could slip out the door leading to the gardens, unnoticed. He smiled, amused when she let the birds go, but as his gaze followed their progress, he understood—he too exulted in their freedom. As the sparrows soared into the sky, a restless desire filled him, a longing to be free.