Amanda stilled her breathing and placed a hand across her stomach to calm the fluttering. She stood at the top of the stairs, waiting for her father and mother.
Her brilliant white dress flowed down to her feet, hair done up in piles of auburn curls on top of her head, a few placed carefully to frame her face. She willed her heart to slow. Her mother had chosen the guest list to help ease and comfort. Most attending her come-out were dear family and friends. Her aunt and uncle, Lady Amelia and Lord Ethan, Countess and Earl of Norfolk, had graciously offered to host her first ball.
In one week’s time, she would be presented at court. And then her first Season would begin. She closed her eyes and smiled.
Her mind drifted to Charles as she awaited her parents. These last eight months she had seen very little of her old childhood friend, who was dismissed from their service. She did see him time and again because a neighboring estate employed him, but when they crossed paths, he nodded his head with a restrained, “Lady Amanda.” She had missed him dearly, but more and more, preparations to be a lady and run an estate replaced her childhood activities.
She loved her visits to the tenants and her help with the local school in the vicarage. She’d relished studying from master poets. She loved to read history. She had quickly grasped French and Italian. Needlepoint was still a chore, but drawing and painting were a joy.
Her days of childhood play and Charlie were becoming increasingly distant, although pleasurable, memories. The night before she left for her aunt and uncle’s estate, completely unexpectedly, she found one white rose with a note in her horse’s stall.
Dear Amanda,
My heart remains with you. I hope one day for the change that can set
us free.
Charles
Could he really still harbor hope? Remembering his words now, a vague sense of unease settled over her. She should have taken the note directly to her father. But after everything that had happened, she hadn’t dared. Charlie would have been dismissed immediately from his new employment, and she couldn’t do that to an old friend.
His note brought with it disturbing memories of another note, tied to a rock thrown onto her bed. Freedom for all or none. So different in tone: one filled with hope and the other a threat. As her mind turned again to Charlie’s note, the uneasiness worked its tendrils through her mind and tightened her chest. She vowed to have an uncomfortable conversation with Charlie when she returned home.
She shook her head slightly. Away with her troublesome thoughts. She would not allow them, not tonight when everything had been planned so carefully. She determined to enjoy every moment of the evening: the gowns, the flowers, the friends, the men. The familiar sound of her father’s shoes on the stairs behind her increased her happy anticipation.
He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, my darling girl. I am so very proud of all you have become.”
Amanda felt her throat tighten and her eyes mist. “Thank you, Father. I owe so much to so many, but most of all to you and Mother.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
The duke’s eyes shone with love. “Your mother and I could not imagine a better daughter. This dress, your beauty, all of this merely an adornment for the stunning woman beneath. He held up a necklace of sapphires. “We want you to have these.”
Amanda’s eyes widened in delight. “They are exquisite! Thank you.” She fingered the stones.
“They match your eyes, you know; brilliant blue, just like your mother’s.” Amanda smiled and turned so that he could fasten the clasp, securing the sapphires resting at her neckline.
“Now we are ready. Shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm. Together they descended the stairs until he paused as his eyes moved toward the landing, where Amanda’s mother stood. “She still takes my breath away.”
Marian returned her husband’s gaze with adoration of her own and then moved her eyes to rest on Amanda, love filling her face.
Amanda didn’t think she could be any happier than at that moment, basking in the love of her family. Its strength gave her confidence, and a thrill of energy coursed through her. “Let’s go, then,” she said and kissed her mother’s cheeks then hastened their pace down the hallway toward the ballroom entrance.
Her mother laughed good-naturedly and nodded to the footman. When the doors opened, the musicians stopped, and everyone in the room turned in welcome.
Amanda looked out over her friends and family and smiled. A few of her mother’s dear friends turned to her with tear-filled eyes, hands on their hearts. Amanda held her chin held high as she proudly stood with her parents.
“His Grace, William Cumberland, Duke of Devonshire,” the master of ceremonies announced. “Her Grace, Marian Atwater Cumberland, Duchess of Devonshire, and their daughter, Lady Amanda Alexandria Cumberland.”
The duke bowed, and the duchess and Amanda curtsied low. The music began again, and people resumed their conversations.
Flowers filled the room, cascading off tables, crowding vases in every corner and overflowing from wall sconces. Echoing Amanda’s dress, the white floral adorned the ball and turned every thought to her. Candles filled the hall. Tables with bowls of lemonade and bites of tarts lined one wall. In Amanda’s mind, the greatest adornments in the room moved about inside it. Brilliant dresses and brightly colored tailcoats shifted in intricate social patterns, approaching and fading and circling each other in conversation. Amanda grinned in anticipation.
After greeting her uncle and aunt, Amanda and her parents walked a few more steps into the room, where they were met immediately by a tall gentleman with light-brown hair. His friendly, open face and engaging, intelligent eyes put her at ease and sparked her curiosity.
A kind-looking woman with many smile lines approached at his left, and Amanda’s father made the introductions. Apparently Lord Jonathon Needley had become an earl at a young age. Besides the misfortune of such a name, Amanda found much to be pleased with in this new acquaintance; but when he bowed over her hand, she felt no rush of energy or excitement, only mild curiosity. He secured two dances on her card and then stepped aside as others worked their way forward to greet her.
Her father held out his arm. “Well, my little flower. Shall we dazzle them with our excellent dancing?” Walking out to the floor as the music cued for their first dance, he winked at her.
With a spark of challenge, she said, “Dazzle them, Father? They shall all be made blind, I am sure of it.” The duke laughed his great belly laugh, and several people turned in curiosity. The nearest matrons shared indulgent smiles and then whispered together with hands on their hearts and their fans fluttering.
Amanda began the steps with a teasing glint in her eye. She loved the freedom of movement across the floor. She could express so much with her body—with a simple gesture, with the manner in which she held her head or her hands.
She and her father shared this love of dancing, and the pair of them drew many eyes from the crowd at the end of their set.
When they finished he approached the duchess next, bowing over her hand with a schoolboy excitement. Amanda smiled fondly at them. She hoped—no, she longed, for the kind of love they shared. Could it be found with someone here, even in this room?
Lord Needley’s hand, reaching for her own, interrupted her thoughts. “I do believe this set is ours, my lady.” His warm, kind smile, full of brilliant white teeth, made her grin. He seemed to be left speechless for a moment as he stared in wonder at her face. She blushed and looked at her shoes. Must he stare at me so?
“I apologize, my lady. I quite forgot what I was about. Shall we dance?”
Amanda, relieved, returned her eyes to his.
Lord Needley, although a good dancer, could not compare to her father; she wondered if Papa would be glad to know the other gentlemen in the room would be found wanting.
She enjoyed her time with this new handsome earl very much. Their fathers shared a close camaraderie at Oxford and had maintained close contact, although their estates were not in easy travelling distance of each other. That thought troubled her for a moment. And then she stopped herself. Must I analyze every partner as a future husband? Can I not simply enjoy the dance? She determined to do so. To the earl she said, “What a wonderful night this is turning out to be. I am afraid I am quite overwhelmed by it all, really.”
“Yes, it is easy to see how one could be completely overwhelmed, especially gazing into eyes such as yours.”
She willed her face to maintain a neutral expression. “Oh, Lord Needley, I hope many women have heard those kind words from you. There are so many beautiful faces. I dare say, a room full of them.”
When she had circled around through the other dancers in their line and they came back together in the dance, he replied, “And I have eyes only for one.”
She searched his face. He seemed sincere. “Then, I thank you.” She dipped her head in acknowledgement and wondered at his intensity. Have I not just met the man?
She was not unaffected by him, for certain, but if he kept on in this fashion, he might squelch anything she could feel in return.
Women from all directions looked with envy at the pair of them. And why wouldn’t they? He was a kind and handsome earl. She imagined he sat at the top of more than a few debutantes’ lists of hopefuls. As her gaze continued to wander around the room, the intense stare of another captured her attention. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, and hid a smile of excitement. But she could do nothing about the added pink to her cheeks. Lord Needley’s lip curled into a small smile and he held her a bit closer, his hands lingering a bit longer as they moved past each other through the dance. She hardly noticed, her eyes seeking out and catching the new face again.
She had not forgotten Lord Nathaniel this past year, or his lingering kiss on her hand. Her hands trembled in anticipation. She dared another look in his direction. His eyes still followed her. And now he stood just off the dance floor, in obvious declaration of his intent to approach as soon as she was free.
Lord Needley followed her distracted gaze to see the cause. Concern flickered across his face. “Are you acquainted with the infamous Lord Nathaniel?” he asked.
“Infamous? For what is he infamous?” she wondered aloud, full of curiosity.
At this question, Lord Needley fumbled about a bit and seemed to look for an appropriate way to respond. “He . . . well, that is to say . . . he is a bit of a rake, that is all.”
She blushed deeper. “Oh, I see.”
The dance came to an end, and Lord Needley held his arm out for her to take as he moved to escort her to the top of the line for their next set.
Lord Nathaniel intercepted them before they had walked more than a few paces. “Lord Needley, how are you, fine man? Captured the loveliest girl in the room I see. I am enchanted.” He bowed in Lord Needley’s direction but looked only at Amanda. He was more handsome than she remembered, his hair more tousled, his eyes a deeper blue, his shoulders broader.
Lord Needley interrupted her thoughts. “Yes, I was fortunate enough to secure her hand for this next set as well. If you’ll excuse us, it is soon to begin.”
Nathaniel put his hand on Lord Needley’s shoulder, stalling his intended escape. “Well now, a slight detour will not distress anyone unduly. Lady Amanda.” She raised her eyebrows in surprise at his bold tone. “Might I say, you look ravishing. Quite took my breath away. You are not sixteen any longer.”
Lord Needley stiffened next to her. But Lord Nathaniel took her hand and gallantly bowed over it, gently bringing it to his lips in the process. The familiar tingle remained after he stood and released her hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to say something.
She cleared her throat. Feeling her temperature rise, she wished for her fan. “It is good to see you again, my lord.” She dipped a low curtsy, slowly rising, looking up at him through her fluttering lashes. Would he remember? His laugh carried to the couples nearby at this repeat performance. Then he nodded once more at her and turned to walk away in the opposite direction.
Amanda’s mouth opened, watching him swagger off and greet friends on the other side of the room. “How abrupt of him,” she gasped before she could stop herself. Lord Needley gently restored her hand to his arm and led her back onto the floor to join the line of dancers.
Before they began, he said, “Thank you for our dances. I don’t know that I have enjoyed one quite so much as I did ours. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to call on you this week?” She was not yet fully paying attention but awoke from her stupor when she noticed that Lord Needley was looking down at her expectantly, awaiting a response.
“Oh yes! Yes of course, Lord Needley. I would be honored to receive you.” She liked this young earl. He was a good sort of man, she could tell. Kindness lit his eyes. Hopefully she could summon within herself something more than friendship for him, something that left her skin tingling as a certain other young gentleman just had.
After their second set, they arrived to stand with her parents. Lord Needley chatted with them all for a moment, and then he and the duke excused themselves to talk to a group of men a few feet over.
Her mother smiled warmly at her and Amanda felt a bit of the sun enter the room. Her mother’s words were a balm. “Amanda darling, you look simply stunning. Your face just glows. Are you as happy as you seem?” The duchess’s face also glowed with happiness.
“Oh, yes, Mama, everything is absolutely lovely. Was it this wonderful for you when you had your Season?” She knew her mother had met her father at a ball similar to this one.
Her mother’s hesitant tone surprised her. “Mostly, yes. I was immediately drawn to your father. He had such a presence, quite dominated the room—just like now, I suppose.” She smiled fondly at him and he, feeling her gaze, grinned in return. Her mother continued. “All the women in the room were drawn to him, it seemed.”
Amanda inserted, “But he was drawn to only you. He’s told me so a thousand times.”
Her mother nodded. “And it was true. He danced two sets with me and then, as propriety wouldn’t allow more, he glowered at all my other partners who came for their sets for the rest of the evening. Men were quite intimidated by him, but I didn’t mind.”
Amanda loved this story.
“It couldn’t have been any more wonderful, up until . . .”
Her mother’s face drained of color as she stared toward the entrance to the ballroom. There stood a man with a long scar on the side of his face. His gaze so fixed on her mother, Amanda wondered if he blinked.
Then her mother finished her sentence. “Until he showed up.” She turned immediately toward her husband, but the duke faced the other direction now. This strange new man made his way slowly, the crowd parting curiously around him as he moved like a snake in their direction.
“Who is that, Mother? He makes me nervous.” Amanda’s heart pounded and she gripped her mother’s hand in her own.
He stopped in front of them and bowed. “Marian.”
Amanda looked in surprise at her mother. Who was this eerie man who dared call her mother by her first name? She searched for her father. He had noticed them and was quickly making his way in their direction, a look of steel in his eyes.
Her mother said, “Mr. Bender.”
Amanda gasped. Bender.
The duchess glanced at her daughter and continued. “What are you doing here? You know His Grace . . .”
The duke arrived at their side. “Bender. What is the meaning of this?” With a lift of his finger, two footmen appeared. One stood at each side and placed their hands on Bender’s arms, ready to escort him out. With slight pressure, they started moving toward the door. It was obvious to Amanda that they were hoping to leave the room without creating a scene and marring an otherwise lovely evening.
But it seemed Bender would have none of that. “Unhand me this minute!” he shouted.
The conversation in the ballroom stopped.
“What’s the matter, William?” Jack sneered. “Afraid I might sully your brother’s home? Embarrass you in front of your guests?”
The Duke of Cumberland waved his hands, and the footmen more forcibly grabbed Bender’s arms and began to drag him out. Two more footmen rushed to aid, and the four of them dragged a kicking Mr. Bender toward the door; the man shouted all the way, “You know, you don’t control everything! A duke is not God. People are growing tired of your airs and nobility. Tired of the lot of you!” He strained his neck, indicating everyone in the room. He cackled a screechy laugh, setting all the hairs on Amanda’s arms on end.
Bender deepened his voice. “If you can’t learn to share, we will take it all from you.” The footmen moved more quickly toward the back part of the house, where, Amanda was certain, he would be contained until a Bow Street Runner could be summoned.
However, just as they turned toward a hallway out of sight, chaos ensued. A huge crowd of rough-looking, tattered, and boisterous men poured in through the ballroom entrance. They knocked servants to the ground and pushed their way in, in one large mass. Threadbare, unclean clothes and disheveled hair stormed the room all around Amanda. Women screamed and fell, swooning, to the floor. Gentlemen moved to catch them and waved fans in their faces. Window glass shattered and flew across the floor as a linen-wrapped package slid to a stop at Amanda’s feet. Similar packages broke more windows and crashed all around them.
Amanda read the message: Freedom for all or none. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Her mother, who had been watching Bender, wrapped her arms around Amanda as Lord Needley showed up at their side.
Her father said, “Oh good, Needley, please take Lady Amanda and the duchess into Lord Hamilton’s study, now!”
“Papa! Where are you going?” Amanda cried.
“I’m going to make sure the rat doesn’t escape this time.”
Her father took off at a run in the direction of the straining group of men. Others continued to burst into her aunt and uncles’ home. Soon their guests would be completely overtaken by the mob. She caught a glimpse of the duke just outside the ballroom, pulling Bender by the back of his collar and yanking him down, the footmen trailing and securing Bender’s arms.
The burning smell of sulfur overpowered the lovely floral scent. Added to that were the odors of whiskey and human sweat and waste coming from the invaders; Amanda felt the urge to retch. She covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief.
Lord Needley tugged gently on her arm and applied gentle pressure to her lower back with his other hand, leading her through the chaos toward the ballroom door.
London’s worst, the awful dredges of the city’s population, ripped at the draperies and knocked over the vases with the gorgeous flowers. They grabbed at women and tore their dresses, ripping jewelry from their necks, planting wet kisses on disgusted mouths. The intruders tipped tables and drank from the punch bowl.
Women in the room scattered and screamed. A short, pudgy man tried to steal cakes from the refreshment table while a lady from Her Grace’s charity organization swung her reticule madly at his face and neck, shouting with each successful impact. Except for the brave woman’s interference, very few stood in the way of these street ruffians at first. Most guests attempted to clear the room as quickly as possible, her mother, Amanda, and Lord Needley included.
“Going somewhere, swell?” A huge mass of a man completely blocked their retreat.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Now kindly get out of our way!” Lord Needley shoved the man aside.
Amanda eyed her friend with new respect, but the intruder was not deterred. He stepped back in front of them with anger in his eyes. Reeking of whiskey and vomit, he pulled back his fist, ready to let it fly into Lord Needley’s face. Before he made impact, Lord Nathaniel surprised him from behind and swung a fire poker at the side of his head. The huge oaf fell forward and would have landed on the duchess had Amanda not pulled her in the opposite direction and started running.
“Lady Amanda! Wait!” Lord Needley called.
But Amanda was finished waiting. Seeing their way to the entrance door was barred by the crowd, she ran to get herself and her mother to safety. A tall vase crashed to the floor directly behind them, and two men fell at their feet, swinging fists and rolling on the ground. Amanda and her mother yelped in surprise and ran faster. Amanda dodged a man as he swung his fist in rapid succession into the faces of three others who surrounded him. Leading her mother, she worked their way through the ballroom to the other side and out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens.
“Where are we going?” her mother looked around in confusion. Then comprehension dawned. “No. Amanda, you cannot possibly think . . .”
Amanda’s childhood adventures were finally paying off. “What other choice do we have, Mother?” Amanda hitched up her gown, sat on the stone railing and slipped one leg over to the other side, where she knew there was a trellis. She held a hand out to her mother. “Come, Mama, we have no time.” The duchess looked around in all directions.
Amanda said, “No one is watching.”
With a worried expression, her mother hoisted up her skirts as well and followed Amanda over the banister. They clung to the trellis as they both slowly climbed down to the grounds below.
Relief at having reached the ground without falling was quickly replaced by renewed fear when they realized their mistake. As they backed up against the stone wall of the house, sounds of the rough crowd and fighting filled the gardens in front of them. They cowered in the shadow of the balcony, peering out toward the grounds. Four unsavory men ran past, shouting words Amanda knew the definitions of but had never heard strung together.
“We must hide.” Her mother clutched her hand, pulling her farther back under the balcony, but one of the men had seen them and stopped abruptly, pulling on another’s arm. Soon all four had turned their attention to the women.
“Well, would ya look a’ tha’, Ernest. Would ya look a’ tha’?”
Amanda froze with her mother. A dark, evil sensation rippled through her. The men hungrily searched their faces with crazed eyes, their gazes running up and down the lengths of them. One stepped closer, his hands opening and closing. His hair stuck to his scalp with grease, large lumps of white matting strands of hair together. Pockmarked and red, he leered at them, his mouth full of brown, chipped teeth.
“Leave us alone,” Amanda’s mother commanded, her imperious tone every bit the duchess.
The men only laughed. The one apparently called Ernest said, “You are in no position to be taking any tone with us, Your Mightiness. Now come a little closer so we can get a good look at you.”
Amanda and her mother pressed their backs to the wall behind them, and Amanda trembled in fear. She looked around, desperate for an idea, anything that would get them away and safe.
“I said come closer.” The man stepped forward and grabbed Amanda’s arm, bruising her with his fingers, she was sure.
He yanked her closer, and the duchess called out, “Stop! Don’t touch her.” She ran at the man, pulling on his arm, trying to step between them.
Amanda struggled against his grip while she scratched and clawed him, kicking his shins; her mother pulled at his fingers, trying to pry them from her arm—all to no avail. He brought his hand up and knocked her mother on the side of the head, sending her toppling to the ground.
Horror filled Amanda, her lungs tightening. Desperately, she looked at her mother, willing her to move. Ernest laughed, his breath and drops of saliva spattering one side of Amanda’s face. Nearly gagging from the rotten stink coming from his mouth, Amanda set her jaw and forced herself to look at her captor. “What is it you want? Reward? I am sure my father will pay handsomely for our return.”
His free hand began stroking her other arm. Amanda stiffened and tried to pull away. “That’s not the kind of reward I’m looking for, little miss. I’ll be taking you home with me, I will.” His hand moved to her waist, pulling her against him.
She turned away, his hot breath all but melting her hair. The dark tightness in her chest intensified. Amanda desperately tried to wiggle free, stomping on his feet, but her soft slippers did little to harm him through his big, solid worker’s boots. What else could she do? Powerless, terror gripped her.
She screamed, loud and long. “Help us! Oh! Please help us!” She tried to push away from his loathsome body.
The other men laughed. One hitched his pants up and goaded, “Come on, Ernest, can’t control that little slip?”
She pummeled him across the chest. She did not think; she struck out, clawing his face, hitting any part of his body or clothing she could reach.
But he stopped her with one hand sent across her face, nearly knocking her to the earth. “There will be no more of that, do you understand?” He clamped her mouth so tightly she could feel bruises beginning where his fingers pressed into her skin. She nodded. Madly, she searched their surroundings. Nothing. No one to see or to help ventured near.
Her breath coming faster, she tried to slow it. Squinting in the darkness, she sought her mother. The duchess lay absolutely still, but as Amanda’s eyes focused, she saw that her mother’s eyes were wide open, watching the balcony above. She subtly gestured upward with her head, and then she winked. A drop of hope lessoned the tension in Amanda’s chest. She tried not to alert her captors, and the corner of her eye caught movement on the balcony.
Before she could move out of the way, a body hurtled down onto them from above. Knocked to the ground and dazed, she blinked two or three times before she picked herself up and ran to her mother’s side. Carefully helping her mother rise, Amanda embraced her.
Her mother winced, holding her head with one hand, leaning on Amanda. She raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh.”
Amanda turned in the direction of her mother’s gaze.
Lord Nathaniel sat astride the belly of their captor and delivered a swift and strong blow to the side of his face, knocking him unconscious. Ernest sprawled on the ground near them. The others had deserted their friends.
Lord Nathaniel pulled an arm back, ready to hit him again.
She called to her rescuer, “Lord Nathaniel. LORD NATHANIEL!” She shook his shoulder. “Stop.”
Lord Nathaniel stilled, looked down at the man below him, and lowered his arms. His head dropped. After several long breaths, he looked uncomfortably at her mother and then back at her. His gaze intense, he asked in a low voice, “Did he hurt you?”
Her heart went to her throat. She shook her head. “Not really.”
Nathaniel’s eyes burned a path to hers through the air. She felt the force of his fierce protection deep inside and it warmed her; a new feeling of wonder crept in. He held her gaze, searching, and then after a moment he nodded.
Rising to stand, he paused and flexed his fist, staring at the man at his feet. Amanda could almost see a wave of sorrow roll over him. But when turning back to face her, his mouth turned up in a sheepish smile. “So, do you think he’s out?”
Amanda couldn’t help the nervous giggle that escaped her mouth. “Yes, I think you got him.”
Nathaniel tilted his head to the side. “His nose is straighter now. Perhaps I made an improvement?”
She shivered. “He had much room for improvement.” Looking into Lord Nathaniel’s eyes as he stepped closer, Amanda said, “We thank you. I don’t know what we would have done . . .” Her mouth turned down and her face pinched in pain, tears threatening to fall, and she looked between her mother and Lord Nathaniel. “Why would anyone do this?”
The duchess moved forward, pulling Amanda into her arms. “I don’t know, my sweet. I just don’t know.” She paused. “But you can be sure your father will not rest until he finds out.”
The sound of broken glass gave them little warning of the man who crashed through the upstairs window and landed not six feet from where they were standing. Amanda shrieked as splinters of glass fell all around them and landed on her slippers.
Lord Nathaniel moved quickly, favoring his knuckles, and led the ladies away. “We must get you to safety.” At that moment, loud whistles and the sound of dozens of boots on the stone floor filtered out through the open doorway on the balcony above. Nathaniel took a deep breath. “Sounds like the magistrate has arrived, finally.” They hurried to the side of the London home and through a servant’s entrance. Navigating the servants’ hallways, they entered Uncle Ethan’s study through a panel, just as the duke charged through the other door looking for them.
“Oh, thank heavens you are safe.” He rushed to his ladies, pulling them both into his chest, his arms encircling them in a protective and grateful embrace.
Amanda enjoyed the pounding of his heart against her cheek and felt him shift as he spoke over her head in Lord Nathaniel’s direction.
“What happened?”
But it was Amanda who answered from her protective cocoon inside her father’s arms, her voice a bit muffled as she spoke into his chest. “We were down in the garden. I think they would have taken us away. And they hurt Mother!”
The duke pulled back a little in alarm to look his wife over. “Where? Are you all right, my dear?”
She rested a hand on his arm. “Just some bruises, I think. Although I would be happy to have Dr. Fielding examine us both.
The duke nodded. “He has already been summoned.”
“I’m afraid he might be much needed tonight.” Her eyes filled with sorrow and worry. The duke and duchess shared a long look.
Amanda’s muffled voice again spoke from her father’s embrace. “And then Lord Nathaniel jumped from the balcony!” The duke’s eyebrows rose in surprise and Lord Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders. “He landed on the men and fought them—rendered them both unconscious. He saved us. I . . . I didn’t know what to do or how to get away. They were so strong.”
Feeling completely powerless in the hands of another had been one of the worst feelings of her life. Even thinking of it now, her breathing picked up again, and she started to feel dizzy. “I couldn’t get away. Couldn’t move, even.” She squeezed her father around his middle and buried her head in his chest.
“My sweet Amanda. You are safe.” He rubbed his palm up and down her back in a soothing rhythm. She felt his head turn. “Thank you, Lord Nathaniel.”
“Maidens in distress and all that, you know . . .” Amanda peeked out. Nathaniel shrugged. “I cannot resist a good rescue.”
A slight pinch pulled at her new-found peace. The moment between them had felt important.
“You are to be commended. If anything had happened to my dears, if they had been hurt . . .” The duke paused, clearing his throat. He continued with much emotion. “It just doesn’t bear thinking of. You have my deepest gratitude.”
Lord Nathaniel smiled and nodded in acceptance, a pleased light in his eyes. “Hopefully the magistrate and his watchmen will have taken care of everything by now.”
“They are clearing out the place, hauling miscreants off to jail while footmen help our guests find their carriages. I must go and talk to one Hucklebee, if I’m not mistaken. Would you please stay with them, Lord Nathaniel?”
Amanda felt Nathaniel’s gaze. She tilted her head again so she could meet his eyes.
“Of course,” Nathaniel said.
The duke continued. “And I will send Dr. Fielding in to you directly to see to your hands.” Nathaniel held his bloodied and cracked knuckles and raised his eyebrows.
The door banged open to reveal a flushed and agitated Lord Needley. Amanda jerked her head up. With great relief on his face, Lord Needley said, “I have spent the last half hour trying to reach you, my lady, Your Graces.” He bowed to them. “I hope you are well?”
“Yes, they are well,” the duke responded in their behalf. “Thanks be to God and Lord Nathaniel, here.”
Still in her father’s arms, Amanda looked up into his face. “Lord Needley helped us as well. We would have been dragged away from the house directly had it not been for him and Lord Nathaniel both.”
The duke smiled. “Well then, more gratitude is in order. Would you both stay here with my ladies and stand outside the door when Dr. Fielding tends to them? I will take no risks.”
Both men nodded. Lord Nathaniel answered, “Of course, Your Grace.”
The duke looked with love at his family one more time before closing the door behind him.
Amanda and her mother sat together on a settee under the window. Lord Nathaniel found them a blanket from the trunk in the corner, and Lord Needley stoked the fire. Soon it was blazing cheerfully in the grate, and the group began to relax. Amanda rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, their hands clasped together in the duchess’s lap. They could still hear the sounds of police and footmen cleaning up and helping their guests be on their way.
Shouts and frenzied movement out on the street drew Amanda’s attention, and she looked out the window. An authoritative-looking man—probably the magistrate—and his men pushed some of the intruders into a strange box-like carriage lined with bars. A group of the prisoners resisted, and she was unable to look away as the police clubbed any resistors to near unconsciousness.
Amanda gasped as she saw familiar chestnut curls and a strong jawline. It can’t be. Charlie looked up, and their eyes met for a long moment. She brought her hands to her mouth in astonishment. He nodded as he pretended to tip a hat in her direction and then broke free, running off into the darkness. The night watchmen let him go, more concerned with the others who were still resisting.
Amanda turned toward her mother, who shook her head sadly. “I am sorry, my dear. We have both been greatly disappointed in our friends, it seems.”
Amanda felt the eyes of Lord Needley and Lord Nathaniel watching her closely. Numbness settled. She could think of nothing to say. But her mind raced. Every reason she could conceive for Charlie to be out on the street flashed through her brain. He could have been caught unawares. He was visiting some of her family’s servants. Not daring to face the most obvious, she rested her head again on her mother’s shoulder and closed her eyes.