Music and people spilled out of the governor’s palace. The party was in full swing when we arrived. If I could have figured out what to do with my hair, we might have been there on time. Up, down, ribbon, no ribbon. I didn’t know what I was doing, and Millie was of no help. The dress Elizabeth had given me was not as fancy as many other dresses with extra layers of lace and frills, but if I were dressed up more, I would have felt uncomfortable.
We went through the receiving line to greet Lieutenant Governor Robert Dinwiddie. He was a portly man of average height, with a powerful personality.
“Ah, Spencer, I did not realize you were married.” He attempted to sedate his Scottish accent as his voice pierced through the air. The excitement brought it out more than he had expected.
Henry bowed, and I gave a deep curtsy to Dinwiddie. “Your Excellency, I would like to introduce my betrothed Mistress Amelia Murray.” I shot Henry a look. I hadn’t agreed to be his wife, only that I would consider it. Two can play at that game, my lord.
“Is this the same Mistress Murray Colonel Washington spoke of? I heard all about the exploits with the French.” Dinwiddie turned to a man standing next to him and nodded. “You fought bravely, Mistress Murray. Welcome to my palace.”
I gave another curtsy. “Thank you, Your Excellency.” I gave a small bow of my head. “I am honored to be here.”
Henry escorted me to a quiet corner of the room. It was stifling in the packed room.
“How did I do? Was that right?” I looked behind me to see if Dinwiddie watched me and saw through my ruse. “Do you see why I need to learn protocol? I’m making this shit up as I go along.”
“Stop with the worries.” Henry brought my hand to his lips. “You handled yourself with beauty and grace.”
“I wanted to throw up,” I said with a forced smile, hoping no one could see the distress that was written in red paint across my face.
“Good thing you didn’t. I’m sure His Excellency would not appreciate having to change his shoes.”
We mingled with his neighbors, friends, and other gentry that were invited to the party. It was all exciting and overwhelming at the same time. I would not remember names, perhaps faces, but it felt as though I was trying to drink from a firehose.
The wine flowed like a rushing river. I was on my third or fourth glass—or was it my fifth?—trying to blend in with a group of women. Margaret Hamill was a young woman in her twenties, petite, with brown eyes and unknown hair color since she wore a powdered wig. She wore a sunflower yellow silk dress over her milky white skin. She was vivacious and the center of attention amongst the other women. I felt plain standing next to her, but she brought me into the folds of her group with open arms.
“Mistress Murray,” she said as she slid next me. “I hear a wedding is in your future to the very eligible Lord Henry. You must tell us how you snared him.” She gave a honey-soaked smile. “You might be the luckiest woman in Williamsburg.”
I blushed. “He is quite a catch. He might feel the same way about me.” I had no intention of these women thinking that I would self-deprecate. I looked over to where he stood in a new and clean uniform, with a group of men, including Colonel Washington. Henry looked dignified in his uniform. He met my eyes. I was caught staring at my beautiful future-husband. Nope, don’t think like that, Amelia. You haven’t said you’d marry him yet. The many days on the road turned his skin a golden tan. I blushed and gave a shy smile. He said something to the men, and within a few strides, he was standing by my side.
“My humblest apologies. Might I steal Mistress Murray from you, ladies?” They couldn’t say no to him. They curtsied as he whisked me away out to the garden. He left my glass of wine with one of the servants. I think I heard them giggle like schoolgirls as we flew out the back door.
The night air was cool and refreshed me. There were fire baskets illuminating the paths around the garden with puddles of light every few meters. “Thanks for rescuing me from the ladies. If I had to hear the singing of your praises anymore, I was going to fake being ill and collapse on the floor.”
He snorted a laugh. “Not that terrible, was it?”
“Apparently, I might have placed a spell on the most eligible bachelor in all of Virginia in order to get you to marry me.” I shook my head and laughed.
Frogs chirped and croaked songs to each other in the summer night. Maybe they were the ones spreading the gossip? An underground frog gossip circle. “News travels fast through the whispers of Williamsburg.” We continued walking through the garden and made our way near the back.
“Henry,” I stopped and looked up at him. “Are you sure you want to marry me and not one of the young women?” I looked back towards the house. “You realize that I will not give you children. I’m too old for that madness.”
He stopped and turned to look at me. He took my face in his hands, leaned down, and gave me a soft kiss on my lips. I lost my breath and my knees buckled. “If I wanted an insufferable brood mare, I would have already bedded one. I want you, Amelia Murray, and only you.”
“Yeah, well, that’s a good thing,” I said as I rubbed my fingers across the buttons on his waistcoat. “All I want is you, Henry Spencer.” He grabbed me around my waist, and we sunk into a deep kiss. It was completely disreputable to be making out in the garden and neither one of us cared.
His voice was deep and seductive, “Are you ready to leave?” He traced the edge of my gown across the top of my breasts. I gasped.
“Can we sneak out the back and avoid everyone?” I wanted to run back to the house with him and jump into his bed. I felt alive, tipsy from the wine, young, indestructible, and, above all, happy and in love. I was truly happy and in love with that man. Although, I wasn’t sure I was ready to admit it to myself or him.
We had walked around the side of the house and found Josiah, one of Henry’s men, with the carriage. It was a short distance from the house. We could have walked but had to arrive in a carriage for all the pomp and circumstance that was required of the gentry.
He helped me out of the carriage, into the house, and we started up the stairs. We could not keep our hands to ourselves. Candles lit the foyer and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he gave me a long, deep kiss. I melted into a puddle—a big messy puddle.
“Stay with me, in my bed,” He said as he fumbled with the pins on my gown, “tonight.”
“Give me a couple of minutes to freshen up.” Truth be told, I had to pee. Five—or was it six or seven—glasses of wine would do that to a person. “I’ll be right back.”
I stumbled towards my room. As I grasped the doorknob, I looked down and noticed a button. Or was it a coin? Where did this come from? Someone must have dropped it. I reached down to grab it, I couldn’t see what was on it, it was too dark in front of my room. Shadows cast along the corner. I would have to look at it next to a light. I opened the door and could smell the scent of burning cherry wood. A bright light emerged from the darkness of my room. Did Millie light a fire for me? I felt as though I was being pulled into the room. The lights swirled around me. I remembered this feeling. It was the same feeling I had when I had gone to Fort Ashby and slipped through time. The force of the pull was too great for me to resist. I could only call out to Henry, but my voice didn’t seem to make a sound over the swoosh of the wind. I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted to stay.
It all went dark.