Dear Diary,
I can’t believe it! Me’n Tom got caught behind the barn today by none other than my sister! She shrieked so loud - I think it’s ‘cause she’s never seen anybody kiss before. Course she ran and told Mama and Papa, and then I gotta lecture on acting responsible, and that I wouldn’t want to get pregnant before I was married. I don’t really care though. I think I’m going to marry Tom. I love him anyway, if I got pregnant, I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else…



“Amelia Anne! Get down here girl! Supper’s on the table!” Amy’s mother’s voice called from the kitchen directly below her, sounding impatient. Amy hurriedly shoved the tattered diary under her straw mattress and pushed her wispy red-gold curls that had escaped her braid behind her ear. She figured she’d better hurry; her mother had already called her three times, and used her full name.

“I’m here Mama!” She said, jumping the last two stairs and landing on the wooden floor with a thump.

“What took you so long? I’m hungry’n Papa won’t let us start until we’re all here, sit down! Sit down!” Her seven-year-old sister admonished her. “Were you kissin’ again?” She said slyly, elbowing Amy as she slid into her chair.

Amy’s fair skin flushed a soft pink. “No, I was doing nothing of the sort!” She tried to sound superior, but it came out more defensively and her sister dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Girls, stop bickering and eat,” Her mother reprimanded them, pouring stew into each of their bowls. Amy immediately began to eat, not minding the thinness of the broth or the stringiness of the meat. She had been eating the same for sixteen years and thought it tasted delicious.

“Amy, your mother and I need to talk to you.” Her father, James, spoke after the stew had filled everyone to satisfaction. He was a proud man, but the work of the farm had aged him and his face was lined and weathered. His dark hair had begun to gray at the temples though he was barely past forty-five years of age. He started to speak again, but Katie cut him off.

“Aw, Papa, do I have to listen? Can’t I go upstairs?” She complained. Katie looked exactly like their father, with dark hair and eyes, just as Amy looked like their mother with red-gold hair and blue eyes.

“Yes Katie, you do. If things work out, you’ll be doing the same thing when you’re sixteen.” James folded his hands in front of him on the table as Katie slumped in her chair, her small arms folded across her chest.

“What is she going to be doing? What am I doing? Papa?” Amy’s blue eyes went from her mother to her father, who looked nervous and decided respectively.

“Well Amy, your great uncle, Lord William has agreed to let you come live with him and his daughters and grand-daughters. He’s going to give you a dowry, and a good education. ” Her mother’s blue eyes flickered between her and James waiting for Amy’s reaction.

Katie sat up, suddenly interested and stared at Amy, whispering reverently, “Amy, you’re going to be a lady, you’re going to be rich…”

“I-I’m going to be a lady?” Amy stammered, astounded at the prospect. A lady meant getting to wear expensive clothing, and jewels, and no more farm-life. A lady meant she had a secure future. At the thought of her future, she paused, her smile wavering. “Will I ever get to come back?”

“Child, don’t be silly, you can come home anytime you like to visit,” Her mother said, laughing. Her father’s words sobered her face though.

“You must stay until you complete your education though. No buts,” He said firmly, his dark eyes on hers.

Amy nodded seriously, “I understand Papa.”

“You’re leaving in two days,” Her mother said, “So you’d better go pack, I expect it’ll take about a day to get there. Of course, they’ll provide you with new clothes and such when you arrive. ” Her mother sniffed, her eyes tearing up. “Oh, I hope you’ll be fine…”

Amy stood up and hugged her mother tightly. “Don’t worry Mama, I’ll come back as often as I can.”



…Oh my gosh! I’m going to be a lady! Oh, it sounds so wonderful! Silks and lace and parties and balls! I can’t wait until I get there! I never in a million years would have guessed this would happen. I’m so happy! I never knew I had a great uncle, I wonder what he’s like. I wonder if he’s old, he sounds like it. I wonder if there will be other girls there. I wonder so much I make myself laugh. I must start packing though. Tomorrow I have to say all my good-byes. Gosh, I don’t know what I’ll do if I never get to see Tom again. I’m going to miss him so much! I suddenly don’t want to go anymore – but I have to…I don’t know what to do. I know how much this means to my parent, for me to become something more than just a farm girl. I especially have to do this for Mama. I catch her sometimes, fingering the only silk dress she had from when she was little.

Maybe there’ll be some fairytale happening, and Tom’ll inherit some random relative’s fortune and I will marry him once he becomes rich. I’m sure I’ll be expected to marry a lord, or maybe a prince will fall in love with me at a ball, just like in Cinderella! And that prince will turn out to be Tom. I hear Katie on the stairs, I must say goodbye…



“Amy, don’t cry. . . ” Tom gently touched her fair cheek, looking down at her. “You’ll be okay, this is the greatest chance you’ll ever have, and you have to take it!” His hazel eyes were saddened, but he attempted not to let it show as he wiped her tears away with his thumb. He had spent the whole day with her, but she had only just started to cry.

“But Tom! I don’t want to leave anymore! At first it sounded great, like an exciting adventure, but now, oh, I don’t want to leave! I’ll miss everyone too much - I’ll miss you too much…” Her blue eyes found his before she turned her face into his shoulder from where she sat in the hayloft and cried. Tom wrapped his arms around her and rocked her slowly, whispering comforts to her.

Tom wouldn’t say what he wanted to so badly, that he wanted her to tell them all no, and to tell her to stay and marry him. But he wouldn’t say it. This was her big chance to make something of herself: to be more than just a farmer’s wife. He wouldn’t stop her from that. He wouldn’t let her stay.

“Amy, you’ll be fine, just think: one day you’ll be at a huge ball, dressed in the finest silks and jewels and there will be a great lord there, and he’ll fall head over heels in love with you and you with him. He’ll take you to the biggest house you ever saw and ask you to marry him, you’ll say yes, and you’ll live happily ever after. ” He tried to envision the thought himself, but instead of a rich lord, he saw only a horse boy, with dark hair and hazel eyes.

“Oh Tom, I do hope that will happen…” Amy leaned back, pulling her hand across her blotchy face to wipe away the tears. “It would be just like a fairytale…” Her eyes grew dreamy as she thought about it, leaning her head against Tom’s shoulder. He couldn’t help softly smiling at her change in attitude. She had always been a sucker for fairy tales.

There was a clattering in the yard beside the barn and Amy jumped. They both stood up to peer through a knothole in the boards of the barn wall.

Amy in took her breath rapidly at what she saw. “That’s them! That’s the carriage that taking me! Don’t let them take me Tom!” She turned, her hair fanning out behind her, her eyes wide and afraid. “Tom, I don’t want to go!” Her panicked voice trembled and she curled into his chest, wrapping her arms around him as if he would protect her.

“Amy, you have to go. They won’t wait forever for you. ” Tom said gently, hugging her tight. Slowly he pried her off his shirt and held her at an arm’s length, fondly picking the hay out of her hair. “Amy, you have to say good bye. . . ”

“I won’t!” She half-cried, pushing away his arms in sudden desperation. “I won’t say good bye! I’ll stay here and hide-”

“Amy?” Her father’s voice echoed off the walls of the floor below them.

Standing a foot away from him, Amy was shaking her head, her eyes bright with tears and begging Tom not to give her away. “I won’t go…” She whispered a last time, trying to make herself believe it.

“She’s up here, Master Black!” Tom called back, seeing that Amy wasn’t going to give them away. Amy stared at him, her eyes awash of a million different emotions.

“Get her down here! They aren’t going to wait much longer!” He called back, and they heard his boots echo out of the barn.

“Did you hear that? Did you? They won’t wait much longer, maybe they’ll leave without me!” Amy trembled as he reached out to hold her.

“Amy, you’re going if I have to haul you into that carriage myself.” Tom whispered fiercely in her ear, and then softly, he said, “Good bye Amy Anne.” Had he not been holding her up, he was sure she would have fallen. He felt the burn of tears in his own eyes as she looked at him. “Say good bye Amy, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” he said hoarsely.

“Good bye, Thomas O’Hare,” the tears started down her cheeks again, and her face went slack with helplessness as he led her down the ladder and out into the late sunshine.

A large black carriage was parked there, the black suited driver held the reins of a pair of sleek magnificent horses. He jumped down as they appeared and put her bag into the carriage.

Amy turned to her family standing beside the carriage, and nearly ran to them, hugging them tight and whispering farewells. Then she turned, straightening her dress and gazed at the black carriage. A voice from the interior called out, “Let’s go, we haven’t got all day!”

Amy bit her lip, and turned again, Tom’s arms nearly taking the breath from her as he gave her a last hug. Resolutely, he kissed her and whispered, “Go make something of yourself…” Amy glanced up at him, a touch surprised at the tears she saw in his eyes. He had always been the strong one. “I love you, Amelia Anne.” He said softly.

She reached up and kissed him a last time, as if she didn’t want it to end, and reluctantly broke away whispering, “Good bye Tom…” She turned and hurried into the carriage, ignoring the driver who offered her a hand in. He gently shut the door and she was nearly thrown into her seat as the horses set off at a smart trot.

She glanced back only once, to see a lone figure standing and watching the carriage depart.

“Was that your lover?” a voice asked curiously.

Startled, Amy turned. She hadn’t realized there had been another person in the carriage. It was a young woman, not too much older than she was. She had light brown hair tied neatly into a bun and level brown eyes.

“I guess…” Amy said slowly, biting her lip to keep from crying again.

The young woman fished out a handkerchief from a small purse she held in her lap. “Here, take this. I’m Kathryn by the way. You’re Amelia, right?” She asked in a self-assured way.

Amy slowly nodded again, wiping her eyes. She glanced longingly out as they passed a bend, hoping for one last glimpse of her home, but the trees were too thick and they were moving too fast.




Last night I waved goodbye, now it seems years,
I’m back in the city, and nothing seems clear,
But thoughts of me, holding you, bringing us near.
But tell me, when will our eyes meet,
When can I touch you,
When will this wrong you’re in end,
And when will I hold you again. *




Tom gave a quick nod to Amy’s parents before leaving, his steps starting out as a walk, and then breaking into a desperate run as he went back to his house He slammed open the door with a curse, rubbing at his face with one of his hands. He kicked a stool, knocking it spinning off across the floor in his pained anger.

“Son, I need to talk to you.” His father’s voice emerged from the other room, raising an eyebrow at Tom’s disheveled appearance. “Sit down, please.” He gestured toward the table.

Tom jerked out a chair, his elbows hitting the table with a thud and his hands gripping his hair. “What?” He spat out, his hazel eyes accusing his father.

His father only raised his hands defensively. “I’m sorry she left as well, but don’t get mad at me. I did not do a thing. ”

Tom sighed, trying to let the emotion go. Heavily, he said, “Sorry, what did you want?”

“I’ve found a wife for you. Her parents have agreed as well-”

“What? After all this happens, and you just, find one, like that? Why are you telling me this now? I don’t want a wife!” He nearly shouted, pushing back his chair and standing forcefully. He didn’t bother to state the fact that the only person he had planned on marrying had just left. His hazel eyes were awash of disbelief and pain.

His father stayed calm, making tom all the angrier. “Daisy Thatcher. Her parents have agreed that you two will be wed-”

“I will not marry that, that, cow!” He shouted, raking back his hair his eyes staring at his father incredulously. “Never in a million years would I ever wed her!” He stepped away from the table and stalked into the other room and up the stairs, still shouting. “Never!”

“You will son, whether you like it or not.” His father’s voice followed him. “You’re eighteen, its time you were married and seeing as you haven’t found anybody, I’ve picked for you.”

“I found somebody; it’s not my fault she left! I’d rather die a bachelor now than marry that damn girl! I’ll die alone!” His door thudded back into its frame as he shoved it shut. He fell backwards on his bed, staring at the ceiling helplessly.

“As long as you live under my roof boy, you will do as I say!” His father rarely ever got mad, but his voice grew loud from where he stood at the bottom of the stairs and shouted at the shut door.

Tom’s fists clenched at his sides and he stood up, opening the door. “Then maybe I don’t want to live under your damned roof anymore!” He turned staring hopelessly at his room when something caught his eye: a patched canvas bag. Determinedly he began stuffing things into it. Once he finished, he hefted it over his shoulder and stormed down the stairs and out the door, not giving his father a second glance.

Breathing heavily, he began walking, and then running, the bag slapping his back with every step. Finally, his breath ragged, he stopped underneath a tree and fell against it, his face turned toward the sky: a perfect, forget-me-not blue.

After catching his breath, he stared back at the small village in the distance. Its rooftops just showed over the trees. Sighing, he readjusted the pack on his back and began to walk down the road, following the ruts made from countless wagons. He didn’t look back.




We had the right love
At the wrong time
Guess I always knew inside
I wouldn't have you for a long time

Those dreams of yours
Are shining on distant shores
And if they're calling you away
I have no right to make you stay*




Dear Diary,
The first night was completely horrible! I want to cry just to think about it. When I got there, there was this lady named Miss Scarlet. She’s terribly strict and horrible! She told me I wasn’t allowed to wear my dress to dinner and that I had to borrow one from somebody until my dresses have been made. Dinner was even worse. Every time I moved, she scolded me for something another. She refuses to let anyone call me Amy. She insists that it is ‘only proper’ that I am called by my real name. What’s so wrong with Amy? I just don’t get it…

The only thing I can say for myself is that I saved my crying for when we were allowed to go to bed. So that’s what I’m doing now, crying as quietly as I can and writing by the moonlight that comes from my window. I’m so glad we got our own rooms. We have real mattresses too, stuffed with feathers.

I miss Tom so much; I can’t stop thinking about him at all. Miss Scarlet even got onto me for having a dreamy look when I was thinking about him at dinner. I can’t help it though. If only he were here with me. He always makes sense, and knows what to say to cheer me up. I wonder what he’s doing right now. Probably sleeping since he has to get up early to feed the horses. We have to get up early here too, but not as early as at home. I wonder why, it doesn’t seem that there’s much to do unless we’re going to study at six in the morning. Well, since it’s so late, I guess I need my sleep. I’m tired. Good night.



“Up! Now!” An obnoxiously loud rapping on her door followed the loud voice.

Groaning, Amelia rolled over, blearily looking out the window. The pale light left most of the yards in shadow, and was hardly bright enough to light her room. Rubbing her eyes, she glared at the door. It wasn’t that it was early; she usually got up earlier than this to help with chores, but the day before had been trying and she found herself exhausted.

The pounding continued. “Are you up yet?” The voice called through the door impatiently again.

“Yes, alright, I’m up!” Amelia rolled her eyes in the direction of the door.

“Good. I’m going to send Kathryn in to help you. She’ll have a dress for you and show you where the bath is. ” Amelia could hear the lady’s footsteps moving on and the pounding on the door to the room next to hers.

She rubbed her face, and fell back on her bed yawning. A soft tapping at her door made her look up, but the person on the other side didn’t wait for her to answer it. It was Kathryn who pushed the door open. A wide-awake and stubbornly cheerful Kathryn.

“Come on sleepy head, we want to get to the bath houses early, unless you don’t care if you get hot water,” Smiling, she drew Amelia away from her bed and wrapped a dressing gown around her. She pushed her out the door and down the hall.

The bathing room was a short walk down the corridor and in a large windowless room. Huge copper tubs had been set up along the walls, and there were shelves filled with towels and soaps.

“I already brought your dress in, the seamstress was up all night making it, but Miss Scarlet said you weren’t allowed to wear any of your old things.” Determinedly, she filled two of the tubs and stripped Amelia before pushing her in and the sliding in the other one with a sigh.

Amelia sighed as the warmth covered her. She had never really had a hot bath before, of course she had tried, heating kettles of water on the fire, but they didn’t stay hot long enough. Her hair floated across the water like copper rivers and she twirled one in her finger.

“Here, you’ll need to wash your hair, and there’s a bar of soap for you too.” Kathryn pointed toward the low table that was set at the same height as the tubs.

Amelia held her breath and then sank beneath the water, scrubbing her hair to get it wet and resurfacing to shampoo it. She was about to dunk her head below again, when Kathryn stopped her.

“Wait! Don’t do it like that, watch. ” Amelia paused, watching Kathryn as she lathered her own hair and then leaned back over the tub’s edge and took a small basin from the table between them. Dipping it in her tub, she then poured it on her dark hair. The shampoo flowed out of it easily and she repeated the procedure until it was all gone. The water that spilled onto the floor went down a drain in one corner of the room.

Amelia nodded, and tried to do her own hair, but didn’t achieve much. Exasperated, Kathryn got out of her tub and did it for her, slicking her hair down with her hands to make sure it all came out.

“Now, here.” She shoved two towels in her direction while wrapping herself in one. The other she wrapped around her hair, squeezing it to get the water out of it. Amelia did her best to mimic the actions.

They put their shifts on after drying, and then a corset. Amelia had never worn one before and kept wrinkling her nose at its uncomfortable stiffness. She had always been thin, and didn’t see a reason for wearing one. Voicing this complaint, Kathryn just laughed.

“Oh, everyone has to wear them. You’ll get used to them in time, we all do, here, tie mine. ” Amelia did so, and then Kathryn did their hair, tying them into strict buns. Then came makeup, and last of all the dress.

Amelia fingered the material of her dress reverently. It was of ordinary cotton, but it had miniscule designs embroidered into the bottom and bosom, and a bit of lace at the sleeves. It was a soft blue and the embroidery was white and silver. Amelia couldn’t help but trace her fingers over the finery again and again.

Once she had squirmed into it, Kathryn appraised her with an approving eye. “You’ll do, at least for today until they get a better dress made.” And she swept from the room in her own, doe-brown dress leaving Amelia scurrying after her.

“A better dress?” She half-exclaimed, “But this one is beautiful!” She stared at Amelia as she followed her back into her room.

“Don’t be silly, now its time for makeup, sit down.” She gestured toward a chair and Amelia sat down in it.

They continued to do trivial things for the next hour until Amelia was thoroughly tired of it and it wasn’t until nearly eight o’clock that Kathryn ushered her into the dining room where two other girls were settling themselves at the table.

A servant appeared to pull back her chair, and when Amelia said, “Thank you,” the servant glanced at her and then hurried off as if scared.

Settling her skirts around her, she looked to Kathryn and whispered, “What was that all about?”

Kathryn stole a look around, and then replied quickly, “We’re not supposed to talk to servants, it lowers our statue in the eyes of other. It shows our…closeness to them. ” Abruptly she shut up and sat attentively as Miss Scarlet strode into the room resplendent in a dove-gray dress with navy embroidered flowers about the hem and sleeves.

“Good morning girls,” She nodded slightly to them as a servant helped settle her in her chair and placed the napkin in her lap. The servant curtsied before disappearing beyond a door. More maids came out of the door bearing trays of food and drink. “You look much better today Amelia,” She said down the table toward her.

Amelia stuttered in slight shock at being spoken to. “Uh, thank you Miss Scarlet.”

“Don’t stutter Amelia, you sound nervous and naïve.” Miss Scarlet replied off handedly, turning to another girl to talk without waiting for a response. Amelia bit her lip and attempted to eat by following what Kathryn was doing, using the same silverware and holding it in the same positions.

After the nervous breakfast where she didn’t eat much, they were filing out to go to their classes when Miss Scarlet paused and drew her aside. “Amelia, Lord William would like to talk to you, follow me.”

She led her down a few hallways, and up stairs and down another hallway until Amelia was thoroughly confused and finally stopped at a door and knocked three times on it. “Now, keep your back straight, shoulders back, try at least to act like a lady. I’ll have someone sent to fetch you when you are done. ” And she briskly walked away, her slippers making little noise on the stone floors.

“Come in please,” the voice from within the room called, and swallowing, Amelia turned the ornate handle of the door, squared her shoulders, and opened it.

Whatever she had been imagining, it hadn’t been this. The room was rather an office, lit with lamps along the wall and another on the desk. Despite the lighting, the room had a rather dark and heavy feel about it, with dark furniture and wooded panels on the wall.

“Amelia, I presume?” The man behind the desk startled her from her observations and she attempted to fall into a curtsy, but wobbled and came back up halfway.

“Yes, Lord William,” she said softly, daring a glance at him. He wasn’t a thin man by any means; he had a round belly, but a naturally muscular physique. It was a rather interesting combination, like a fit man gone to seed. He had thick white hair that was thinning at the top, and numerous wrinkles that dropped his jaw line, which at one point had most likely been firm and commanding.

“Please, sit down dear,” He stood and motioned a hand toward the chair in front of his desk. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” His blue eyes twinkled and he chuckled at his own joke, but Amelia only swallowed as she sat down nervously.

“Do you know why you are here?” He asked her, resting his chin on his clasped hands and studying her.

Shifting in her chair, she hesitantly said, “To get an education?”

He nodded, “Among other things. Do you know how this came about?” he asked her next, and when she shook her head, he took a breath and said, “I wish you to know, just as we’ve told all the girls in here. Most of them conclude their parents didn’t want them anymore and paid Miss Scarlet to give them an education. This is usually very untrue.” Amelia nodded; she hadn’t once thought her parents were trying to get rid of her.

“So as with all the girls, it is my duty to tell you how your name came to be on the roster for this school, and a little of its history.” He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and began.

“Scarlet, if you didn’t know is my daughter, which would make her your mother’s cousin. Until recently, we hadn’t been able to keep into much contact as she lived far across the country and most letters we tried to send were lost, or got to us months after being sent. A few months ago however, Scarlet came to me directly. Evidently, she taught at a school for ladies, teaching etiquette and behavior and such stuff that I am not all that familiar with. This school, forgive me for not remembering the name of it, disbanded after its sponsor died, leaving all the young women and its teachers to fend for themselves. As Scarlet was my only child, she came to me.

After learning about what happened to the school, I offered to let her continue teaching at this house. What did I need with such a huge house? I asked myself. And so she began to teach her, under the circumstances that there wouldn’t be too many young ladies in the house at once. Probably six or seven is the most that have ever been here. But Scarlet brought in a few of her fellow teachers and they made quite a nice school and left me to my business and all went well. Then Scarlet learned of your mother, living not too far away on your farm. ” He paused, looking directly at her. “ I must say, she did talk of Rose quite fondly. You’ve heard of your mother’s parents right?”

Amelia nodded slightly. She knew her grandparents had been rich people, but upon their death had not given her mother parents a penny of it. Instead, they had given it all to her brother – this man – instead. She had never really understood why, but her parents had never seemed too concerned about it.

“Well, once she learned that they had received none of the inheritance and that it was all given to me, she came to me, determined that I give you and your sister an education and some of the inheritance. Of course, it was a completely reasonable and heartfelt plea to me. Giving a portion of my lands to the two of you wouldn’t trouble me any, in fact it would help. Seeing as Scarlet didn’t want the land, she merely wished for enough room to continue her school-” He was cut off by a bout of coughing, and Amelia half-rose, concerned and wanting to help him. He waved a hand, clearing his throat after several minutes. His voice was a bit hoarse as he continued. “Never mind me, just getting old. Where was I? Oh, yes, Scarlet didn’t want these extensive lands to maintain and keep up with, so I am going to give bits of them to you and your sister as dowry’s when you get married. It is a bit old fashioned, but sometimes, to impress these lords whose families go back countless generations, you have to offer them something other than just yourself. ” He smiled at her, “Did that help at all in explaining why you were here?”

Amelia nodded, and then bit her lip, wanting to ask something, but not sure if she should.

Lord William looked at her kindly, “I told you already I don’t bite, out with your question, I can see it there in your eyes.” He beckoned her, and she took a deep breath.

“Well, M’Lord-” She was cut off by him then.

“Don’t call me m’lord. I hate the title. I’d be a tavern bum if I could. ” He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but give a small smile back.

“Well, Uncle,” He seemed to accept this and so she plowed on. “You say Miss Scarlet liked my mother, and it seems they were friends, but she doesn’t seem to like me very much, every time I turn around, she criticizes me, or yells at me for something. Do you know why she doesn’t like me?” She asked, trying not to rush her voice too much.

Lord William leaned back in his well-padded chair and sighed. “To tell you the truth Amelia, I don’t really know. If you’d like my opinion, it is just how she teaches. Some teachers are kind, others are strict, and she’s more of a strict teacher. ” He shrugged.

“Oh…” was all Amelia could think of to say. It seemed a valid enough conclusion at any rate.

Lord William suddenly rose, “I daresay I’ve taken enough of your time, and I believe I just heard someone outside the door.” He came around the desk and offered her his arm. She took it hesitantly and he led her toward the door.

He pulled it open and Kathryn jumped as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t have. She hurried to give a quick curtsy, balancing the pile of letters in her hands. “Sorry, Uncle, I didn’t realize you were coming.” Despite her formal language, she didn’t seem too disturbed that she had been caught slacking. She even smiled as Amelia came out into the hall.

Lord William smiled at her, and laughed softly. “You know I don’t care about those formality things, dear. Here’s Amelia, now you two hurry back to class before Scarlet catches you being idle. ” He grinned at them quite boyishly and disappeared back within his study.

Kathryn began walking down the hall, “So did you like him? Everyone seems to like Uncle. ” She gave a sidelong glance at Amelia.

“He seems nice,” was all she committed to, when something Kathryn said struck her as odd. “He’s your uncle?” She asked curiously.

Kathryn laughed, “No, he tells everyone to call him Uncle though – why, is he your uncle?” Her brown eyes turned on Amelia as they walked.

“Well, yeah. My great uncle,” She replied as a loud voice cut them off.

“Kathryn? Come with me please. ” Miss Scarlet appeared from around the corner and stood there waiting ominously.

Kathryn swallowed, “The classroom is just around the corner, two doors down on the left, just knock and someone will come and open the door for you.” Then she raised her voice, “Coming Miss Scarlet.” Kathryn disappeared around a corner, still carrying the stack of letters in her arms.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, Amelia found the door Kathryn talked about and knocked softly upon it. A short, portly man with a severely pointed goatee quickly opened it. “Yes? New student? Excellent. Please, come in.” He gave a short bow and stepped back to allow her into a room with little decoration except for eight tables and shelves at the back.

He motioned her toward a desk in the front row and handed her a thin sheaf of paper and a booklet. “Writing and Language, Miss Amelia. I trust you know your letters?” He seemed to speak in all short sentences.

Amelia nodded, and took then pen he gave her. “Today, we’re letter writing.”



Dear Diary, This week was a little better than the first night. I met Uncle William the other day and he seemed like a nice enough man. He was much nicer than anybody else I know here. He told me about my grandparents. He told me more than Mama ever did. I wonder why Mama didn’t get any of the inheritance. It doesn’t really bother me, since I’m going to get some of it anyway, but I’d still like to know.

Kathryn’s nice enough I guess, but she very confident and prying all the time and sometimes I just want to tell her to shut up. The other to girls, Maryanne and Elizabeth are ok. I didn’t really talk to them very much, and they didn’t seem like they wanted to talk to me, so we kind of avoided each other. I’m beginning to miss home dreadfully, even Katie and her complaining that I’m never on time for dinner. I even miss my hay mattress. These feather ones are nice enough, but a little too soft for me.

Lessons take up much of the day, but they aren’t too hard and some of them are fun. Lord Allen I think is my favorite teacher. He actually has a sense of humor and doesn’t mind when we joke a little in class. It was funny the other day when Miss Scarlet came into our room while he was teaching and how strict he became. We hadn’t been doing anything bad, but Miss Scarlet likes order more than anything in the world. My speech and posture have already gotten better, am I sure of. We have etiquette classes twice a day, one for speech and the other for body language. I never realized how much body language effects things! At the rate I’m learning, I will be able to snare a man at our first dance, which is in less than a month! I’m so excited. Miss Scarlet had us look at dress material, and get our measurements for it today so the maids could make our dresses. The ball is going to be at a man named Robert Copenhagen’s house. He sounds rich. It’s getting late though, so I have to go to sleep. I still miss Tom more than anything, I wish he would write to me, I sent a letter to him the other day, I hope he got it. Well, good night.




Tom wasn’t sure where he was going as his steps pounded out the road. He had followed it for a day, and was about to give up hope at finding anywhere to stay, when a large building came into view. He stopped at the entrance to the drive and slowly made his way up it, staring at the great manor house.

He turned as uneven horse hooves resounded behind him slowly, and saw a boy leading a sleek, hot-blooded horse his way, looking at him curiously. The horse seemed to be favoring one of its legs. “Hey, what’re you doing? Who’re you?” The boy asked, drawing near to him. He was near his own age, maybe a couple years younger, he had black hair and startling light gray eyes.

“I’m Tom.” A sudden inspiration hit him. “You need work here?”

The boy grinned suddenly, “Sure do, you good with horses? Follow me this way, wouldn’t be good if the Lord caught you on his drive. ”

Tom obediently followed the kid down a shaded path, which led into a stable yard. “Yeah, I know horses.” Tom couldn’t believe his luck. A tall man hurried over to them, dismissing Tom at first and speaking to the boy.

“How’d he go?” He asked, a little worried.

“He started limping on the way back. He didn’t want to go slow when we started, but once he started limping, I think he found out himself he’s hurt. ” The boy looked fondly at the stallion he was holding. Tom looked down and noticed the bandage that went from halfway down the hock to the horse’s hoof.

The tall man looked at the large horse thoughtfully, and then reached out a hand to touch his muzzle affectionately. “Well, we’ll just have to keep him in some more, Copenhagen won’t like it, but the horse is still too hurt.” He suddenly turned to Tom. “Who’re you?”

Tom blinked, looking at the man. “Tom-Thomas O’Hare, sir.” He answered.

The boy took over. “He said he needs a job and he’s good with horses. I told him to come so you can give him a job, sir. ” He said surely, his gray eyes on the man.

The tall man chuckled and stuck out a hand. “I’m Marty. I can’t say we don’t need help. If you want, we can take you on, trial period this week. Where you from Tom?” He asked.

Tom nodded, surprised and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir. I’m from Ferndale. ”

Marty nodded, pushing his brown hair away from his face. “I’ve been there a few times. Nice little town. Just stick with Jonas here for a few days, get the lay. I don’t think you’ll have a problem though. I have to go; horses don’t like to have their supper kept waiting. ” He departed with a smile and disappeared into the nearest barn.

“See, piece of cake, Marty’s a good man.” The young man said, pulling the stallion forward into a different barn than Marty had gone.

Tom gaped at the interior of the barn. Each horse had its own lacquered name-plaque and box stall, complete with racks outside with saddle, blanket and bridle hanging on them. Each of the horse was a magnificent specimen of the equine race.

Jonas led them three stalls down, opened the stall, and led the liver stallion into it, turning him before unclipping the lead and shutting the stall. “This is Charger. He’s Copenhagen’s favorite hunter. Last week he stepped on a stone though. Cut right through his hoof. Every time he walks on it, it seems to split open again. Don’t know what to do bout it.” Jonas said matter-of-factly, reaching in the bin outside the stall and pulling out a length of clean bandage. He disappeared inside the stall again. “Copenhagen won’t call a vet either, says it’s just a scratch and it’ll heal.” Jonas snorted in dismay at the man’s concern and began unwrapping the stallion’s leg.

Tom winced at the site of it. Obviously, the stallion had done more than just step on a stone. The bottom of his leg was all cuts and scrapes. “Did you try gluing it together?” He asked, leaning on the bars to watch the boy work. He was good with horses, quick and efficient. The stallion barely had time to shift before Jonas had pulled his leg up again.

Jonas nodded, “The glue just came off when he walked, and you can’t keep a stallion cross-tied like you can a mare, he’d just go mad.” Soon, he had the clean wrap on and emerged from the stall again.

“Did you try putting padding under his hoof? It might stop so much pressure on the crack and let it heal when he walks. ” Tom suggested, his eyes still on the stallion that was nosing at the straw covering the bottom of the stall.

Jonas paused in his puttering in the bin and rose, his eyes alight. “That’s an idea. What would you put underneath it though?”

Tom shrugged, “A sponge, even just rags might work.” He turned to face Jonas, who was now rummaging through the bucket with urgency, finally emerging with a folded rag about three inches thick.

“Like this?” He asked, opening the stall back up. Tom nodded. “Come in here and help me put this on, shut the door behind you, he’ll get out if you give him the chance.”

Tom squeezed in beside Jonas and the horse, and held the stallion’s leg up while Jonas expertly wrapped the padding underneath the horse’s hoof. Straightening back up, he eyed his job. “It might make him unbalanced, but if it works, he’ll balance himself back out.”

He helped Jonas feed the rest of the stallions and then followed him to a small hallway just inside the manor house. Its entrance was hidden behind a hanging tapestry, and it was obviously a servant’s hall.

“Throw your stuff in here, you’ll have to bunk with me until your trial is over and Marty can get you a key to your own room.” Jonas said while unlocking a door to reveal a plain room with nothing more than a bed and chest in it. Tom did as he was told, and Jonas locked the room up again and continued down the hall. At the end, it dived perpendicularly, and Jonas paused, pointing. “That way leads to the baths, and that way, to the kitchen. We’re only allowed to use the baths after nine and before six. Which would you rather do, ear or bathe?” Jonas turned, inquiringly.

Tom shrugged, feeling what seemed a year’s worth of grime on him from his walk down the dusty road. “Bathe.” He decided.

Jonas grinned. “Good choice. They won’t let us in the kitchens dirty anyway.”

It wasn’t until later that night, when Tom was in a make shift pallet on the floor that he thought of Amy. Sighing, he rolled onto his back, pillowing his hands behind his head. He didn’t fall asleep for another hour or so, his mind too busy with thinking.




When life is empty, with no tomorrow,
And loneliness starts to call
Baby don’t worry, forget your sorrow,
Cause love’s going to conquer it all.+




He awoke from his restless sleep before the sun had come up, and at first wondered where he was, but then, glancing around and seeing Jonas across the room, he remembered. Sighing, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He shook his head at his own folly. After living with his father, he’d never be able to sleep in again.

Falling back on his back, he made a thumping sound on the wooden planks of floor. Jonas mumbled something, but only rolled over and continued to sleep. Sighing heavily, Tom waited for him to awake.

Shoving boots onto his feet not an hour later, he picked at his clothes with a doubtful hand. The dark brown livery of the stable boys seemed practical enough, but they had gone as far as to press it with an iron. Shrugging, he followed the silent Jonas into the kitchen, and they grabbed rolls and juice from the buffet style counter that served as a servant’s breakfast and then went to a table to eat them.

Several boys joined them, most of them younger than Tom, but mature past their age. They joked until Marty arrived and after he had eaten, all followed him to the barn. As Jonas explained to him, Marty was the only one with the keys to the barns, and he was the first to open them, and the last to leave them.

They hadn’t gotten too far into feeding the many horses when Marty’s voice called for him down the aisle. Tossing the rest of the bucket’s contents into the horse’s manger, he followed the voice until he found him in the yard, in the early morning shade of an ancient maple tree. There was another man with him.

The man was about the same height as Tom, with blonde haired, green-eyed good looks. He couldn’t have been much older than fifty, as there was a touch of gray in his golden locks. He had a hawk-ish look, and proud eyes. He examined Tom from head to toe as Tom approached and gave a short bow uncertainly for the man as Marty’s gesture.

“I hear you want to work for me?” The man said, getting directly down to business.

Tom nodded, “Yes, sir, I would.” He didn’t say anything more than that for fear of saying too much.

“Hmph...” The man continued to make Tom uncomfortable by studying him. Shifting, Tom kept his eyes downward.

Finally, the man turned toward Marty, “You say we need stable help?” Marty nodded. “Alright then. This boy’ll be on same pay as the others. You might teach him to drive; his looks are decent enough to not embarrass me.” Rapidly he turned, obviously dismissing them and disappeared within the manor house again.

Marty let out a breath. “Well, you passed. I’ll get you your key tonight. I suppose that if he wants you driving, I’d better start teaching you as well. Not many pass his ‘appearance exam’, you should be lucky - drivers get a bonus for trips. Go on and finish feeding the horses, I’ll come get you later to start teaching you.” Marty clapped him on the shoulder and left him standing there a bit dumbstruck. Shaking his head to himself, he found his way back into the barn to finish feeding.




Dear Diary, We tried on our dresses for the last time this morning. The party is tonight! I’m so jittery. I wonder if anybody there will like me. Miss Scarlet has arranged for different lords to accompany us there. I’m going with Lord Copenhagen III. Sounds a bit stuck up to me. Mr. High-and-Mighty-the-Host’s-son himself. I just hope he’s as nice as Miss Scarlet says he is – though that’s not much comfort. Miss Scarlet is as obnoxious as ever, though I’ve gotten used to her complaining about me mostly now. I’ve learned to dance and eat and be social, all with Ladies’ etiquette by now. According to Miss Scarlet, I’ll never be good at it, but I don’t really care. I’m good enough for me, and evidently good enough to go to the ball.

I’ve now sent Tom four letters, and he hasn’t returned even one. I’m scared that he’s married, or doesn’t care about me anymore. I know we’ll never get married, but I’d still like him as a friend. I’m going to send him more though; I’m hoping that the letters I sent got lost in the mail, even though it is only a day’s ride back to Ferndale. I’ve written my family too, but they haven’t responded either. Miss Scarlet promised that we could go visit them during the Holiday. But that’s still months away. I can’t believe I’ve already been here for a month, it feels like I’ve been here years.

Lunch is about to start, so I need to go fix myself up in hopes that Miss Scarlet won’t yell at me for my appearance. Good-bye.



“Gosh, Kathryn, aren’t you excited?” Amelia exclaimed, sinking lower in the steaming tub. She found it quite odd to be bathing in the middle of the afternoon, but the dance was at sundown and they had an hour’s ride to get there.

Kathryn smiled back at her nervously, “I’m too nervous to be excited. I wouldn’t put it past Miss Scarlet to put me with an old man, and I’ve never heard of a Lord Marcos Velasquez before, have you?”

Amelia shook her head, fingering one of the rose petals floating on the surface of the water in hopes to settle a sweet perfume in her skin. “I bet he’s foreign.” She said with conviction.

“Easy for you not to care,” She said, in mock offense. “You’re going with the host!”

Amelia laughed nervously, “Not the host, the host’s son.” She then glanced over at Kathryn, “You’re still going to do my hair right?”

Kathryn laughed, “Of course, no offense, but I wouldn’t want you doing your hair for a party like this.” Amelia didn’t respond, as she had sunk beneath the water to save herself from snapping something smart back at Kathryn.

An hour later, they were both half-dressed, and had their hair done up. They only had thirty minutes before they were due to leave. Amelia was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup when a servant knocked softly on their door, and entered, carrying two silk wrapped hangers.

She made a small curtsy, “Your dresses, Ladies.”

Amelia put down the brush she had been using and went to get hers. She smiled as she pulled out the familiar contents.

Her dress was a deep dark-yet-bright blue, with loosely slitted sleeves and touches of white at the hems. Her red gold curls stood out vividly against the material, and the blue matched her eyes nearly perfect. She gently slipped into it, and Kathryn came to do up the laces.

“Beautiful.” She proclaimed. “Now help me with mine.” Kathryn’s dress was a pale, summer green, with intricate darker green designs around the skirt and sleeves. It went quite well with her chestnut hair and brown eyes.

They both slipped on their slippers and had a last minute look into the mirror before exiting the room. They walked quickly to the front hall where Maryanne and Elizabeth joined them. Maryanne wore a deep crimson color that made her dark eyes and hair flash auburn in the light. Elizabeth wore a deep lilac color that complimented her fair looks.

They could hear heels clicking in the hallway, and all four of them turned to look as Miss Scarlet strode up to them, surveying them with a critical eye.

“Elizabeth, your partner is waiting just outside the door, let’s go.” She said in her brisk fashion. “None of you girls let me down now.” Turning her heel, she led Elizabeth around the corner and to the door. Though they strained to hear something, or any sound at all, they were rewarded with only the door thudding shut and Miss Scarlet reappearing.

“Kathryn dear, you’re next.” Kathryn gave Amelia a wilting look before straightening herself and walking forward to meet the door.

A foreign voice reached their ears before the door shut again. Amelia turned to Maryanne, a nervous smile flitting at her lips. “Are you nervous?”

Maryanne parted her painted lips to reply and promptly shut them again as Miss Scarlet reappeared. “Amelia, your turn.”

Amelia gave a fleeting look to Maryanne who responded with a smile. She quickly followed Miss Scarlet down the hall, who was voicing reminders of how to behave and what to do. Amelia listened with half an ear, her heart racing as Miss Scarlet opened the heavy door.

“Amelia, this is Lord Robert Copenhagen III, Lord Copenhagen, this is Amelia,” Miss Scarlet made the quick introductions, which fell on Amelia’s deaf ears. She was too busy staring.

Miss Scarlet quickly cleared her throat, and Amelia blinked and remembered herself. Hastily, she bent in an appropriate curtsy, ducking her head as she murmured, “Please to meet you, Lord Copenhagen.”

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Amelia,” He offered her a hand, which she took as he led her to the carriage waiting at the bottom of the steps in the drive.

The driver jumped down, and held the door open for them as the approached. Amelia paused to take the hand he offered her to help get in, and gave a small gasp that mirrored the driver’s.

“Amy?” He mouthed, his eyes flickering back toward Lord Copenhagen.

“Tom?” She whispered as she stared incredulously at him, “Oh my gosh, Tom!” She suddenly had the urge to throw her arms around him, but Lord Copenhagen cleared his throat.

“Is something the matter?”

Amelia glanced back at him, swiftly clearing her throat and swallowing what she had been about to say. “No, everything’s fine.” She took Tom’s hand and stepped into the carriage, squeezing his hand slightly before letting go.

She settled her skirts around her as Lord Copenhagen eased back in the seat across from her. Tom shut the door, and they sat in an uncomfortable silence as the carriage jerked forward and then settled into a steady pace.

She stared at Lord Copenhagen’s profile as he looked out the window, thinking she had never seen a more beautiful man.

His sandy hair swept away from his face casually, revealing startling green eyes. He had a straight nose, sensitive lips and a firm jaw line. His frame strong and well built and he had an obviously confident air from the way he acted. He suddenly turned to face her, and gave her a smile that made her melt.

“So how long have you lived at Lord Montgomery’s manor?” He asked her, studying her face as he waited for an answer.

She couldn’t help but notice that even though they were making small talk, he seemed genuinely interested in her answer.

“Oh, just a little over a month,” She replied, a bit shyly. She hadn’t figured she’d be shy, but then again, neither did she think that she would have been in the presence of someone as beautiful as a Greek God.

“Do you ever get to go back and visit your family?” He asked, continuing to make polite conversation.

“We haven’t been able to yet, but I plan on going during the Holidays, I already miss them a lot,” She informed him, and he gave another smile.

“This is the first time I’ve been home in a year,” He raised his eyebrows, “I’m actually on my way home right now.”

“Wow...” Amelia said softly. She couldn’t imagine being away from her family that long. “Don’t you miss them?”

“Him, you mean? My mother died when I was young, and I never had any brothers or sisters.” He looked thoughtfully out the window again for a moment before saying, “I guess I do. We’re not that close, my father and me.”

“I’m sorry,” She sympathized with him.




Tom sighed as he jumped down from the driver’s seat and opened the door. He supposed driving wasn’t so bad, his only complaints were bad weather and how boring it got up on the box. Marty said he was a good driver and had let him begin taking the team out alone after only a couple weeks. This assignment had been his first over night job. He had to go get Copenhagen Jr. at his boarding school and then come pick up his date for the lord’s welcome home party.

He pulled open the door, and held out a hand for the Lady as she approached to help her in, and nearly choked on his own breath. “Amy?” He mouthed wordlessly. She was barely recognizable, with her hair done up, her face painted and in a silk dress. But he had no doubt who it was, and no doubt that the additions to her person had made her even more appealing to him.

“Tom?” she whispered her blue eyes stared disbelieving at him as she paused before getting in the carriage. He lost the second half of her words as Copenhagen Jr. cleared his throat, interrupting their short reunion.

Tom quickly blinked and made himself straighten back up in the proper indifference a driver should have, but he was certain Amy had squeezed his hand before disappearing into the carriage.

Tom bowed as Copenhagen Jr. stepped up into the carriage with no help and then gently shut the door, his face a mask of disbelief. His mind whirled with thought as he nimbly hopped back up to the driver’s seat and took hold of the reins and snapped them to start the team moving forward.

Covering another yawn nearly an hour later, he blinked, peering into the gathering darkness to make sure to steer around any holes or debris in the tree-covered road. He pulled through the wrought iron gates at the end of the drive, slowing the horses to a walk with a soft word.

He reached the front doors and pulled the horses to a stop before leaping stiffly down from the driver’s seat. He pulled open the door and Copenhagen Jr. stepped down. Tom offered a hand to Amelia, who whispered a thank you and gave him a quick smile before taking Copenhagen’s arm.

Copenhagen glanced back at him. “Give my bags to the servants.” He said shortly, before sweeping Amy away and up the steps.

Tom sighed and leapt back aboard the carriage and drove it off to the barn, he had just entered the yard when a voice cried out, making him curse and tug sharply on the reins.

“Watch where you’re going Tom!” Jonas’s voice rang out from in front of the two horses, which luckily were placid enough that they didn’t do more than dance in place.

“Sorry, I must be falling asleep up here,” Tom replied, jumping down and grabbing the bridle of one of the horses as Jonas grabbed the other and they led them forward to where the carriage was to be parked. “Don’t put it under the cover; I’ve got to take it back out when the party’s over.” He rubbed his face tiredly and began unclipping the horse.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or something,” Jonas supplied spontaneously, analyzing him closely.

Tom shrugged, “You could say that.” And he proceeded to elucidate the details of what had happened.

Jonas’s eyes widened when Tom grew silent again and he gave a low whistle. “Must be fate man,” He eyed Tom, his words decided and slow.

Tom watched him skeptically as the two entered the barn and cross-tied the horses across from each other. “What do you mean by that?” He asked, still watching him.

Jonas shrugged nonchalantly and grabbed a brush. His words could have been idle conversation for all the effort he put into them. “I’m just saying, how often do you fall in love with a girl who loves you and then have her leave you?”

Tom voiced a protest that Jonas quickly put down.

“And you just “happen” to work for the man she’s destined to marry, and just “happen” to drive their coach, and she just “happens” to try to talk to you and smiles at you? It seems to me, you’re not the only one still in love. But then, that’s just my opinion.” Jonas shrugged again, not looking at Tom.

Tom thought on his words. “Why wouldn’t she try to talk to me? We haven’t had contact for over a month.” He stared at the dark hide of the horse in front of him.

Jonas laughed, “Why wouldn’t she talk to you? You’re a driver!”

“Yeah, but-”

“Upper class doesn’t talk to us! Heck, they barely notice we’re there. If she had stopped to talk to you, certainly Copenhagen would have though something was up, and left her standing on the steps. As far as he knows, she’s never seen you before; much less had contact with you!” Jonas paused, and then turned to him, tossing his brush into a bucket. “From what you’re telling me, she went there to become a lady, get an education, a new life. If she wanted this new life so much, she would have acted the part. She wouldn’t have given you a second glance; she probably wouldn’t have even let you help her into the carriage. That’s how a “real” lady would act.” He shrugged, and unclipped the horse and led it down the aisle. “But then, like I said before, must be fate.”

Tom stared at his retreating back silently wondering. Amy’s words came back to him from that last day in the barn. “But Tom! I don’t want to leave anymore! At first, it sounded great, like an exciting adventure, but now, oh, I don’t want to leave! I’ll miss everyone too much - I’ll miss you too much…”

Maybe she had been speaking the truth – but if she had wanted to come home so bad, why had all the letters she sent home never mentioned it? Not once. Nor had the letters mentioned his name anywhere in them. Her parents had told him what the few letters that she had sent contained. Never had she written him, or her other friends. Suddenly he found it strange.

He started as the horse nudged him impatiently. He glanced at it, and it stared back with its liquid eyes. “Am I crazy?” He asked it as he began to lead it down the aisle.

The horse nodded firmly as Jonas joined him again, carrying a bucket of feed.

Jonas confirmed what the horse thought. “First sign of being crazy: talking to things that can’t talk back.” He grinned easily, pouring the food into the horse’s trough. “So what’re you going to do about her?”

Tom shrugged. “Sleep on it. I’m dead tired from that trip, you’ve no idea how late Copenhagen likes to drive or how early he gets up.” Tom shook his head with tribulation. “Wake me up in a few hours, would you? I still have to drive them back.”

Jonas nodded, “Sure thing. This party could last until well after midnight though.”

Tom groaned and stumbled off, his mind half on Amy and half on his bed.




But somewhere down the road
Our roads are gonna cross again
It doesn't really matter when
But somewhere down the road
I know that heart of yours
Will come to see
That you belong with me*




“My Lady,” Lord Copenhagen said, as a servant decked in the finest livery held the door open for them.

“Thank you, milord,” Amelia replied formally, stepping through the grand entrance way and into the front hall.

The exterior of the house had been dark stone, a little foreboding and unwelcoming. The interior however seemed to be an entirely different manner. Amelia felt her mouth part a little at the height to which the ceilings reached and the impressive tapestries and woodwork that littered the walls.

She came back to her senses when Lord Copenhagen took her hand again, and led her beyond the entrance doors into an even more impressive dance hall. Heavy beams crossed into the cavernous roof, grand archways gaped on the sides, under which tables were laden with food and drink, or simply places to sit had been arranged. Ladies and Lords in all manner of color danced on the floor, or relaxed at the tables, chatting idly or eating.

She simply stood and gazed at the finery before Lord Copenhagen’s voice interrupted her thoughts, though he wasn’t talking to her. He was speaking to another man in livery; however, this man’s was finer than that of the man at the door.

Amelia hadn’t realized what he was doing until the man turned, and in a sonorous voice called out. “Lord Robert Copenhagen III, escorting Lady Amelia Montgomery.”

Amelia could feel the muscles in his arms tighten as they slowly walked down the wide stairs heading the ballroom. Swallowing, she felt her own muscles tighten as everybody turned to look, applauding politely. Trying to keep her posture perfect, she only let out her breath when they reached the bottom and he steered them over to a table. At her side, she heard Lord Copenhagen echoing her.

He held out a chair for her, and then sat next to her, as a servant offered them crystal goblets of wine. “God I hate doing that.” He glanced at her and gave her a quick grin. “I forgot to warn you, forgive me.”

At his smile, she couldn’t help but smile back and nod, “I know nothing to forgive, milord.”

He smiled again, “Please, call me Robert.” He took a drink of the wine and then glanced into its depths before looking over at her again when she spoke.

“Then you must call me Amelia, Robert,” she smiled, straightening her dress so it would lie smoothly along her legs.

“Very well then Amelia, would you care to dance?” He set his goblet down and held out a hand as he stood.

She smiled, and was swept over to the dancers, soon lost in an intricate waltz and another dance after that and another after that.

Hours later, the she finally collapsed at a table with Lord Copenhagen at her side, both flushed and pleasantly tired.

“You are a wonderful dancer Amelia,” Robert complimented her, taking a biscuit off the small sweets on a tray centered on the table to nibble on.

“Oh, but you must give yourself credit as well, you were an excellent partner,” She returned the flattery, smiling. “I’m exhausted now though!” She continued, letting her breath out and wishing corsets weren’t mandatory.

Lord Copenhagen smiled, “Might I interest you in a walk through the gardens? The night air will be refreshing.”

Amelia smiled, standing to take his arm. “A walk sounds wonderful.”

The gardens were as cool and refreshing as Lord Copenhagen had promised, with the addition of sweet scented flowers and the tinkle of water falling in fountains.

“These are beautiful…” Amelia half-sighed her eyes roaming the would-be bright foliage, whose colors were subdued in the night air, as they strolled along.

“Care to sit?” Lord Copenhagen said, after moments of companionable silence, directing her into a small, enclosed space.

They sat on a stone bench talking about nothing for another hour. It was about on her third attempt to cover a yawn that he smiled and stood up. “It is late, and I fear I have kept you out past your bedtime.” He bantered good-naturedly.

She smiled and put her arm through his as they walked from the gardens. “I fear you have, I don’t think I can stay up much longer.”

They returned to the entrance hall, where couples and groups were all saying good-bye and departing.




Tom successfully had nicked a ribbon from the laundry room. A blue ribbon to be exact – he had a plan. Smiling to himself, he stuffed it in the breast pocket of his uniform as he finished clipping the horses back into their harnesses.

“Well you for one seem to be in a much better mood. Sleep do you good?” Jonas commented, emulating Tom’s actions on the other horse.

Tom muttered incomprehensibly, and led the horse to the carriage, expertly settling him between the shafts and strapping them in place.

Jonas gave him a look, “Fine then, at least tell me when you get back then.” Finished with his job, he scurried back into the barn, no doubt to find a secluded corner in the hayloft and sleep while waiting for Tom to return.

Tom smiled to himself at the younger boy’s actions, climbed up in the driver’s seat, and directed the horse’s to the front door.

He leapt down again to open the door, attempting to catch Amy’s eye as she entered, but she looked tired and seemed unwilling to focus on anything. Copenhagen Jr. glanced at him, and raised his eyebrows, but Tom quickly dropped his eyes and didn’t say anything.

The drive back to the Montgomery place was uneventful. He was nearly asleep, letting the horses drive themselves when they reached the open gates. Blinking groggily, he scrubbed at his face, appearing to look alert before stepping down and opening the door.

Copenhagen Jr. helped her out, so he had no opportunity even to see her. He stood there at attention, listening to their farewells at the door, clenching his jaw as he saw Copenhagen Jr. kiss her hand, and then her smile and look down. He made himself look away before he got angry.

He shut the carriage door behind Copenhagen Jr. and deliberately dropped the blue ribbon out of his pocket. He immediately bent down to pick it up, and re-opened the carriage door.

“Milord Copenhagen?” He said hesitantly.

Copenhagen Jr., who had been leaning his face in his hands, looked up, his face tired. “Yes? What is it?”

“She, um Lady Amelia dropped this,” He held up the ribbon for proof. “I’ll just go give it back real quick before we leave, shouldn’t be more than a minute.” Copenhagen Jr. nodded and dropped his face back into his palms.

Smiling at his luck, he shut the door and nearly ran up the steps, knocking on the door hastily. He hoped she hadn’t walked too far away that she wouldn’t hear him. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a piece of paper as the door opened.

“Tom!” Amy exclaimed, ushering him in. “Where, what, oh, forget it – Tom!” She threw her arms around him and he felt the breath knocked out of him.

“Why haven’t you answered any of my letters?” He asked her when she finally released him and stepped back.

She looked dumbstruck. “Letters? Tom, you haven’t sent me anything at all while I’ve been here. Its not like you answered mine either!” Her confused blue eyes met his.

“I’ve sent you something every week!” He protested, “You didn’t get anything?”

She shook her head, “Not-” Her eyes widened as a door’s slam echoed through the hallways. “Tom! You have to go! How’re you going to explain…?” She suddenly clutched at him again, like when she had left home, only now he was the one leaving.

“Love you,” He breathed deep; he couldn’t remember when she had smelled so sweet. He returned the embrace before he heard the sound of footsteps down the hall and hurriedly pushed her away, his eyes and voice urgent.

“Say I’m here because you dropped this.” He shoved the ribbon into her hands, “This is from me-” He suddenly dropped into a bow, and when he rose, his face was a complete mask of indifference. He spoke a little louder, “My Lady, Milord Copenhagen noticed you dropped your ribbon and was only wishing to return it,” His hazel eyes flickered toward the severe looking woman now standing behind Amy, and for all her dressing gown and night time fripperies, she looked like a bodyguard ready to do battle.

“Lady, Lady, goodnight,” He said, bowing to each of them, his eyes lingering longingly on Amy before he let himself out the door and nearly bursting with happiness at his tiny accomplishment set the horses back down the road into the night.




Sometimes good-byes are not forever
It doesn't matter if you're gone
I still believe in us together
I understand more than you think I can
You have to go out on your own
So you can find your way back home.*




“Who was that?” Miss Scarlet demanded, snatching the ribbon from Amelia’s numb hands as Amelia stared at the door. She examined its blue length closely.

Amelia’s eyes went wide, and she looked down to hide whatever might show on her face. Gathering her composure, she looked up, trying to sound uncaring. “It was just the driver. The ribbon must have dropped from my hair as I stepped out of the carriage, he was only returning it.” She held out a hand, but didn’t reach for it.

Miss Scarlet didn’t return it, and her sharp eyes seemed to bore into Amelia’s s skull. Amelia took a small step back and swallowed. “Then what, may I ask, is that?” She directed a motion to the paper clutched near to crinkling in Amelia’s other hand.

Amelia’s eyes went wide again, and she held the paper tighter. Miss Scarlet had every right to take it away from her, and read what was in it. “It’s, uh, Rober - er, Lord Copenhagen’s address. We plan on writing each other.” She quickly finished, feeling her cheeks grow hot under the scrutinizing stare of Miss Scarlet.

Slowly, she handed the ribbon back to Amelia, her eyes glittering dangerously in the moonlight that shone through from a high window. “In the future, do not take it upon yourself to answer the door. Especially do not answer the door in the middle of the night – it is a task for servants, and no better.” She paused, “Do you realize it is past three in the morning?”

Amelia hung her head, trying to look conciliatory as possible while her heart pounded. “I’m sorry Miss Scarlet. I didn’t…” She quailed under the harsh stare. “It won’t happen again.” She finished quickly.

Miss Scarlet handed her the ribbon. “Now get to bed.”

Amelia bobbed a curtsy, relief flooding through her, took the ribbon and fled.

She reached her rooms in a matter of moments, quickly pushing the paper into her diary and shoving it under her mattress. Sighing, she fell onto her bed, lying inert for a moment to let her breath calm before she stood back up and slowly began to undress.

Nearly a half-hour later, with her dress hung properly and her face washed, she pulled the letter out from under her mattress and sat cross-legged on the bed near the open window. Stealing a glance toward the door, she unfolded the creased paper, a smile etching across her face as she recognized Tom’s crude writing.

Squinting in the faint moonlight, she began to read.




Her own footsteps seemed to haunt her in the hallways as she left the girl fleeing down the opposite hall. There was no point in following her to make sure she was going to bed. She believed she had scared her sufficiently enough that her orders would be followed.

Taking a quick glance around her, she stole into a secret door hidden behind a tapestry, no doubt, it used to be a closet of some type, but it was large enough to serve her purpose once it had been cleaned and furnished.

Sighing, she settled into the padded chair set up behind the desk crammed into the space and sighed. Her private office, her sanctuary.

She pulled out a drawer, and reached up underneath the other one, pulling out a stack of letters, slitting open the seal on the most recent one, from The Fosters, to a certain “Beloved daughter Amelia”.

She smiled grimly as she read the letter, and then pulled out the one below it, written in Amelia’s hand, quickly read it, and then crumpled it up, tossing it in the waste bin. She took out a sheet of paper and began a reply, addressing it to, “My loving family”.

Finally, she blotted the ink and neatly folded the paper, pushed it into an envelope and set it on the edge of her desk. She pulled out another envelope, dated three days previous. Her eyes narrowed in dislike as she read the header, “My Lady Amy Anne” and then the footer, “Love Tom – I’ll always be waiting for you.” She growled quietly to herself, spying the ever-familiar line of “When are you going to write back?” and immediately crumpled the letter into a ball, and tossed it to waste. If she never wrote back, he would give up. Sighing again, she leaned back in her chair, hands folded together.

She regretted not taking the paper from the girl now. If only there was a way to make sure it really was from Lord Copenhagen’s son. She didn’t know whom else it could have been from, so she had left it there. It was better not make the girl too suspicious of her actions.

The dance had gone perfectly. Lord Copenhagen had convinced his son to be nice, and she supposed he had followed orders. Amelia had been the last back at any rate, and there was no reason for her to stay that long unless she liked the person she was with – Lord Copenhagen. The two were even writing each other now, from what Amelia told her. She smiled again, and then her smile slipped.

What if he wasn’t playing - what if he really did like Amelia, and she him? That couldn’t happen. Love was cursed.

Love had hurt her, and her father. Only her aunt had ever been lucky, falling in love with a good-looking commoner, abdicating her position in their family to run away with him. Miss Scarlet felt a stab of jealousy that was quickly replaced with twisted humor. Rose had gotten her payback for abandoning the family, not a single penny of the inheritance had gone her way, it was all placed with Scarlet’s father, Lord William, in the will, and soon it would be hers. There was no doubt her father was dying. Though the fact saddened her, she had never been close to him. The jealousy of Rose didn’t go away though; it burned deep inside her with a need for revenge.

Her grandparents had never been one for love; their marriage was strictly a business arrangement, as was her father’s matrimony. He had found away around that though, and gotten the Lady arranged to marry him to fall in love with him. In her mind, she laughed, that had certainly backfired. She died in childbirth, scarcely three months later, leaving Scarlet without a mother and a father who tried to drink away his sorrow, and was now paying for that with his too-young death.

Scarlet clenched her hands in fists, the prospect that this child already had someone willing to love her - as a farm wench or a lady! - was driving her insane. According to Kathryn, the lad even looked decent! Grinding her teeth, she stared at the two envelopes lying innocently on her desk and managed to get a small revengeful smile out.




Tom managed to convert the happiness inside him to a mask of indifference as he pulled to a stop at one of the numerous side entrances to the Copenhagen’s mansion. This particular entrance was closest to Copenhagen Jr.’s rooms.

He pulled the door open, expecting Copenhagen Jr. to step out, ready finally to sleep in his own bed, but nobody came. Frowning, he peered inside the dark interior, wrinkling his nose in dismay at what he saw.

Copenhagen was leaned up against the far side of the carriage, his chin shining with a gleam of drool that dripped from his partially open mouth. With his sandy hair flung askew across his face, he wasn’t even remotely beautiful.

Fighting a discrepancy of laughing or choking, Tom reached in and gently shook the man’s shoulder. Copenhagen jumped, wild eyes staring around. “Where - oh,” He said, “We’re home then?” He asked, sitting up and brushing off his mouth as if drooling were an everyday matter – but then again, for him, it might have been.

Tom nodded, “These are the doors nearest your rooms, milord,” He ducked his head, and backed away from the entrance as Copenhagen Jr. stumbled out, mumbling to himself tiredly.

“My bags are in my room?” He questioned, rubbing his face.

“I gave them to the servants with those instructions milord,”

Copenhagen nodded and then turned and lurched up the steeps steps. Tom watched him until the heavy door shut behind him and then shook his head to himself and drove the horses to the barn.

Jonas wasn’t waiting for him as he had claimed he would be, and so Tom was forced to send a call into the barn for him.

Dazedly, Jonas emerged from the barn’s darkened depths, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. “Geez it’s late, it’s almost dawn…” He continued to rub the sleep out of his eyes while he spoke, saving a minute to glance at the horizon. The night was at its darkest point and the sky nearly pure black.

“Tell me about it.” Tom fought back a sudden yawn. “Here, help me get these horses away; Marty said we could sleep in tomorrow since we stayed up so late.” Tom told him as they unhitched the horses and led them into the barn for the last time that night.

Jonas chuckled, “Did he? That was nice...” He commented off-handedly, sleep still very prominent in his features as he dug in a bucket for a brush. Pushing the black hair away from his face, he sighed and commenced to brush the horse in a leisurely fashion.

Tom did the same with the other horse silently, thinking back to Amy’s reaction and what Jonas had said earlier.

“If she wanted this new life so much, she would have acted the part. She wouldn’t have given you a second glance…” Tom’s forehead wrinkled as he thought. She had certainly wanted to see him - nearly jumping into his arms. But then again, she seemed good friends with Copenhagen Jr. as well. He remembered bitterly their farewell in the shadows of the doorway at Montgomery’s house.

Tom gave the horse in front of him a despairing look and switched sides. He could still smell the faint trace of sweat from where the harness had been and began to brush the horse more vigorously. Frowning, he wished he could still smell Amy, anything other than the stables right now. She had smelt of roses and spice, he could still remember, but the memory brought words to his mind as well.

“Letters? Tom, you haven’t sent me anything at all while I’ve been here. Its not like you answered mine either!” She had sent him letters? He had never received anything from her – but then, she didn’t know he was working here. If she never received anything from him, she would have sent the letters home – to his father – who surely would have just burned them. His father was kind enough when it came to living with him, but could hold a grudge. Judging by his last visit home, his father certainly held one.

“Get out of my house,” His father said, sitting at the scrubbed table with a mug between his gnarled hands. He didn’t even look up.

“But, Dad,”

His father looked up and Tom saw the hurt there, but more so the anger.

“My “damned roof” as you so put it, obviously isn’t good enough for your tastes anymore, Driver.” He spat the last word as a curse and rose, coming around the table with steady steps. Tom glanced down at the attire driver’s were required to wear when on call.

“It’s-” He wasn’t even given a chance to explain.

“I do not have need of a driver, and nobody else lives here. You must have the wrong house. Excuse me. The chores are calling.” He brushed by Tom without a glance and disappeared beyond the barn. Tom stood there, struck dumb with hurt and anger and a number of emotions he couldn’t describe. Finally, he left, numbly making his way to the Foster household…

So there was the reason he wasn’t getting anything from her, but as to why she hadn’t gotten any of his letters, it was a cause for thought. He didn’t think the mail system was that bad, a little slow sometimes, but not to the point that at least one of five letters wouldn’t reach a house. Especially Lord William’s, he wasn’t very notable, but you couldn’t help not missing the place.

“Tom.”

A voice swam through his thoughts and he started, blinking to focus his eyes. “Huh?”

“Tom, the horse is going to go bald unless you stop rubbing in the same place,” Jonas chided him.

“What?” Tom stared blankly at the dark hide in front of him, struggling through his stupor.

Jonas sighed and shoved him out of the way, making quick work of the rest of the horse. “You really must be tired. You want to tell me what happened that’s got you in such a state?”

Tom stared at him, and then shook his head, rubbing a fist into his eyes. “Sorry, I must be more tired than I thought. I got a letter to her – or I think I did. There was a woman there, but I hope to God she didn’t take it.”

Jonas looked at him, nonplussed. “Would you care to explain that a little further?”

When he was done, Jonas stared thoughtfully at the ground for a moment until Tom grew tired just watching his motionlessness. He unclipped the horse and prodded Jonas to bring the other one.

Jonas followed him, still deep in thought, finally raising his head to speak when the stall doors were shut. “I think you did the right thing. I doubt she’s likes Copenhagen as much as she lets on.”

He led the way to the barn doors and then shut them, fingering the lock closed from the inside.

“How do you figure that? You’ve never seen her.” He paused, confused. “Why’re you shutting the doors, we have to get out, not in.”

Jonas nodded, “I know, you see that window?” He pointed to a small window inside one of the stalls that had been propped open. Silvery moonlight touched down out of it. “We’re climbing out of it. Marty said since he’s letting us sleep in, this is how we’re paying him back: locking up.” He led Tom into the empty stall.

“Great, I thought my payment was driving.” He braced himself against the wall and grabbed a hold of the window’s ledge he was halfway through when Jonas pulled him back down.

“Me first.”

“What?” Tom yelped, “I was almost out.” He crossed his arms and glared at Jonas.

“You’re also taller; you gotta give me a boost.” He grinned like a little kid.

“I am not.” Tom said, staring back at Jonas crossly.

Jonas laughed, “Don’t want to get your hands all dirty?” He teased.

“No, I just don’t want horse shit on them, and since you work in a barn, surely your boots have that on them.” Tom shot back, leaning against the stall. His thoughts about sleeping in the hayloft were interrupted by Jonas’ voice.

“Fine, I’ll take my boot off so you don’t get your precious hands dirty.” He tugged off one of his boots and tried to balance on one leg. “Now, will you give me a boost?”

Tom scowled at him, but cupped his hands so Jonas could put his foot in it and slip through the window. He tossed the boot after him uncaringly and then hoisted himself through.

He landed with a thump by a thoroughly disgruntled Jonas. “What?” He asked at the face Jonas made.

Jonas held up the boot Tom had tossed after him. Evidently, it had fallen directly in a pile of horse leavings. Tom couldn’t help but laugh and leave Jonas to knock the stick holding the window out off and went to his bedroom.




Dear my Lady Amy Anne,

Amelia smiled at the entrance to the letter, the flowery words lost in the crude writing. Letting the smile linger on her face, she continued reading.

God, I miss you so much. I don’t have too much time to write this. I only just thought up a way to give it to you and we’re leaving in ten minutes. I’m guessing by your reaction earlier, that you didn’t realize I work for Copenhagen now. I’m a groom there, and I drive the coach sometimes. I really have no idea what to write, I just wanted to tell you how much I miss you. You’re probably dancing with Copenhagen right now, the lucky man. I have to go, Jonas says we’ve gotta get the horses ready. Write me, please, I haven’t gotten anything from you. I love you, Tom.

Her blue eyes rose and stared out the window, the sky was at its blackest point just before dawn. She started, realizing she would have to get up in nearly an hour. A star winked merrily at her, and fervently she wished on it, feeling like a little girl again for her action. Nonetheless, she smiled happily to herself as she slipped beneath the sheets, Tom’s letter clutched next to her. She easily fell asleep, a smile still on her face, her dreams full of one person.

Too short a time later, the familiar pounding broke through her dreams, forcefully bringing her back to reality. “Up! Now!” Miss Scarlet’s voice penetrated her sleep-muddled mind as no other could.

“I’m up, I’m up…” She slurred, literally rolling out of bed. She hit the floor with a wince and nearly fell asleep again. The attempt to push herself up by her hands was futile; she slumped back on the floor, closing her eyes.

Kathryn burst through her door, her usual cheery morning-self. “Amelia? Amelia? Where are – what in heaven’s name are you doing on the floor?” She sat on Amelia’s bed and prodded her with a toe of her slipper.

Amelia groaned, half-rolling over, nearly asleep.

“What are you holding? Let me see.” Kathryn bent down to tug the paper Amelia still held clenched in her fists. Suddenly Amelia was awake and she sat up fast enough to make her head spin, she pulled the paper out of Kathryn’s reach. “Just a letter…” She yawned, folding it back up. “I’ll meet you in the bathing room, I promise, go on.” She stood up, much supported by the bed.

Kathryn looked at her dubiously, her brown hair in an untidy pile about her shoulders.

“Go on. I just need to find my dress.” She took Kathryn’s arm and pushed her in the direction of the door, relieved when she took the hint and left. It wasn’t an occasion she wanted Kathryn to start being nosy in.

Sighing, she refolded the letter and pulled out her diary. She had hidden it in a convenient hole in the bed’s framework. She stuck the letter within the back pages, noting that she’d need to get a new one soon, and returned it to the hole in the bed. Stifling another yawn, she retrieved her dress and put it over her arm to carry to the baths.

“Amelia! You look terrible! Did you get any sleep last night?” Miss Scarlet’s voice nearly oozed concern. Her tone made every person in the room turn their head to look at her.

Amelia managed a false – albeit tired – smile. “The dance simply wore me out. I’m not used to such exertions.” She replied as evenly as she could, hating the fact that she knew Miss Scarlet had been up as late as she, and still looked fresh.

“Did you have...fun?” Miss Scarlet continued to interrogate her. The other girl’s eyes looked between the two, wondering at the sudden interest Miss Scarlet had in Amelia, usually she didn’t say anything to her.

“Of course!” Amelia replied indignantly. Why wouldn’t she have had fun at a dance? Then, the meaning behind Miss Scarlet’s words began to dawn on her.

“Was Lord Copenhagen kind?” Miss Scarlet intoned, raising an eyebrow that could have meant a number of things.

Amelia got the gist of things now; she had played this game with her sister when they hadn’t wanted Mama to find out. Words behind the spoken words meant more. She smiled broadly. “He was a wonderful dancer, I must say.”

Elizabeth looked stricken behind her makeup, and she hastily looked away from both Miss Scarlet and Amelia.

“You did find your way to your room I hope, and your ribbon? The hallways are quite dark that late a night.” Miss Scarlet replied, her voice casual. Her sharp green eyes stared at Amelia. Maryanne’s dark eyes flickered toward her questioning.

Amelia gave another smile, smoothing her napkin on her lap and cutting the fruit on her plate as she spoke. “Yes, Lord Copenhagen was kind enough to return the favor I bestowed on him when he dropped something and I picked it up for him. As for the halls, I have been in darker places; the halls weren’t too terribly dark in comparison.” She speared a sliver of melon on her fork, raising her eyes to meet Miss Scarlet’s. She knew the rumors that would start from that comment.

Her only comment was, “I see.”

Amelia smiled inwardly to herself; she had won that round. Maryanne nearly lost her composure and gasped, and Kathryn’s eyes seemed about to bug out of her head, but breakfast went on as if nothing outside of ordinary conversation had gone on – and truly, it hadn’t.

“Amelia dear, my class does not teach one how to sleep.” Lord Allen said after gently shaking her awake for the second time.

Yawning, she caught tail end of a comment from Elizabeth, “Not that she needs the help!”

She shook her head, pressing her eyes so not to smudge her makeup. “I’m sorry sir; I’ll not let it happen again.”

He tapped her desk with his fingers. “It had better not.” Usually good-natured, she guessed she was wearing his patience thin by sleeping.

Just short of ashamed at herself, she bent her head to resume her task.




The small window in his room bordered the eastern corner of a garden, and so he didn’t rise until the sun was fully in the sky, finally far enough across to penetrate a little light into the room. Blinking the sleep from his hazel eyes, he groaned and rolled over, shoving a pillow over his face to drown out the light and soft chatter of birds in the garden. It was to no avail.

Mumbling to himself about farming hours and only needing seven hours of sleep, he reluctantly got up and dressed in everyday breeches and a loose shirt. He hadn’t bothered to bathe the night before, and neither had he received one during his journey with Copenhagen. He pulled a fresh uniform from the chest at the foot of his bed and grabbed his boots on his way out the door.

Once in fresh clothes and chewing on a stuffed roll, he lazily wandered back into the servant’s hall and knocked on Jonas’ door. Jonas’ mumbled reply barely made it through the heavy door.

“Get up,” Tom called, “It’s past noon. Marty said we could sleep, but not this long.” He rolled his eyes as Jonas groaned from inside of his room, but waited until he heard the boy puttering in his room to abandon his post on the wall.

It wasn’t until they were sitting at one of the tables in the kitchen eating dinner that they had the chance to talk again. Tom was idly picking at the roasted meat they were eating, his eyes staring across the room at the big hearth when Jonas brought the subject again.

“You’re in love.” He said simply, after studying Tom’s face for five minutes without him noticing. Tom started, staring at Jonas in shock, making his evidence all the more plausible.

Tom blinked, “What makes you think that?” he said after a careful pause.

Jonas raised an eyebrow at him. “You sat here nearly all dinner and barely ate anything, stared off the whole time, and kept sighing.” He laughed, “You’re worse than a girl.”

Tom glanced at his barely-touched plate and shrugged, not contradicting Jonas.

“You were thinking of Amy, weren’t you?” Jonas asked, twirling his fork in the remains on his plate.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Tom asked curiously. Was there something in his expression that gave it away? He rubbed his hand across his face as if to rid himself of whatever it was.

Jonas shrugged, “I know how it feels.”

Tom started at that and swung his legs around so he was facing Jonas. “You know what it feels like to be in love?” He asked incredulously.

Jonas glanced down looking flustered; “Yeah,” then he looked up, a wicked grin on his face. “So, you’ve been caught guilty of saying you’re in love, what’re you going to do about it?”

Tom shrugged, “What can I do? According to you, I’m not allowed to see her, according to her, she doesn’t get my letters. Whether they’re stopped or just don’t get there I don’t know. Her teacher, or guardian, or whoever obviously didn’t like me, then there’s the fact she’s rich. And if Copenhagen finds out…” He left the last of his statement unsaid.

Jonas stretched his feet out in front of him on the bench and sighed, his eyes flicking across the room. There were other people eating there, servants, and gardeners, and just about every sort of help. “Well, I’m not exactly sure she’s in with Copenhagen yet. If we could find someway to stop her from liking him, maybe she’d leave school-”

“No.” Tom broke in, his hazel eyes stubbornly refusing the possibility.

Jonas’ eyebrows rose. “What would be so wrong with that?”

“You don’t know how much it means to her parents that she’s there. That she’ll be more than just another farm girl will. If only for them, she needs to stay…” He shook his head, “You probably wouldn’t understand…but she had to finish school there.”

Jonas nodded slowly. “Well, since that’s out of the question, how else can you talk to her?”

Tom shrugged, his hazel eyes losing focus, and then turning back to Jonas. “Why are you so sure she doesn’t like him? That’s the second time now that you’ve said that. You’ve never even seen her before.” He reiterated from the night before, his brows creasing.

Jonas’ cheeks flushed from their normal fair color. “Well, the other night at the dance, Mandy and I-”

“Mandy?” Tom queried, his eyebrows rising.

“She’s…well,” Jonas looked stumped at how to explain her.

“You’re in love with her.” Tom supplied blatantly, suppressing a grin.

Jonas didn’t meet his eyes, “Yeah. Anyway, I was with her that night, and she wanted to see some of the dance. She loves to see ladies in all their finery, you know.” He commented before continuing. “And so we watched them for awhile from one of the upper levels that overlooks the dance floor. She was pointing out the different people she knew. She mentioned Copenhagen and his partner. In fact, she talked about them a lot.” Jonas said, “I didn’t realize who she was talking about until later when you told me about Amy. Red-ish hair, right? And she was wearing blue?”

Tom nodded, “What did she say about them?”

Jonas’ eyes lost focus and then he grimaced, “I don’t know I wasn’t really paying attention – don’t tell her that though! Let me go get her, she’ll tell you.” He the slid off the bench and gingerly made his was toward a table full of maids, all giggling and talking like geese. They grew quiet when he got close, staring at him as if he were an intruder.

Tom could tell he didn’t go to the table often, and he nearly chuckled at the boy’s awkwardness.

A minute later, one of the girls was extracting herself from the throng and following him back across the room to their table. The table they left erupted once again in conversation, this time though, they kept sending glances back at him and Tom.

Tom studied her as they came back toward him, while Jonas explaining the situation to her. She was more on the short side, and despite the heavy servant’s attire, managed to look thin. She slid into the bench, her bright green eyes meeting Tom’s happily. It registered with Tom she couldn’t have been older than fourteen.

A smile made her just short of beautiful, and she brushed back her tumble of brown curls before speaking. “So you’re Tom!” Jonas slid in beside her, and she quickly took up residence nearly glued to his side. Surprisingly though, they didn’t look uncomfortable; Mandy seemed to fit there.

Tom wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh, yeah…”

“I’m Mandy, I’m sure Jonas has told you all about me.” She glanced at him as if to confirm this and Jonas shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

Tom swallowed, feeling out of place himself.

Their awkward movements didn’t faze Mandy. “Oh, its okay, I still love you, don’t look so afraid.” She reached over a pecked Jonas on the cheek, who mumbled under his breath, fighting the urge to turn red.

She let her head drift sideway on his shoulder, her green eyes still studying Tom. “Jonas said you’re in love with Lord Copenhagen’s lady.” She said plainly.

Tom sat back in his chair, wishing she would stop staring. He shrugged and Jonas sighed.

“Mandy, he’s in denial. He won’t believe that she’d still love him, but he won’t ever stop thinking about her. He didn’t even stop thinking to eat dinner.” Jonas broke in, giving Tom an annoyed look that Tom returned.

Mandy eyed the plate in front of Tom. “Well, then you need to make your decision. Do you want her, or don’t you? I’m all for love, but I’m not going to help if you don’t want it.”

“How do you know that you can help me?” Tom replied, crossing his arms across his chest, his eyes flickering across the room where the table of maids had just erupted in shrill laughter.

“How do you know I can’t?” She challenged.

She grated his nerves, her optimism, and the obvious bond between her and Jonas. Then there was the table across the room glancing back at them and laughing, sometimes pointing. Tom shrugged again, sighing as he felt his temper rising. “I don’t. Look, I love her, but she’s in love with a Lord for heaven’s sake, Lord Copenhagen!” His voice rose as he tried to keep his emotions at a reasonable level.

“Shh!” Mandy cautioned him. “You don’t want people over hearing stuff.”

Tom glared at her, but lowered his voice. “She likes this guy, why shouldn’t I want her to be happy and marry him and get rich and have a trillion babies with him? It’s the reason she’s going to that school! It’s not like she answers any of my letters, or that if I did get to talk to her that it would look right. She’s a Lady, I’m a driver! We don’t mix.” He let his breath out angrily.

Mandy looked taken aback and Tom saw Jonas put his arm around her. Slowly, she began to talk, her voice quiet. “Obviously if you’re willing to give up your happiness for hers, we should at least try.” She looked at him sadly. “Here, let’s start by with what I saw at the ball.”

Tom watched her eyes carefully her sudden change in emotions making him think she was actually serious. He tried not to look at how close they sat, or think about how close he and Amy had once sat. Shaking his head, he rid himself of the thoughts, putting his attention to what she was saying.

“Well, no offense, but you guys probably don’t know too much about how a woman acts when she’s in love,” she glanced at Jonas, but he didn’t say anything. “I’m not even sure she likes him that much. They had all the natural courtesies needed when they danced, but there wasn’t anything…special. And when they were sitting and talking, he seemed interested in her, I don’t doubt that, but she wasn’t the same with him. She just kind of sat there, nodding politely. Now, I wasn’t exactly right next to them, but I’d guess she still does remember you.” She paused, her barely freckled nose crinkling up as she thought. “Jonas said you talked to her? What’d she do?”

Tom’s eyes switched over to Jonas, “What did you tell her?”

Jonas’s grey eyes met his levelly, “Pretty much everything. She’s the only person I tell everything.” He paused when Tom looked ready to say something. “Hey, be glad I did, she’s helping us.” His arm tightened around her protectively.

Tom dropped his head in his hands and sighed again. “I suppose I should tell both of you everything then.”

Mandy nodded her agreement, “I think that will have to wait until later though, we’ve got night-chores.” She pointed out, as people began to leave at the chiming of a bell.

Jonas nodded, “We do too. Let’s meet in my room after chores are done.”




Dear Diary,
I’m extremely troubled. Three things won’t stay off my mind.

Uncle’s getting sick and I know it. Last time we went out riding he decided we had to go in early because he didn’t want me out in the cold, but I know it was because the cold was hurting him more. What’s worse is, I don’t think Miss Scarlet is doing anything for him. I’d be simply devastated if he were to go.

I think I’m forgetting Tom. Every time I open this up to write, I see his letter, and I remember him, and his hasty words. I want to love him, I really do, but it’s been a month since then, and he hasn’t written, or answered a single letter I’ve written him. I think I’m about to put him in the past, at least, put our relationship in the past..

The third thing that’s been on my mind is Robert. He’s written many times, and I’ve written back. I can’t wait to see him again; I hope it will be soon. I’ve got really mixed feelings about him. You see, I don’t want to forget Tom, but I want to get to know Robert much more than letters can say. All the girls still think I’m dirty because of what I said to Miss Scarlet after the dance. They didn’t seem to realize I was joking. Ah well, it doesn’t bother me because I know the truth.

Well, maybe some of this will resolve soon. Winter vacation is near and I think Miss Scarlet is going to let me go see my family. Maybe I can talk this out with Mama, or somebody. I really have to leave though; my eyes won’t stay open another minute. Good night.



It wasn’t until later that that month that anything unordinary happened. It was late afternoon, and Amelia was in her free hour before dinner, when a servant came bursting into her room, face stricken. “Milady, oh, Milady, come please, Miss Scarlet’s sent for ye. He’s not well at all!”

Amelia immediately put down the embroidery she was working on and followed the servant out of the bedroom wing and into the depths of the home. She felt like ice and she knew her hands were shaking. The servant didn’t even need to speak the name for her to know who was ailing. Lord William.

The man had been nearly a father to her while she was there, sometimes even taking a short ride with her on a free day. He usually ate dinner with them, always managing to make Miss Scarlet flustered by a joke or comment he voiced. Everybody liked him, but Amelia had loved him like a father. Her face growing paler, she suddenly gathered her skirts up past her knees and ran past the servant to her uncle’s rooms.

Her worst fears were confirmed when Miss Scarlet met her at the door and refused to let her go in. Her usually strict features were slack and drawn. “Amelia, you cannot go in there. That’s no place for a lady!”

Amelia shrugged off the barring arm and dashed into the rooms, stopping cold as a man rose from where her uncle was laying just outside the doorway to his bedroom. The man must have been a doctor. He mechanically put things into his bag and then rose, taking it with him. He paused at Amelia’s side, blinking sadly, his eyes bright. “I’m sorry dear, there was nothing I, or anyone, could do…”

“You mean…” Amelia’s jaw dropped slowly and she pushed past the doctor, falling to her knees where her uncle laid, the tears beginning to fall from her eyes. She clutched at her uncle’s still-warm hand, her tears spilling onto the plain clothes he insisted on wearing.

“Finery wasn’t meant for me.” He joked, as they dismounted at the stables, glancing down at his sodden clothes. “And this is exactly why I don’t wear ‘em.” The rain still poured down, and as he helped Amelia down, she handed him back his cloak.

The one he had refused to wear because he said he didn’t want it. He’d rather let the rain drip onto him, he’d said. The picture flashed through her mind of him stopping his horse in the middle of a meadow, head thrown back, arms outstretched, laughing as the rain poured on him.

Amelia wept harder. A hand touched her shoulder, trying to draw her away but she resisted, clutching Uncle’s hand even closer.

“Amelia, come now, come on.” Miss Scarlet’s usually harsh voice was gentle. She would never achieve motherly though, and that’s what Amelia needed – her mother.

“No.” She said bluntly, but Miss Scarlet persisted, and Amelia finally let herself be drawn away. She shrugged off the arm put around her shoulders, and wiped her fingers under her eyes. “I’ll be in my room.” She said woodenly, and left, her chin level, her eyes blank.

Life was going to be hell, she was sure of it. Her parent’s letters were becoming few and far in between, Tom hadn’t written a thing and was slowly slipping from her thoughts, the false rumors she had started still weren’t dying down, and Miss Scarlet was being as obnoxious as ever. Letting her mask slip just a little, she found her only condolence in a letter from Robert. A letter that would give her freedom of this place for a few days.




“Miss Scarlet, you must do something about Amelia! Since, well, since then, she won’t do anything but mope and grieve in her room. She barely ever comes to lunch or dinner anymore!” Kathryn beseeched Miss Scarlet a full two weeks later.

Miss Scarlet stared down at Kathryn, rifling through the letters Kathryn handed her and said quietly, “She has every right to grieve; he was her great uncle after all.”

“I wouldn’t normally ask this at all, Miss Scarlet, but she’s begun to get on everyone’s nerves, not just mine,” Kathryn said.

Miss Scarlet sighed and put the letters in one hand, keeping only one of the letters out. “Fine Kathryn, I’ll see what I can do. It won’t happen right away though. Now get back to class, I’m not paying those teachers to teach air.”

Kathryn bobbed a quick curtsy, “Oh, thank you Miss Scarlet, thank you!” She turned, and hurried down the hall.

Miss Scarlet watched her go, slightly disgusted at her begging. Shrugging it off, she entered her office and tossed the letters on her desk, slitting the one she held with a finger and then opening it.

Moments later, she fell into her chair, a smile playing at her lips. She couldn’t have asked for better timing. Tossing the letter onto her desk, she rose and found her way to the classroom Amelia was in, knocking softly on the door.

“Milord, could I have a word with Amelia? Thank you.” She watched as Amelia rose, her once happy face stony, the hollows under her eyes seemingly permanent.

Miss Scarlet gently shut the door behind her and turned. “Amelia, Lord Copenhagen is wondering if you’d wish to spend a week at his manor.” She eyed the girl, whose face flickered with a little life. “I highly suggest you go, you need to do something to shake off this grief.”

Amelia nodded, and looked up. “I will, please, tell him I send my regards. What week is it?” She asked.

“Next week, you’ll be leaving a day from now. I suggest you pack tonight. Of course, I will escort you there; I have words to speak with his father. Now get back to class.”

Amelia ducked in a quick curtsy and did as she was told, and Miss Scarlet turned, a smile on her lips once more as she reentered her office and picked through the letters again. She recognized the crude writing in the address of one and immediately dropped it in the waste, moving past it to more important things.



Amelia leaned back in the plush coach, her blue eyes watching the countryside flash by outside unseeingly. Miss Scarlet sat opposite her, hand clasped loosely in her lap, watching Amelia. They rode like that for nearly an hour before the silence began to bother her.

“You do look much better dear, I must say. It must be the fresh air. Since well, since then, you haven’t gotten out much.” She tried to make conversation and tried to be polite. Her plans were finally going as planned. No more strange drivers had shone up in the middle of the night.

Amelia blinked, and then slowly focused on Miss Scarlet, clearly unsure what to say. Finally, she settled on a polite, “Thank you.” At her feet rested a large satchel filled with her things.

“I trust you will keep your studies up?” She questioned, unable to read past the wooden mask Amelia had hidden herself behind.

“Of course, Lord Copenhagen has promised to tutor me in my subjects,” She replied, and for a moment, Scarlet had to wonder if she was trying to imply something else, but when her bland gaze returned out the window, she proved it nothing more than truth.

The coach bumped softly to a stop, and the driver was quickly down to pull open the door and offer a hand. Miss Scarlet glanced at him but said nothing as she got out and then turned toward Amy after she was beside her.

“Your bags will be in your room Milady.” The driver bobbed a quick bow and hopped back up to his seat, leaving them to stride up to the doors alone. Once inside, a servant quickly took them over, leading them to Lord Copenhagen Sr.’s office.

Inside it was moderately comfortable, if a little stiff, and they took seats in front of the desk at his request. He took the seat behind the desk, and looked at them before speaking, his sandy hair was barely touched with nearly invisible gray, and his green eyes were still young. “Lady Amelia, Lady Scarlet, welcome, I hope to find your journey here wasn’t unbearable?” He asked politely.

“It was fine, thank you for sending a coach to us Lord Copenhagen.” Miss Scarlet said.

“No problem at all, my good lady. Now, Lady Amelia, welcome to my house, if you need anything, ask the maids. I will be sure too assign you a personal one while you are here.” His voice got louder as he spoke to someone outside the door. “Please see that Lady Amelia finds her rooms, and that my son knows of her arrival.”

Amelia automatically got up, following the servant out of the room without a word.

Miss Scarlet winced at her briskness, “I am sorry for her rudeness, Milord; she’s recently suffered a loss and still grieves. Half the time she doesn’t notice the rest of the world.” Inwardly, she was cursing. Recently? It had been over a month ago!

Lord Copenhagen brushed it off. “Do not worry; I’m sure a few days here will perk her up. Now, as to her marriage with my son, you’re sure it will work?” He asked after checking to make sure the door was shut.

Miss Scarlet nodded, pressing a hair into place. “As long as your son doesn’t start his “ways” and scare her off. I think it is going smoothly; the only thing that brings life to her face is his name. Another month or so, Lord Copenhagen, I believe will do it. I have agreed to keep her dowry what it was in my late father’s time; the western border is completely yours.”

“Wonderful, wonderful.” He rose, and opened the door to emit a dark haired servant carrying tea on a silver tray. “If you’d care to join me for a cup of tea before you return, I’d be obliged.” He motioned toward two wing chairs settled at the far end of his office in front of a fireplace.

“I would love to,” Miss Scarlet replied, getting up with a smile.




Amelia studied her rooms as she stood in the doorway. They were almost nicer than her Uncle’s personal rooms, but not quite. There was a sitting room, complete with a table in front of the couch – most likely to do her work on – and a cheerily burning fireplace. One doorway led into her private chambers and another led to a bathing room.

“Amelia!” Robert strode in behind her, bowing quickly at the door before reaching her.

She smiled and embraced him, “Robert, finally, I’ve missed you!”

He led her toward the couch and they sank into it side by side easily. He held her hand, and looked at her, “How have you been?”

She smiled, and started to speak, but then her wooden mask splintered and fell, and she found herself relating to him the whole horror of her uncle’s death, and crying into his shoulder while he held her, murmuring softly in her ear.




Tom leaned his face in his hand, his breath forcefully exhaled. He found Mandy’s green eyes, half-afraid of what to believe. “You’re sure?”

Mandy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’m sure Tom, Amy’s here. She’s spending the week with Copenhagen. I’ve been assigned to be her personal maid. Oh Tom, this is your chance! You have to go talk to her!” Her face was flushed from her quick run into the kitchen, and her eyes urgent. “Tom, come talk to her!”

Tom’s face screwed up in thought, his mind going in a billion different directions. He wanted so badly to run into her room and hold her, but something held him back. She needed this marriage - she needed this position. This was the whole reason for her education, her training as a lady. He wouldn’t stop her. Haltingly, he got the words out, his hazel eyes on the untouched breakfast in front of him. “I can’t. Mandy, you know I won’t stop her!” His face rose, his eyes on her, knowing she wouldn’t understand. The hand resting on the side of his face curled into a fist. “I can’t change her mind. There’s no reason she shouldn’t love him and marry him. It’d be better if I just stayed away, completely away.” He said bitterly, his voice hard.

“But Tom-” Mandy began, her face as broken as he thought it would be.

“Mandy, look, I appreciate it, but I changed my mind. She needs him more than I need her.” He didn’t look at Mandy. He knew if he did, she would change his mind. “Jonas probably needs help with that stallion, I’ve got to go.”

“Tom, I know that’s not what you want…” Her words went on deaf ears as he pushed through the swinging door, fists clenched at his sides in unrestrained emotion.

He didn’t know what he felt, or what he wanted to feel. He blew out his breath as he neared the stables, then broke into a quick jog as he broke into the yard and heard a stallion’s shrill noise.

He grabbed a rope on entering the barn, immediately turning, his eyes going wide. Charger’s box was wide open, and the stallion coming toward him.

He swallowed, instinct taking over. Raising his arms, he shouted, scaring the stallion back. Charger’s flight wasn’t from fear then, had it been from fear, nothing would have stopped him from running Tom down. His liver coat wasn’t sweaty either.

Snorting loudly, he half-reared, turning in the wide aisle. Behind him, he saw Jonas come out of the stall, straw in his dark hair.

“Jonas?” He called, keeping his eyes on the stallion, his out stretched arms making him back closer to where his stall was.

“Damn beast. Marty must’ve let the mares out in the paddock on the other side of the barn. This guy smelt ‘em.” He rubbed his shoulder suppressing a wince.

Tom warily approached the stallion, which was now pacing in a circle that was growing tighter as he drew near. Mumbling nonsense to him, he reached a hand out, quickly snatching it back when the horse snapped at him agitatedly.

“Jonas, don’t let him by you, we’re going to have to herd him back in his stall.” He took a step forward, and the stallion took one away.

Jonas’ fair features were taut with concentration and pain. Quickly, he darted in while the stallion was turned, slapping him smartly on the flank. The stallion jumped sideways, and Tom slapped him again, driving him forward. Both were careful to stay clear of his hooves. Luckily, he tended not to kick after his hoof had healed.

The stallion darted forward, nearly catching his shoulder on the stall’s doorway. He made a quick turn, letting a hoof fly out to meet the door as they slammed it shut.

Tom let out a relieved breath, tossing his rope in the stallion’s box. “You okay?” He asked Jonas.

“He just clipped my shoulder when he reared, wanting out. I’ll be okay,” He bit his lip as he massaged his shoulder.

Tom was about to reply when Marty came hurrying down the aisle. “Hey, you two, I need two horses, Copenhagen and some lady want to go riding. They’ll be down here in five minutes. What?” He glanced at Tom.

“Amelia, her name’s Amelia.” He mumbled and then looked up. “I’ll get then, Jonas got kicked and his arm’s no good right now.”

He hurried down the aisle after Jonas flashed him a look of relief. Five minutes later, he handed the reins of two horses to Marty, a spirited mare and a big-boned gelding. Straying to the shadows just beyond the doorway, he watched as Copenhagen and Amy approached.

He couldn’t help but admit they looked good together, Copenhagen in dark brown, and Amy in deep green on his arm. They talked easily before he assisted her onto her horse – something she would never allow had they been back home. She was always independent – he was surprised she relented to riding side-saddle, she had always considered it too “easy” and insisted on riding astride so they could race. She still handled her horse easily though, as did Copenhagen.

Sighing wistfully, he watched them turn their horses and disappear beyond the side of the barn, headed for the trails.




“You don’t have to do that!” Amelia exclaimed, sweeping into her guest rooms with flushed cheeks. The weather was growing ever closer to winter and there was a nip in the air. The servant who had been hanging her dresses in a closet started, nearly dropping the dress she was carrying.

She turned and dropped in a curtsy. “No Milady, it’s my job, they’ve been freshly pressed, and I wouldn’t want them getting creases now.” She hung the dress she was holding up and bent to pick up the last one.

“Let me get that,” Amelia picked up the last dress, still smelling faintly of the hot iron and hung it with flourish on the rack. “There. You really don’t have to do anything you know, I’m perfectly capable of caring for myself.”

The maid flushed and looked down, dark curls tumbling around her face. “Isn’t there anything I can do?” She asked, clearly at a loss.

“Well, you could give me your name…and perhaps something to drink? I’m fairly parched from that ride. I’d get it myself, but I’m afraid I don’t know where the kitchens are.” Amelia said, fanning herself with a hand and slipping off her riding gloves. She tossed them on the bed and then fell after them, pulling a leg up to relieve herself of her boots.

“Mandy, Milady-”

“Please, call me Amelia, I used to dream about being called Milady, or Lady, and now I find it’s a bit too formal for my taste. I’m just a country girl at heart.” She smiled warmly at the girl, wrenching off her other boot and dropping it with a thud on the floor.

“Very well then, my name is Mandy, I’ll go find you something to drink,” She dropped in another curtsy and scurried from the room.




Mandy fled the room, a quiet smile stealing across her face as she shut the door behind her. She could certainly see why Tom was infatuated with Lady Amelia. She was nice, in her own way. She could already guess this time she would like serving a lady. Ladies usually wanted every little thing done for them, from removing their gloves to having their feet rubbed. Mandy shuddered, pushing open the kitchen door.

She called to the cook for some cold sweet tea on a platter and then turned to lean on the wall while he prepared it. The door opened as she glanced around the room, and she gasped as Jonas came in, pale faced and tight-lipped.

“Jonas!” She hurried across the room, “What happened?” She helped him sit down on a bench. He winced when she touched near his shoulder. “Here, I’ll get you ice.”

Darting into the rear of the kitchens, she quickly filled a rag and tied it to make a neat compress. Gingerly, she pressed it against his shoulder, biting her lip as he muttered under his breath. “Jonas, what happened?”

“Stallion kicked me this morning, then when Copenhagen came back from his ride, his horse freaked out at something. I don’t know, might’ve been the lightning.”

“Lightning?” Mandy said her forehead creased.

Jonas raised his head a little. “Yeah, it started to rain about the same time they got back, but anyway, his horse spooked, and I was right there, so I grabbed his reins, and he jerked his head, trying to rear. Nearly pulled my arm out, I guess I had him at a bad angle. Marty told me not to worry about working until tomorrow.” He attempted a shrug and his eyes shut tight with the pain.

“What about Lady Amelia? Did she get hurt?” Mandy asked, wide-eyed.

Jonas gave a rueful grin, his gray eyes meeting Mandy’s. “Naw, she leapt right down and grabbed the horse from me. Scared the horse enough he stood still. I think she scared Copenhagen somewhat, but he’ll get over it.”

Mandy eyebrows rose again, and her open-mouthed stare at him slowly turned into a smile. “I could imagine her doing just that. I’ve just come from her room, she’s…” Mandy was at a loss of how to describe the Lady Amelia.

Jonas shifted, “This ice isn’t doing any good over my shirt, its too thick.”

Mandy chuckled, “Well, I don’t think Cook would forgive you if you took off your shirt here. Go soak in a hot bath or something. I’ve got to give this tea to Lady Amelia.” Mandy rose, handing the ice pack to Jonas and kissed him. “Don’t hurt yourself anymore. I’ll talk to you at dinner.”

Jonas grunted and stood up, shuffling out of the room while Mandy got the tea tray, realizing she had stayed in the kitchens much longer than she had intended. Balancing the tray in her hands with ease born from hours of long practice, she trotted back to Lady Amelia’s rooms.

“There you are!” Lady Amelia had changed into a different dress and was sitting down as Mandy pushed her way through the door. “What took you so long? Consorting with a secret lover?” She grinned easily, making her words into a joke.

Bobbing another curtsy, Mandy flushed, setting the tray on table. “Secret lover? Oh no Milady.”

Lady Amelia snorted most unladylike and picked up one of the cups. “Then perhaps one not so secret?” She pried.

Mandy ducked her head and did not answer, hurrying into the bedroom to pick up the deep green riding dress off the bed. Amelia followed her into the room with a frown on her face.

“Are all servants so silent?” She asked curiously. She bent to pick up her boots, following Mandy to the closet. Mandy didn’t look at her as she replied. “Yes Milady.” She said softly, half amused that Amelia knew so little, half scared at what she could reveal.

Lady Amelia sighed, sitting the boots down with her other shoes while Mandy retrieved her gloves from the bed. “Why though? I never understood it either, at the Montgomery’s it is the same way. They don’t even allow us to give a thank you.”

Mandy’s green eyes studied Lady Amelia’s face for a moment before dropping. She hadn’t guessed how young she was, Lady Amelia certainly didn’t act it. For all the time shown on her features, she couldn’t have been older than Mandy’s own eighteen years. “Well Milady, it’s just not done. Servants keep their master’s silence as well as their own. Its better all around that way.” Mandy said slowly and then quickly turned away before she said anymore.

Lady Amelia didn’t follow her back out to the sitting room and Mandy quickly left before she could. Heaving a sigh of relief as she found sanctity in hallways, she hurried off to find something else to do before Lady Amelia could call her back.




Dear Diary,
Well, I finally made it to Robert’s. It’s nice here, even if the hallways are a little dark. Everybody seems nice enough, and I barely need to ask for something before it’s there. We went on a ride today, and it was wonderful. I do miss riding fast though. It’s quite a hard feat to gallop sidesaddle. Not that I haven’t tried But I daresay you’ve heard that story. Robert is a perfect gentleman in everything he does. His only fault I find is he can be a bit, over powering. He doesn’t like people acting outside their station I suppose. When I caught his horse today, I fear I frightened him. But I won’t worry too much about it. I wouldn’t have done it if the groom hadn’t looked like he was in so much pain. Another sent him off, so I suppose he was hurt.

The maid was really funny when I asked her about servants. I’m not sure what I think about it. I do hope she’ll be friendly though, it’s quite lonely here despite Robert. Who knows, maybe I’ll even see Tom. I have no idea what I’d do then…Robert’s just come for dinner.



Amelia smiled, tucking the diary discreetly amid the cushions in the couch and rose to greet him.

“You look beautiful as always, Amelia,” Robert said, smiling and taking her on his arm.

“And you just as handsome.” Her usual reply came without fail with a smile, and she followed him from the room. They went down the sunset filled hallways to the eating hall.

Jonas cursed to himself as he stumbled walking down the hallway, ruining his efforts at trying to keep his shoulder still. His dark hair clung damply to his skull from his soak a few minutes previous. Somebody gently caught his free arm to steady him and he turned, his lips going up in a smile at Mandy’s features. “Feeling any better?” She asked, tucking her arm in his and pushing open the kitchen door for both of them.

Jonas grunted, following her to the table where Tom was sitting. “I guess so…” He mumbled, sliding into his seat.

"How’s your shoulder?” Tom asked, his hazel eyes on Jonas’ still-pallid face. His plate as usual sat in front of him, barely picked through.

“Sore. I bet I’m going to get a huge bruise,” Jonas quirked his mouth in disgust. Bruises could last for weeks on end. Nodding his thanks, he took the plate Mandy had gotten him.

“Tom,” Mandy began, looking at him earnestly. “You’ve got to try and-”

Tom dropped his fork, looking at her exasperatedly. “Mandy, I told you, drop it.”

“But Tom!” Mandy insisted frowning. “You’ve-”

“Mandy! No.” Tom crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively, his hazel eyes hard. “I told you, I’m not going to interfere. If she can get up there with people like Copenhagen, she deserves it, she needs it. More than she needs me.” He picked up his fork and stared at his food quite blankly before stabbing a piece.

Mandy sighed, pursing her lips. Jonas could tell that she’d bring it up yet again, Mandy wasn’t one to give up. Especially not without a fight. He rubbed his temples with a hand, feeling a headache coming on.

“Jonas?” Mandy turned to him, seeing his actions.

Jonas closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I’m fine, just a headache…” He told her, his smile failing miserably as the headache set in.

Mandy squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You didn’t get hit in the head, did you?” She asked worriedly, her hand checking the side of his head for a bruise.

Tilting his head away from her, he pulled his hair back behind his ear. “No, no, I’m fine.”

Mandy looked at him dubiously, one eyebrow raised. “You sure?” She asked, the tone of her voice making him think of his mother, hands on her hips as she threatened him with a spoon.

He managed a weak nod, and it must have been sufficient to her, because she turned back to Tom.

“Tom, you have to do something! You can’t-”

Tom cut her off yet again. “No, I won’t. I can’t. You don’t understand.” His arms went back across his chest and he leaned back against his chair.

Mandy leaned forward a little, “Then explain it to me.”

Tom sighed, eyeing the ceiling. “You still won’t understand, you’ve never lived like I have, or she did. You’ve always been in a big house, with food, income…” He said with another sigh, his hazel eyes meeting her green ones levelly.

Mandy’s cheeks flushed a little, but she challenged him right back anyway. “Explain it anyway, maybe I will see what you mean.”

Jonas rubbed his temples, which were now throbbing quite horridly and made to stand up. Mandy immediately jumped up to help him.

“Jonas! What’s wrong?” She held onto his arm to hold him back.

He looked at her, “Headache. There’s too much noise in here, I’m going back to my rooms.”

“Do you want help?” She asked with concern, her eyes worried.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably just fall asleep,” bending over, he kissed her lightly. “You don’t have to come check on me, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He looked up, “Night Tom. If I’m late tomorrow, tell Marty my shoulder didn’t get any better over night.”

Tom nodded, “Night Jonas.”

Mandy looked troubled, but agreed to stay. She was sitting back down as Jonas left, her plans already evident as she began to speak to Tom again.

Jonas walked in a half-daze, not paying any attention to where he was going when a voice hailed him from behind. He glanced around, not remembering how he had come to be in this hall. He must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere, and just kept walking and not paying attention.

“Hey, hey! You’re the groom who got hurt, aren’t you?” It was a female voice, educated and self-assured.

Wincing at the loudness of her voice, he paused, turning and giving an awkward bow when he saw the lady striding toward him. “Yes Milady.” He said softly. She stopped about two feet from him and he instinctively took the appropriate steps back to keep distance between them.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, and he glanced at her face, surprised at the genuine concern in her blue eyes.

“Yes Milady, it was just a bruise,” He said modestly, edging away nervously. It would be his job if he were caught talking to her by Copenhagen. Copenhagen hated servants, grooms, drivers or anybody talking to people he considered above their rank.

“It looked a little more painful than that,” She said, eyeing him.

“No Milady, I’ll be okay,” He shifted sideways again, trying to ignore the pounding in his temples. “I won’t keep you…”

Lady Amelia frowned and bit her lips as if unsure whether to ask something. “Do you know Tom?” She finally blurted out, making Jonas flinch, his eyes meeting hers in surprise.

“Yes Lady Amelia, I do,” he replied quietly, casting a quick glance down the hall.

“He-he works here, doesn’t he?” She asked, twining her hands together. She gave a fleeting look down the hall, her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Yes’m.” Jonas ducked his head.

“Oh, I-I have to get back,” Her voice quickened, almost absent-mindedly. “Robert’s supposed to be meeting me…Thank you…” She glanced at him, waiting for him to say something.

“Uh, um” Then he realized she wanted his name. “Jonas, Milady.”

She smiled and inclined her head a little. “Thank you Jonas. Good night then.” She passed by him in a sweet-scented cloud and he gazed after her, slightly confused at her friendly manner. Were she to marry Copenhagen, things definitely would change around the place.

Rubbing his eyes, he continued walking down the hall. His footsteps were loud in the silent passageways, and he half-turned as another pair, but ones quite unsteady, joined them.

Copenhagen Jr. was coming toward him, but something seemed amiss in his usual confident charisma. He passed Jonas without saying a word to him, muttering vaguely to himself. His casually placed blonde hair seemed in a bit of disarray, and he smelt strongly of alcohol. His steps followed Amelia’s toward her door.

Jonas acted fast, trying to forget the dull ache in his head. “Milord, Copenhagen?” He called, praying fervently the man was as drunk as he smelt. It was a full three hours after dinner, he certainly had had enough time to get drunk.

Copenhagen Jr. turned, a hand reaching out to steady himself on the wall. His green eyes slowly focused on Jonas, “What?” He asked in a loud voice.

Quickly he searched for a reason that seemed plausible enough for him to be in the halls. “Sir, Marty sent me to see if you wished for a…” He searched for the words to make his case seem reasonable. “A refreshing ride after dinner. He said you were completely overwhelmed with people asking questions about Lady Amelia.” Jonas bit the inside of his cheek hoping Copenhagen Jr. would take the bait.

Copenhagen Jr. seemed to think about it, muttering under his breath to himself. “Is Amelia going?” He asked, leaning heavily on the wall.

“Ah- no sir. Marty thought you might want some time alone, and she might, might want the time to freshen up.” Jonas felt his breath catch in his chest. Copenhagen Jr. was quiet for several minutes, before he nodded. “Alright, I’ll go. Lead me to the stables.”

Jonas nearly sighed with relief and turned around, searching avidly for any of the servants as they walked. Luckily, he saw one, not too far down the hall as they passed by.

“Beth!” He hissed, motioning for her to hurry over toward him. Dropping back a step behind the intoxicated Copenhagen Jr. he whispered directions hurriedly in her ear. Her eyes widened as he explained, and she hurried off, nearly running down the hall to do his bidding.

Jonas paused, holding the door open for Copenhagen, his eyes on the stable yard. He breathed easier on seeing the open-topped coach standing ready, Tom at its side.

Tom gave a light shrug of confusion to Jonas as he pulled open the door to let Copenhagen inside. Copenhagen stumbled up the single step, and nearly fell on his face. Grunting, he held out a hand to stop him and settle himself in the seat.

Tom wrinkled his nose after he had turned back toward Jonas, “What wrong with him?” He asked incredulously, his hazel eyes wide.

Jonas rubbed his good hand across his face. “I dunno, I was going through the halls – don’t ask – and Lady Amelia stopped me. She asked about you y’know, wanted to know if you still work here.” He raised one eyebrow, but Tom didn’t respond other than to shift his feet. “Then I Copenhagen came along, drunk as heck. He was headed for her rooms…I couldn’t let him go in there. You probably don’t know, but before you came, and Lady Amelia, he would come home from that boarding school of his, get drunk and molest maids…” Jonas shook his head. “I guess we thought he’d changed-”

“We goin’?” Copenhagen’s slurry voice asked from behind them.

Tom half-turned, grimaced and then turned back. “I have to go before he gets the idea this was just a hoax.” He stepped away and then stopped. His hazel eyes met Jonas’ gray ones sincerely. “Thanks.” He said and then jumped to the seat.

Jonas had already turned around when the horses left the yard. He heaved a sigh of relief and immediately groaned as his headache came back full force. Muttering darkly to himself, he found his way to his rooms without mishap this time.

He didn’t bother to turn on the lights as he locked his door behind him. Gingerly, he pulled off his shirt and then stretched out on his bed with a sigh. He closed his eyes, asleep within minutes in the silence.



Dear Diary,
Where is he?! He told me he was coming to my room, and then maybe we’d go on a walk, or something, but he hasn’t shown up! Its three hours past dinner, and I’m afraid he forgot. I’m not sure whether to be angry or sad. I guess I’m sadder. Maybe he was just caught up in things; a lot of people were talking to him at dinner.

The groom who got hurt today is okay I think. I saw him in the hall, and I talked to him. I don’t think he really wanted to talk to me though, he seemed nervous. Servants are so peculiar. I wish I knew why they are so…quiet. I don’t know. I asked him if Tom was here, and he said yes. I hope I’ll see Tom; I do miss him. I wish I could go see my family though…I haven’t gotten a letter from them in almost a month, not since Uncle passed. I wonder if they’ve forgotten me as Tom has. I guess this hasn’t been a very good night. I think I’m going to go to bed early and hope tomorrow is better. Good night.



Amelia smiled and returned the gentle kiss goodnight Robert gave her. “Good night Robert.” She whispered to him in the dark hallway, the smile lingering on her lips.

He smiled, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her close and he kissed her deeply again. “Good night, Amelia. You sure I can’t come tuck you in?” His eyes glinted with mischief and there was a coy smile on his face.

Amelia giggled, pushing him away. “No you silly thing. Go on, I promise, I’ll see you in the morning.” She met his eyes and smiled again before disappearing inside her door, shutting it softly behind her.

It must have been past midnight, so she jumped when she saw Mandy quickly rise from the couch in her sitting room. “Mandy! What are you doing here so late?” She began unpinning her hair, pausing at the troubled look on the girl’s face.

“Mandy, what’s wrong?” Amelia could help it, she had grown fond of the maid in the short time she had been served by her. She beckoned her to sit back down on the couch, and sat beside her.

Mandy swallowed, her lips caught between her teeth. Twisting her hands in her lap, she began softly with none of her usual spirit in her voice. “I know it isn’t right, for servants to…meddle…in the affairs of the people they work for, but I have to ask you, what about Tom?” Her green eyes met Amelia’s, pleading for something Amelia couldn’t figure out.

“Tom?” Amelia chewed on the inside of her cheek. She certainly had not been expecting that question. Slowly she answered. “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. He hasn’t sent me any letters, and-”

Mandy’s back straightened. “That’s not true!” She protested. “He’s sent you a letter nearly every other day! I’ve seen it with the out going mail. You’re the only one he sends anything to. I asked him once if he ever wrote to his family, and he just kind of ignored me…” She frowned. “You haven’t gotten anything he sent?”

Amelia shook her head, blinking as a red-gold curl fell in front of her face. Giving it a disgusted look, she began unpinning the rest of her hair. “Mandy, he couldn’t have sent anything, I would have gotten it. Are you sure he was sending them to me?”

Mandy nodded vigorously. “He made it a point to show that he still wanted to be your friend. He wants you to marry Lord Copenhagen, you know…” Mandy said softly, glancing over at Amelia uncertainly. “Jonas and I talk about Tom a lot,” she paused to take a breath and then went on, her voice gaining speed. “Tom’s so torn up about you. It’s obvious he still loves you-” She held up a hand to Amelia’s words. “But he won’t come near you or talk to you because he thinks its best that you marry the Lord. He says that’s the whole reason you’re getting an education, and that it’s what’s best for you, and its best if he just stays out of it so you can have a good life. He says you need to forget him and move on.” Her voice died, as Amelia stared at her, her blue eyes wide.

“He said that?” She nearly whispered her mind a tumble of emotion and confusion. The relationship she had had with Tom came flooding back from where she had pushed it in the corner of her mind. She stared unseeing at her hands clenched in her lap. She had meant to forget Tom, to move on, because he had. He hadn’t written her, or…but that excuse was useless now. Slowly, she lifted her head to speak, “Why are you telling me this?”

“There’s more you should know too,” Mandy swallowed, distinctly pale now, her few freckles standing out in stark relief. “Lord Copenhagen…he’s not…well.” She said haltingly, keeping her eyes on the floor.

“Not well?” Amelia repeated. “He seems in perfect health to me.”

Mandy shook her head, sending her dark curls tumbling around her shoulders. “It’s not his physical health milady.” She fell back on formal courtesy. “Before-before you came along, when he was going to that boarding school. He would come home, weekends, holidays, whenever. His father never knew he did, and he never told him. It’s one of those secrets I told you about. Everybody knows, but nobody says anything about it.” Mandy’s face grew troubled, and her voice quieter and quieter.

Amelia stared at her, curious, yet not wanting to know what made the girl so somber. “What did he do Mandy?” She whispered, the magnitude of the moment weighing them both to quiet whispers and hunched postures.

“He-he would get drunk – and not just a little either. He would get so drunk he wouldn’t remember whom he was, or where he was. Then he would call for a maid, or a serving girl…” She grew quiet and didn’t look up, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

Amelia breathed in sharply, sitting up ramrod straight. “You mean, he would…?” She left it unsaid, but they both knew what she meant.

Miserably, Mandy nodded her face ashen.

Amelia shook her head, her features tight. “I don’t believe it! I won’t! Robert’s one of the sweetest men I know. He would never get that drunk, or do that to a girl. Never!” The conviction was strong in her voice, and Mandy closed her eyes slowly.

Amelia swiftly stood up, tossing her hair pins down on the table in front of the couch. Her face was blank of emotion, or so full of it Mandy couldn’t decipher one from the other. “I think I’m going to go to bed now. Please, leave.”

Mandy slowly rose from the couch and ducked into a deep practiced curtsy before leaving. She numbly navigated the halls until she arrived at a door. It was her only haven, yet she was afraid to enter it

There was a light glowing softly at the cracks in the door so she knocked softly, not wanting to disturb anybody else who could be sleeping.

The door opened silently, and Mandy pushed herself inside without invitation. Defeated, she turned toward Jonas, a tear sliding down her cheek. “She didn’t believe me…” She said softly, her voice painful.



Jonas made to put an arm around her, but she shied away trembling. “Oh Mandy…” He said gently, motioning her to sit on his bed. “You didn’t have to tell her.” He sat at the opposite end of the bed, watching her as she pulled her knees to her chest and softly rocked back and forth, her green eyes staring unseeing at his blankets.

It pained him to see her like this. He hadn’t witnessed it, only heard of it afterward when he found her in the barn, tucked into a corner of the hayloft, sitting just as she was now, trying to forget what the man had done to her. He sat watching her, knowing he couldn’t touch her; the memories were too strong in her mind now. Neither did he say anything; it was better to let her work it out on her own. He could wait until she was ready.



“Tom!” Marty’s voice rang through the stables, making Tom peer out from the stall he was cleaning. Setting his pitchfork against the wall, he skirted the wheelbarrow and stepped down the aisle.

“Yeah?” He called, quickly grabbing one of the two horses Marty was leading. “Need me to drive?” He pulled the horse to a tie and secured him in.

Marty nodded, “Yeah, Copenhagen Sr. wants to go up to Waverly for the day. I’d go, but since Jonas can’t really take care of things by himself, you get to.” He grinned easily, snatching a harness for his horse.

Tom grinned back harnessing the other horse. “Thanks Marty, you make it sound like a real treat.” He laughed dryly. “You get to finish cleaning my stalls then.”

Marty shrugged, “Better than sitting in a coach all day. I expect you won’t get back until after dinner.” He slipped the straps deftly into place and pulled them tight within minutes. Tom took a little longer before he followed Marty to the yard, and they backed the horses between the coach shafts.

Not ten minutes later, Tom pulled up to the front doors of the house, awaiting Copenhagen and a day of doing nothing.

The sky was purple-black when he finally returned. The stars hadn’t come out yet and the western horizon glimmered with red. Yawning faintly, Tom drove back into the stable yard, surprised when Jonas that came to help him un-harness.

“Your shoulder getting better?” He asked, as they picked off the straps.

Jonas shrugged, “Still hurts like no other, but I can use it. I hate to leave you and Marty to do all the work.” He grabbed the harness before it fell to the floor and winced when it pulled his shoulder.

“Jonas, you shouldn’t really be doing that, go get Marty. A week off wouldn’t kill you, or us.” Tom told him, pulling the harness out of his grip.

Jonas sighed, letting him take the straps. “I needed to talk to you, about Amy.” He quieted the horse as it shifted, his gray eyes glancing at Tom.

“Why didn’t you just wait until dinner?” He twisted his mouth sardonically. “Mandy would have loved to heard.”

“Mandy can’t hear. She already knows anyway-”

“She can’t hear, but already knows? That doesn’t make any sense Jonas…” Tom looked over at him, hanging the harnesses on their respective pegs.

“It’s complicated. Let me explain before you start asking questions.” He glanced down the aisle for Marty before he stared talking. “Let’s be blunt here. Copenhagen is a drunk. Before you came, whenever he was here, he drank nearly every night; I’m surprised he hasn’t been poisoned yet. It was really bad, but then he began to molest and rape the maids while he was drunk. We thought he changed, after meeting Lady Amelia, but then the other night when I made you take him out, I’m not sure he was completely drunk, but that’s why I couldn’t let him go into her rooms. He might’ve done something…bad…to Lady Amelia.”

Tom stared at him, his eyebrows trying to climb into his hair. “I don’t know what to say…” He said, clearly at a loss.

Jonas shook his head, “That’s not all. Mandy tried to tell Lady Amelia the other night, about Copenhagen.”

Tom slowly picked up a brush and ran it down the horse’s back absent-mindedly, his mind on what Jonas had said. “What did Amy do?”

Jonas shook his head slowly. “She didn’t believe her. I don’t know what she said. Mandy didn’t really say anything afterward.”

Tom glanced at Jonas’ bowed head, feeling that he wasn’t saying something. He didn’t press him though, there was too much on his mind now.

They went to dinner without saying anything, sliding into their usual table silently. Mandy joined them moments later, giving a soft hello and little else. She didn’t bother to get any food as she sat next to Jonas, pressing close to him and closing her eyes.

Jonas looked at her, and hesitantly settled and arm around her. Tom watched him, wondering if they had gotten in a fight or something. Neither was their usual self.

“Mandy,” Tom began, blinking as she looked up. “Can you get me into Amy’s room?”

Mandy stared at him, “Why?” Her green eyes were confused.

Tom hadn’t expected the question. He shifted, “Well, whatever you told her last night didn’t work…she has to believe somebody. She can’t marry him, especially if he’s like that. I guess I’m the only one she’d believe.”

“I thought you wanted her to marry him?” Mandy challenged, “I thought I was the only one trying to keep her away from him.”

Tom bit his lip. “Why’d you tell her that, after I told you I wanted to stay away and forget everything?”

Mandy looked down and then glanced at Jonas. “Jonas told you right, what he used to do…to the maids…?”

Tom nodded.

“I couldn’t let him do that to her. I know what he’s like…” She drew a shuddering breath. “I was one of those maids, I just couldn’t let him do that to Lady Amelia. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever served, or ever met. You deserve her more than Lord Copenhagen does.” She shook her head and grew quiet.

Tom stared at her, aghast. “He…to you…?” Jonas gave him a warning glance and shook his head, wrapping his other arm around her. Slowly Tom stood up, leaving his dinner uneaten on the table. Letting go of the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, he left the kitchens. He needed space to think.



“Mandy, can you get me into Amy’s rooms?” She had never answered his question the night before, and he still wanted to talk to her.

“Tom, you can’t…she left this morning. She’s went back home. I have no idea when she’ll be back, or if she’ll just go straight back to that school.

Tom groaned, pushing his dark hair off his forehead vehemently. He shook his head, “I swear, I have the absolute worst luck of anyone.” He turned, “Thanks anyway Mandy…” He told her, then dog-trotted through the halls, taking a shortcut through the gardens on his way to the barn. He paused nearly half-way through, hearing strange voices. Slowing his steps and moving quietly – it wuoldn’t do for him to be caught where the servants weren’t allowed - he tiptoed by. The familiar voice of Copenhagen Sr. made him pause and listen, and then stand stock still as he heard what they were saying.

“Things are going as you suggested?” The woman’s voice was strict, pompous-like.

The man’s voice was that of Lord Copenhagen II. “Of course, milady. Robert plans to propose when she returns. She will be allowed to come here for a short while, right? Pretend it is on the way, I doubt she will know the difference. Perhaps they came eat dinner, if there needs to be an excuse.”

Silently he crept up toward one of the hedges. Tom pushed the branches of a bush quietly aside, peering out on the two as they sat in a small alcove.

The severe looking lady had a smile on her face, “It sounds perfect. Oh, I can’t wait until the wedding.” She smiled grimly and laughed softly. “This is wonderful, thank you for letting me, oh, use your son like that…”

Copenhagen Sr. returned a chuckle. “It is not like he would get married any other way. I’m afraid his “extra-curricular” activities would scare any other woman away.”

The woman with him stiffened. “He’s not returning to those habits yet, is he? That would scare her away faster than anything. She comes from a small town, you must remember, with strict morals.”

Copenhagen Sr. waved a hand loftily. “Never worry, he’s knows just how important this is as well.” He immediately changed the subject, “She won’t need to finish school then, right? Once they’re married, it wouldn’t be right to separate them like that.”

“Of course not. I’ll explain to her that a married lady is set in the world and no longer needs an education and what not. She’ll lap it up.” The woman laughed lightly, and stood up. “I must be going though, thank you for everything.”

Copenhagen stood up easily beside her, offering her his arm. “Let me escort you to your carriage then at least.” Tom let the bushes snap back in place after they disappeared from sight. He glanced at the green leaves before turning, and nearly sprinting for the stables. If he was lucky, he could still catch her.

He pulled one of the better-bred hunters out of their stall, murmuring soothingly to it when it spooked at his fast actions. He had it saddled in under five minutes, and was swinging up on its back when Jonas came into the yard.

“Tom! What are you...?” He stared at Tom for a moment, before quickly going over and grabbing the reins from him. “Where are you going?”

Tom shifted, making the horse under him begin to walk forward. Jonas pulled it back with a disgruntled noise. “Look, Jonas, the whole thing was a hoax. Copenhagen has no interest in her at all. I don’t know what the lady has in for it, but it’s all set up, her marriage, their friendship, everything. And he’s going to propose to her. I have to try and talk to her now, before Copenhagen has a chance to do anything. Make up whatever you want to tell Marty, or tell him the truth, I don’t care any more.” He roughly pulled the horse’s head sideways out of Jonas’ grip and kicked it down the path that led to the drive and the road.

Settling himself, he pushed the horse into a fast trot, glancing at the horizon line and hoping he could make it before dark. The chill air and the coarse horsehair stung his face, but he looked forward relentlessly. Gritting his teeth, he pressed the horse into a canter. The horse could hopefully keep it up; he hadn’t taken one of the better ones for no reason.

His face was close to numb when the silhouettes of the towns’ buildings came into view. Startled at the time that had passed, he checked the horse beneath him. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised that its strides were a little jagged, settling somewhere between a trot and canter, and its breath labored. He eased up on it a little, and it came to a fast walk as they entered the town. Just barely, he had beaten sunset

He went immediately to his father’s house and pounded on the door.

His father opened the door, his face tightening when he saw Tom.

Tom didn’t give him a chance to say anything. He shoved the reins of the horse at his father. “Look, you’re the person who knows horses best in this town. Take care of this one, I think I’ll need it really soon.” He glanced at his father, his eyes pleaded. “Please.”

His father grunted, tying the horse to the side of their house. “Let me put on my boots.”

Tom heaved a sigh of relief and turned. He fled to the Foster’s house, his fist reaching out to beat on the door before his feet had stopped moving.

“Katie!” He exclaimed as she pulled open the door. “Where-”

“Tom! You look dreadful! Katie, let him in, Tom, come in and sit down.” Rose, Amy’s mother beckoned him in and shut the door behind him.

“Miss Foster, where’s Amy?” Tom finally got in around her trying to take his coat off.

She paused, “Amy? Tom, is something wrong? Surely you didn’t come all the way down here just to talk to her!” Rose exclaimed, staring at him.

Tom disregarded her question. “Where is she? I have to talk to her.”

“I’m sorry Tom; she left over an hour ago…Is there something I can do?” Rose looked worried. Katie stood back a few steps and just watched, wide-eyed.

Tom fell into the chair beside him, rubbing a hand through his hair. Slowly he shook his head, “No…no, there’s nothing you can do.” He immediately stood back up, shrugging on his coat. “Thanks anyway Miss Foster. I’ve got to be going.”

He held the horse at a slow trot on the way back, knowing it couldn’t have gone any faster. Despondently, he rode into the stable yard in the dark and began to remove the horse’s tack.

“Tom!” Jonas cried. “If only you would have stayed. You must’ve passed her on the road or something,” Jonas looked disheartened.

Tom groaned. “I wasn’t even paying attention. Marty would have been driving too! God,” He pressed his hand to his face with a sigh. “I am so stupid sometimes!” He berated himself.

Jonas grabbed the horse from him. “Go find Mandy, she’ll figure something out. Lady Amelia’s still here at any rate. If you can sneak through halls, I’d say go down to the guest wing, you might catch Mandy there.”

“Thanks…” Tom said and hurried off.

He took a path through the gardens, pausing as familiar voices drifted to his ears.



“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Surprise must have shown in her blue eyes as she looked at him because he held up a hand, “Nothing bad, I promise. In fact, it’s rather good.”

“Alright then, let’s talk.” She sat on a stone bench surrounded by hedges, with a fountain in front of it. For a moment, she watched the water fall into the pond below from the tips of a stone angel’s wings before turning to Lord Copenhagen. “What did you want to talk about?”

He sat next to her, twisting his torso around to face her and began. “I take it you’ve heard why you came with me to the dance?” His brilliant green eyes watched her face, and she gave a noncommittal motion.

“All the girls were invited by somebody. Miss Scarlet usually arranges them,” Then it dawned on her, “She didn’t arrange for me to come with you?”

His lips twisted in speculation. “Not exactly, my father had more to do with it than her I believe.”

“Your father?” Amelia asked, unsuccessfully trying to peer through the hedge at a sudden noise behind her before turning back to him.

“The reason I was to take you to the dance is because my father wishes for us to marry.” He paused, and when she didn’t say anything, continued talking. “My father has planned many marriages for me, most of which I convinced him otherwise on the matter. In this case, from what he told me in a letter, he hadn’t realized Lord Montgomery had any relatives besides Lady Scarlet. Thankfully, he agreed on the point that she was too old for me. But anyway, he had always wanted to extend his estates, and the land that Lord Montgomery is willing to offer as your dowry is directly bordering ours, and are quite extensive. He pledged to me that I should marry you, to please him, seeing as in his eyes, I haven’t been the exactly perfect son he wanted.

“So I agreed in part, under the condition I would be allowed to settle the engagement on my own terms. That I would be allowed to get to know her first and if I didn’t like what I found, save both me and the girl from disappointment.”

Amelia had a sudden fluttering sensation somewhere near her middle, and she bit her lip apprehensively as he continued.

“But I think this time, I am going to be “daddy’s little boy”. The girl he picked out for me I like, she’s gorgeous and considerate.” He shook his head, laughing at himself, and then looked up at her, “I guess what all my rambling was meant to mean, is Amelia Montgomery, will you marry me?”

“Oh, my…” Amelia met Robert’s infinitely green eyes, a turmoil of emotions bursting through her. Slowly, she began to smile, and picked up his hand. “Robert, I’d…”

Robert smiled, taking her other hand and held them together, smiling, “Yes?”

Amelia however wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes rested just beyond his shoulder, at the entrance to the small private place in the garden, wide and astonished. “Tom…” She breathed nearly silently, and Lord Copenhagen turned, his beautiful face growing angry.

Beside the hedge stood his driver, whose face was caught between loss and hate. He stood there, saying nothing, just staring at Amelia.



Swiftly, before Copenhagen Jr. could reprimand him for being out of place, he turned and nearly sprinted away.

“Tom!” He heard Amy’s voice call out behind him, but he abruptly turned a corner and took a shortcut into the house and down to the servant’s hall. If he had any luck at all left, Jonas and Mandy would be in Jonas’ room.

He pounded lightly on the door and Jonas pulled it open, immediately ushering him in at the look on his face.

“What happened? Something bad happened didn’t it?” Mandy was perched on the corner of Jonas’ bed, and Tom sat on Jonas’ trunk with a sigh.

“She accepted.”

Mandy clasped a hand across her mouth and Jonas cursed.

Tom put his head in his hands, “I was stupid, stubborn, and now I’m too late.” He stood up and reached to open the door.

“There’s nothing you can do?” Jonas asked quietly, making him pause.

Tom shook his head, “She’ll be so up in the air, even if I were to talk to her, it wouldn’t make a difference. And she’s leaving for Ferndale tomorrow morning.” He pulled the door open and then turned. “Jonas, tell Marty I’m sick and he’ll have to drive her out there. I’m guessing she’s going to take Copenhagen with her…” He muttered darkly under his breath and shut the door a little louder than he intended.



Dear Diary,
I did it. I can’t believe it. I have no idea what I should be feeling, but should it really be this? I’m happy, but I feel like crying at the same time. Did I do the right thing? Oh…I don’t know. It’ll be good to get back into the routine at school again - I’ve missed it. Dare I say I’ve grown fond of the girls there too? It seems funny, we don’t even get along all that great, but I miss them. I’m writing as I sit in the carriage on the way home, and I’m afraid the motion and concentrating on writing is making me sick to my stomach, so good-bye for now.



Amelia gently shut the book, her forehead creasing in surprise when a folded paper fell from the back. Frowning, she picked it up, and unfolded it. The ghost of a smile began to pass over her lips as she read it. It was the only letter she had ever received from Tom. Quickly, she read it again and slowly the smile faded away to a frown. She tucked the paper back inside her diary and dropped it into one of the bags by her feet.

She gave a soft thank you to the driver, who she noted with disappointment wasn’t Tom. Then she went up the steps to the front door of the Montgomery’s, and a servant pulled open the door for her.

Her jaw nearly dropped as she stepped into the entranceway. Kathryn, Maryanne and Elizabeth all stood there. With Miss Scarlet nonetheless!

“Welcome home!” Kathryn exclaimed, going forward to hug her. Maryanne and Elizabeth quickly followed suit, and Amelia numbly hugged them back.

“Aren’t there classes today?” Amelia asked, glancing to the smiling Miss Scarlet.

“Well, I thought it would be nice if we all came and congratulated you,” Miss Scarlet said, her eyes glinting. “You know what happened?” Amelia asked her, dumbfounded. Brushing a curl away from her face, she glanced at the three girls, who’s smiles grew.

“I’ve been in touch with Lord Copenhagen’s father.” Miss Scarlet said, her smile broadening. “Why don’t you go settle your stuff and change into something more comfortable for lunch, and we’ll talk then.”

The three girls quickly curtsied before Miss Scarlet left, and then they took Amelia by the arms and propelled her along the halls toward her rooms, bombarding her with questions.

“Now you two go to lunch, I’ll help Amelia get settled. It really doesn’t take more than two you know.” Kathryn insisted, shooing the other girls off as they reached their hallway. The reluctantly agreed to go, and Kathryn turned to Amelia, her smile disappearing.

“Amelia, I have to confess something…” She began, and Amelia stopped to turn and listen to her. “I let somebody in your rooms…” She bit her lip, looking like she had done the most horrible thing in the world.

“Well, who was it?” Amelia asked, walking forward again.

Kathryn cast her brown eyes on the floor, “I don’t know who it is…he helped to carry your bags in. Oh, but if you only could have heard his story! I had to let him talk to you Amelia!”

“He? Kathryn! You know if Miss Scarlet were to come, we’d be expelled?” Amelia quickened her pace, and reached out to the door handle.

Kathryn grabbed her wrist. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. You go to lunch and I’ll get him out, then if I get caught, you can still finish school.” She looked close to tears.

“Kathryn, don’t cry, you’ll smudge your makeup.” Amelia told her, and took her by the shoulders, turning her down the hall. “Its okay, I’ll be fine, you go to lunch and I’ll be down after I change.”

“But, the man…”

“You’ll not worry about him.” Amelia instructed her, giving her a soft push down the hall. After a last feeble protest, Kathryn acquiesced.

Amelia gently turned the door handle, opening the door as quietly as possible.

A dark haired man sat perched on her windowsill, a soft smile touching his features. A small book was between his hands – her diary. He wore the dark brown livery of the Copenhagen’s, and didn’t seem to notice the door opening. Every so often, he would turn a page with a careful hand, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.

Amelia leaned against the doorframe, smiling. She was happy just to stand and watch him.

He brushed a hand through his dark hair, his hazel eyes glancing out the window.

“You know, it’s not considered polite to read other people’s diaries…” Amelia commented quietly.

He started, and his eyes came around to rest on hers. Slowly, a broad smile spread across his face. He dropped her book on the small stand beside her bed and crossed the room in three steps. Reaching out, he took her in his arms.

“Amy-Anne, I love you.” He stated firmly, and then kissed her.



Dear Diary,
I haven’t written in here for nearly a year. I suppose you got lost in all the packing and unpacking, but never fear, I found you! I’m guessing you want an update on what all has happened since I last wrote. Needless to say, I never did go to lunch with Kathryn. Tom and I left, and I don’t think anybody noticed I was gone until later that afternoon

. The driver who had driven me there was still waiting outside; evidently, Tom was friends with him. He drove us back to Ferndale, and we lived there for about a month after we got married. I would have been happy to live there forever, but one day, a lawyer showed up on our doorstep. Evidently, even though I had left the school, and not married Lord Copenhagen, I still had every right to the land Uncle had left me. He had also left me nearly half of the inheritance. I heard Miss Scarlet wasn’t too happy about that, but I haven’t talked to her since I left the school.

The land Uncle gave us is quite extensive, and we could have had a fairly large farm, except the land is terrible for growing any sort of thing except the short grasses that seem to grow year round. So Tom decided we’d try our hand at raising horses. He bought a good stallion just the other day, and a man he knows named Marty offered us a few good mares. In the spring, we’re expecting babies! I’m so excited!

The barns were finished about two months ago, and they’ve almost finished building our house. It’s quite large, and I told Tom that since the house was so big, we needed a big family to fill it. It didn’t take very long to persuade him into that one. He refused to have a staff of servants, but I talked him into hiring a cook and two personal servants. Now he wants to hire a man to work at the barn, one of his friends named Jonas.

I didn’t realize that Jonas was the same man as the groom who had gotten hurt while I was at Copenhagen’s. (I had to read through the diary to figure that out!) But it is, and so Jonas is probably going to come and work with Tom breeding horses. It made me laugh, Jonas’ only demand was that he be allowed to bring his wife-to-be with him. I couldn’t refuse him! Mandy and I have become close since Tom and Jonas began to talk horses together.

The Copenhagen’s and Miss Scarlet are both doing well. I haven’t spoken to either of them since I left the Montgomery’s last year, and I don’t want to. I have no reason to see either of them. Lord Copenhagen’s drinking problem still seems to be a secret, as nobody talks about it. Miss Scarlet still teaches school, and Kathryn still lives there. She often comes out to my home and we go riding. She always claims she’ll be the next to get married, but I doubt that. Her dream is to marry a renegade prince and become queen and restore peace to a land. It’ll never happen. But we have fun making up the stories anyway. I’ve finally convinced her and others to call me Amy as well. I hate the name Amelia. I think it helps that that’s what Tom calls me.

I’ve finally reached the last page of my diary. I feel like I should be writing The End at the bottom of the page, but I won’t. I just glanced out the window, and it’s snowing outside! The first snow of the year! I bet I could convince Tom to go for a ride with me. We can’t go faster than a walk, since we don’t want to hurt the mares, but that’s okay. I have the same reason they don’t want to go any faster. Since I’ve reached the bottom of the last page, I’ll say good-bye for the last time. Good-bye,
Amy-Anne



The End