Amy (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 1) (10 page)

“Oh yes! And a hill — there is so much to be done with a hill. A small stream, perhaps, to meander down it, with pools and rocks and bridges to cross from side to side.”

“What a charming picture! I can see it all, and you must help me design it, Miss Allamont. Ah, here is Miss Endercott now, and your sisters. The young Miss Allamont is tiring, I perceive.”

“Connie is not much of a walker. She dislikes even the walk to church, and this is further, I believe.”

“Oh, Connie, of course,” he murmured under his breath, which puzzled Amy. It was almost as if he’d forgotten Connie’s name.

Stepping forward, he said, “Miss Constance, you are finding the distance taxing, I believe. May I offer you my arm? Or should you prefer to wait in the lodge while I send for the carriage? They will hardly have unhitched the horses yet.”

She smiled up at him. “You are so kind! Thank you. I believe your arm will be sufficient.”

“I am happy to be of service to you. My drive is not long, indeed you may see the house as soon as we pass the first stand of trees. And if Miss Allamont would care to walk on my other side, we may continue our discussion. I must tell you, Miss Constance, that your sister is most knowledgeable on the matter of plants and gardens, and I am shamelessly taking advantage of her expertise to help formulate my own plans.”

In this pleasant way they walked slowly, for Connie was not fast, up the drive and soon came to the house itself. Staynlaw House was a delightful building of mellow red stone, and although it had not the character which attended older properties, with their irregularities and quaint old-fashioned charm, its very newness meant that it lacked no modern conveniences. It was well-proportioned, and furnished in the style fashionable some thirty years before, when Mr Ambleside’s father had first purchased the property.

Amy had been there many times before, and knew the house well, but this was the first time she had visited with the idea in mind that perhaps one day she might be mistress of it. Now she looked about her with new eyes, seeing everywhere a happy blend of comfort with good taste. A larger establishment, like Sir Osborne’s property at Brinford Manor, or even her own home, would be terrifying, but here all was orderly and well-managed, with servants who knew their business and could be depended upon to run the household smoothly. Yes, she could see herself living here. She could even begin to like the idea.

Mr Ambleside had arranged a cold collation to be laid out in the dining room, and the ladies ate and drank and chattered merrily until it was time to leave and the carriages were sent for. Amy spent the drive home in a pleasant glow of excitement. All her anxieties about the future were vanished, for Mr Ambleside loved her and wished to marry her! Such a charming and amiable man — would it not be delightful to be his wife, and be always with him? How happy they would be! It was almost too wonderful to contemplate.

As the carriage bounced along the lanes, if she leaned forward she could just catch a glimpse of his coat and boots as he rode alongside them. And once, he turned his head and saw her watching him, and smiled, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. And she wasn’t embarrassed at all.

This happy state lasted until after dinner, when Miss Bellows retired early to her bed with a sick headache, leaving the sisters alone.

Dulcie cast aside the book of sermons she had been pretending to read. “Was not Mr Ambleside charming today?” she said. “And so attentive to Connie. I am certain you must all have noticed it. She must surely secure him soon.”

All Amy’s pleasure in the day was driven away. She could not say a word, feeling tears begin to prick her eyes, but Belle looked at her with sympathy.

“I am sure I saw no such thing,” she said. “Mr Ambleside’s attentions were all for Amy.”

“Nonsense!” Dulcie cried. “You are just being horrid, Belle. Anyone can see his preference for Connie.”

“I am quite sure of it,” Connie said quietly. “I cannot be mistaken.”

“But you are
greatly
mistaken,” Belle said crossly. “Mr Ambleside has already told Amy that he loves her and intends to offer for her as soon as it is proper. Is it not so, Amy?”

Thus appealed to, she could not deny it.

Dulcie squealed in indignation, but to Amy’s horror, Connie burst into tears. “No, no, no!” was all she could say in her distress, and then, “Oh, Amy, no, how could you!”

“Amy has done nothing,” Belle said sharply. “You have set yourself up for this disappointment, Connie, by allowing your fancy to overtake all reason.”

“But I
love
him!” she wailed. “How can I ever be happy again?”

10: The Contessa

Amy cried all night, and woke, red-eyed and exhausted. She could hardly see her Latin text to translate for Sir Matthew, and in the end he very kindly said, “We will stop there, Amy, for you are a little out of sorts today. You may work on the rest of this section at your own speed, and we can discuss it on Friday. Or…” He paused, with a quick glance at her. “Perhaps, Amy, you might consider whether you wish to continue our lessons, now that your sisters no longer attend. You have enough knowledge to work at the subject on your own, you know, and Miss Bellows will help.”

She could not deny it. Gradually all her sisters had drifted away from their lessons, even Belle, so that most of the time she sat in the schoolroom alone. Papa would be horrified to see the frivolous way the others now passed their days. There were whole mornings when they did nothing but sit and chatter, while pretending to work on a piece of embroidery, or else walked into the village to gossip with their acquaintance and buy ribbons to trim bonnets. Amy could not bring herself to abandon her routine entirely, although she was not quite so strict about timings now that she was spending a great deal of time in the garden, supervising the work on extending the shrubbery. But that was unexceptional, for Papa had approved of such healthful exercise.

“Oh. I beg your pardon, Sir Matthew, I am greatly inconveniencing you. That was selfish of me.”

“Not at all, not at all! I enjoy our reading very much. And today I am most happy to be out of the house, for Lady Graham has determined that the weather is suitable for beating the carpets and there is a great raising of dust everywhere. No, you must not think that I wish to end our lessons. If you are minded to continue, then I am more than ready to assist your endeavours, I do assure you.”

“In that case, if you are sure it is no trouble, I should like to continue.”

She liked Sir Matthew very much. He was a pleasant and kindly man, who never berated her for her inadequacies. She tried hard, no one could say she did not, but sometimes it was so very difficult to remember all the declensions.

After Sir Matthew had left, Amy began work on some sums for Miss Bellows. It was hard to concentrate her mind, for thoughts of Connie and Mr Ambleside would intrude, and then the tears would drip onto the page and blot the ink. At length, Amy threw down her pen, and gave way to her misery again.

Poor Connie! She had misunderstood Mr Ambleside, and convinced herself of his affection. Indeed, they had all been convinced of it, had they not? The visit to Monkswood, the flowers… how easy to think the attention was for Connie. How fitting, too, for Connie was so good-natured, everything that was amiable. What gentleman could fail to be drawn to her? It was perfectly natural. And Mr Ambleside had singled Connie out at Graham House, and in such a particular way! No wonder she had believed he loved her.

How dreadful to be so desperately in love, and then discover that the object of your affection, the man you believed truly loved you, had in fact bestowed his love on another. How could Amy break her beloved sister’s heart by marrying Mr Ambleside? Connie would wither away to nothing, becoming a dried-up old maid like Miss Endercott. All Amy’s pleasure in being married to such a kind man would be destroyed.

But then what of Mr Ambleside? He had set his heart on Amy, and if she refused him, that would make
him
unhappy! Was there no way to resolve the tangle without someone being unhappy? It was all too confusing for words. And so the tears fell.

~~~~~

Lady Sara returned after a full month in London, but the visit seemed to have done her good, for she smiled a great deal and had a rosy bloom in her cheek. Everyone complimented her on her appearance.

“She is in such looks, do you not think?” Amy confided in Belle. “She was too pale before — quite overcome with grief. But I do believe she is beginning to miss poor Papa a little less.”

“Oh indeed,” Belle said. “I think we can agree that she is over the worst of her grief. She is very much in spirits just now. Whatever she has been doing in London, it has agreed with her.”

“She has done nothing but visit the warehouses,” Amy protested, “for look how many bales of material she has brought back. I do not see how
that
would agree with her. I should have been quite worn out, I declare. And poor mama could not have gone out at all, or attended the opera or anything interesting. I daresay it is just the change of air, and the pleasure of seeing Aunt Tilly after so long.”

“Yes, that must be it,” murmured Belle.

But Lady Sara’s revived looks were soon cast aside as a subject for conversation in favour of an even more interesting one. Mr Ambleside, it appeared, had received a visitor he had met during his sojourn in the north.

“So exciting!” Grace exclaimed. “I met Miss Endercott in the village and she told me all about the lady. A contessa from Italy, and a great heiress, would you believe, and accompanied by her chaperon and no less than two tutors. She is on a grand tour of Europe, and Mr Ambleside told her about the county and all its pleasures, so here she is! She is staying at the Royal Oak in Brinchester.”

“I hope she is not going to take Mr Ambleside away,” said Dulcie fiercely. “Connie would be heart-broken.”

“Mr Ambleside has already expressed his preference,” Belle said, frowning. “Besides, we must assume he knows his own mind, and is not so inconstant as that remark implies.”

“He is not in the least inconstant,” Dulcie said, smugly. “So long as Amy does not draw him in, Connie is safe.”

Connie smiled in contentment, and the ladies went back to a discussion of the contessa.

Amy was silent. It was all so puzzling. She could not have misunderstood Mr Ambleside, for he was so particular on the matter.
“I have been in love with you for ever.”
Those were his very words; impossible to mistake his meaning! And he had offered for her three times, until Papa had made it clear he could not succeed and he had gone away, heartbroken. Poor Mr Ambleside.

Yet Dulcie was so sure he had an affection for Connie, and clearly she must be wrong about that. Belle had tried on more than one occasion to convince both Dulcie and Connie that Mr Ambleside’s affections were otherwise, but they would not have it, and the very idea distressed Connie so badly that Belle had given up all attempts of the kind.

It was not long before the sisters met the contessa, for Mr Ambleside himself brought her to visit at Allamont Hall.

“I have the very great pleasure of introducing the contessa to the delights of our neighbourhood,” he said. “She is quite charmed with the woods hereabouts.”

The degree to which she was charmed was difficult to ascertain, however, for not a word did she say throughout the visit. She sat, eyes cast downwards, veiled and half-hidden by the brim of an outlandish bonnet, which must be a foreign style. She whispered frequently to her chaperon, who translated in a strong accent, but even when the sisters practised their Italian to address her directly, she would not reply, merely simpering and murmuring to the chaperon.

Mr Ambleside was much occupied with the contessa, whether talking to her through her chaperon, or talking about her to Lady Sara. As a result, he said nothing at all to Amy beyond the usual enquiries upon her health. She could not decide whether she was relieved or disappointed in that. He also said nothing to Connie, and Amy could not decide her feelings on that point, either. She was very muddled about it all. Her greatest relief was that Mr Ambleside had said he would not pay his addresses formally until she was out of mourning. She had several months in which she need not think about such complicated matters at all.

As for the contessa, Amy did not like to think badly of any friend of Mr Ambleside, but she could not like her at all.

“She is shy, I think,” Belle said, once their callers had left. “I think it rather sweet in her, to be so nervous in company.”

“Perhaps such a quiet manner is admired in Italy,” said Hope.

“Well, I think her very rude!” Grace said. “Not to speak at all, even when we use her own language — that is not at all civil of her. Do you not agree, Mama?”

“Perhaps
la contessa
had nothing to say,” Lady Sara said languidly. “I am going upstairs to rest, girls. If any more callers should come, you may tell them I am too fatigued to see anyone.”

~~~~~

A few days later, with new half-mourning gowns prepared, the sisters received their first dinner invitation, from Sir Matthew and Lady Graham. Lady Graham’s dinners were famous for being very large affairs, to which everyone of consequence in the neighbourhood was invited. 

“For what is the point,” she was frequently heard to say, “of having such a large table in the house if we do not put it to use every once in a while?”

To which her husband invariably responded, “It would not have been so large, my dear, if you had not had it specially made with enormous numbers of extra leaves.” And they both laughed at such a good joke.

The younger sisters were vastly excited to be going out at last, but Amy confided to Belle that she was a little nervous about it. “Everyone will be there,” she said, twisting the skirt of her gown in her fingers. “All our acquaintance at once. We shall not be expected to dance, shall we? Lady Graham always likes to get up a few couples, you know.”

“No, not at all,” Belle said. “It would not be greatly improper, I daresay, amongst our good friends, but you need not do anything that makes you uncomfortable. There will be cards, I expect.”

“So long as there is no playing for money,” Amy said. “Papa disapproved so.”

Any number of fears preyed on Amy’s mind, rendering her sleepless at night and subdued by day. Would Mr Ambleside speak to her? Would the contessa be there? Or Sir Osborne? It would be her first evening engagement since Papa had died. She would be so conscious of his absence. How would she manage without the awareness that he was watching everything she did and measuring her compliance with the standards he himself set? How should she go on without his constant care for her behaviour to guide her? It was terribly worrying.

But in the end, when they arrived in convoy — the smaller carriage leading the big travelling coach — and arrived at Graham House, the first sight to greet them was Cousin Mary alighting from her own carriage.

“Well, this is very pleasant,” she said, tucking one arm into Amy’s and the other into Belle’s. “I had no notion of being on Lady Graham’s list of dinner guests, for I declare I have not been invited here more than twice before in my whole life.”

“I am very glad to see you!” said Amy with feeling. “I have been so nervous about this evening.”

“Why ever should you be? Oh, it is your first venture back into society, of course. But you are quite among friends, dear cousin. You have no cause for concern.”

“Thank you, Mary. I am very glad to hear you say so. But where is James? Does he not escort you?”

She gurgled with merriment. “No, he was not invited. He was quite put out about it, that I should go and not he. But I presume that Lady Graham wished to have more ladies, or else I should not have been here either, I daresay.”

It was the greatest comfort to Amy to have Belle and Mary with her as they walked into Sir Matthew and Lady Graham’s drawing room. At once the reason for Mary’s invitation became clear, for the Grahams’ son and sole heir, Mr George Graham, was surrounded by a gaggle of young men of similarly youthful appearance.

“You see how we are situated,” said Lady Graham, smiling fondly at the gentlemen. “Here we were, settled in our minds that we should have the quietest Easter imaginable, when what does the boy do but descend on us without notice, and accompanied by five of his friends from Oxford. Not a word beforehand! Such a good joke. I daresay it would have quite spoilt the surprise if he had told us about it. He is the greatest tease to me.” She laughed heartily at this.

Amy smiled and said, “How pleasant for you,” but in truth she thought it most inconsiderate to bring so many guests without a word of warning. But she had always considered George a most erratic young man, dashing about here and there on a whim, with no regularity to moderate his sudden fancies, and no steadiness of intention. How he would go on when he left Oxford she could not imagine.

In the general mingling of many guests, Amy did not notice Mr Ambleside’s arrival. She was shocked to find him standing almost beside her, and smiling down at her in such a delightful way, that she could hardly breathe. Impossible to say a single word! He spoke to her, but she could not take in his words. To cover her confusion, she curtsied to him, although she had a suspicion that she had in fact done so already.

“The room is very warm, do you not agree, Miss Allamont?” he said, as if he had noticed nothing odd in her behaviour. “Lady Graham is most generous with her fires, considering the mildness of the weather. There is an open window over there, where it may be a little cooler. May I escort you there?”

He offered her his arm, and she could think of nothing to be done except to take it and allow herself to be led through the crowd and across the room to a spot beside the window. It was indeed cooler, with quite a refreshing breeze, and there they stood, as Mr Ambleside very kindly talked about the weather and the state of the bridge on the Brinchester road and some tale of an escaped pig which, he said, might amuse her. And the whole time, he had firm hold of her arm, his hand resting on hers, so that she could feel the heat even through her gloves, which did not help her confusion in the slightest.