Page 16 of War of the Wedding Wagers
“My dearest William, How my heart aches with each passing moment we are apart. The sun seems dimmer, the air less sweet, and even the horses in the stable lack their usual luster without your presence. I know my father forbids our love—”
Amelia, who’d been staring at the letter, trying to make sense of how it could be the second clue, glanced up to see Sir Frederick frowning at her.
Gently he took the letter from Miss Playford. “This is not the clue,” he said at last.
Amelia looked over his shoulder and gasped. “Look at the signature. It says Pernilla.”
“The ghost?” exclaimed Miss Playford.
“Oh, my goodness,” said Amelia. She bit her lip, torn between wanting to know what it said but knowing such a desire reflected badly on her. She was relieved when Miss Playford said brightly, “Perhaps reading it would help us discover why she’s a ghost.”
“Excellent idea,” said Sir Frederick to Amelia’s surprise. “Would you care to do the honors?”
In a sweet, lilting voice, Miss Playford continued:
“I know my father forbids our love, claiming it an impossibility due to the circumstances of our birth. But surely, my darling, love knows no such boundaries. Your gentle hands, so skilled with the horses, have captured my heart with equal mastery. Your kind eyes and noble spirit reveal a truer nobility than any title could bestow. Theyspeak of my impending marriage to Baron Weatherby as if it were a fate already sealed. But I cannot—I will not—accept a life without you.
Each night, I dream of a world where we are free to love openly, where the only judgment passed upon us is the strength of our devotion. I watch from the tower window, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the stables below. Sometimes, I fancy I can hear your voice carried on the wind, calling out to me.
My love, if only I had wings, I would fly into your arms and never leave. Promise me you’ll find a way for us to be together. I fear my spirit cannot bear this separation much longer. Without you, this gilded cage of privilege feels more a prison with each passing day.
Forever yours, with a love that defies all bounds,
Pernilla.”
She stopped reading and Amelia found she had no words. Embarrassed, she turned her head away so that Sir Frederick would not witness her foolishness, quickly blinking away the tears and clearing her voice before she forced a smile.
To her surprise, she saw that Sir Frederick was frowning as he took both the book and the letter from Miss Playford who said softly, “That’s really sad. That letter is from Lady Pendleton’s great-great aunt Pernilla. The ghost. Do you…” She hesitated. “Do you think we should give it to Lady Pendleton?”
Sir Frederick shook his head. “Let us keep it our secret for the meantime. I don’t think Lady Pendleton is going to be very receptive to more details of her ancestor’s scandalous love affair being publicly aired.”
“Nor do I think it would make her more kindly disposed towards her erring forebear,” said Amelia. “Poor ghostly Pernilla was in love with her father’s groom.”
“Lady Pendleton and the family don’t want to be reminded of this,” said Sir Frederick. “Such a union would have scandalized society.”
“So sad if she was in love with him,” said Miss Playford on a sigh. “He must have been very handsome.”
“Well, handsome looks wouldn’t have kept a roof over her head.” Sir Frederick sounded less charitable as he folded the letter and placed it back in the book. “No doubt she was a foolish child interested only in his manly physique and her head was easily turned. That is no basis for a marriage.”
“I suppose if he had had money it wouldn’t have mattered who he was, where he came from, or how well-connected he was,” said Amelia. “Even if it was new money, I’m sure the family would have relented in the end.” She knew her tone was combative as she moved along the row of romance novels, as she continued the search for the next clue.
“If he was her intellectual equal, I dare say there would not have been the same resistance,” said Sir Frederick. “A lowly groom and a nobleman’s daughter? That really is a bridge too far.”
“Are you saying that money isn’teverything?” Amelia couldn’t help asking, as she pulled out a copy ofPride & Prejudice. If he was to ally himself with Miss Playford it would be helpful if she could have him answer outright in the affirmative.
“Of course it isn’t,” he said, taking the volume from Amelia’s hands and saying with a short laugh, “My sister enjoyed this so greatly she insisted I read it.”
“What did you think?” asked Amelia and was surprised when he gave an unaffected laugh. “I thought the author was a genius for all that I was highly skeptical when I reluctantly read the first page with Caroline breathing over my shoulder in case I should wriggle out of it.”
“You read it to the end?” asked Miss Playford incredulously.
“Indeed, I did. And I’m sure I learned a great deal about human nature, and the minds and motivations of young ladies, that I did not know before.”
“Like what?” asked Amelia.
“Well, now, you are a fiercer and less forgiving Miss Lizzie Bennett with your fine eyes and exacting manner—”
“And who am I?” Miss Playford interrupted before Amelia could object to what she felt was a grave injustice. A fiercer Miss Lizzie Bennett? Why, Amelia was light-hearted and full of fun when people only took the time to know her.
