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A melia was a little concerned by the dampness of the grass but only because her packing had left something to be desired.

She really ought to have paid more attention to the possibilities of a weekend away such as this, but she’d been so caught up in matchmaking Sir Frederick with someone blonde and petite that she’d not paid too much thought to her own style and clothing choices other than the requisite costume for the ghost party they were currently undertaking.

So, she therefore lagged a little as Miss Playford strode ahead with Sir Frederick just behind her.

He stopped and turned to see what was holding Amelia up and when he saw she was picking her way delicately through the grass, demanded, “Surely you’ve brought more than one pair of dancing slippers with you, Miss Fairchild?

My apologies, I thought you’d agreed your footwear was sufficiently sturdy and not some exquisite confection of silk and satin likely to be ruined on the grass.

You did not strike me as that kind of young lady. ”

“I don’t know what kind of young lady I strike you as, Sir Frederick, but no, I do not have another pair of slippers and nor can I outlay upon another pair if these are to be ruined.”

“Then allow me to rectify the problem for the last ten yards to the maze where the gravel paths are of the finest sand and represent less of a threat,” he said, striding back to where she was and scooping her up into his arms.

Amelia squeaked in shock, covering her mouth so as not to attract Miss Playford’s attention. “You really have no need, Sir Frederick,” she whispered. “This is highly improper.”

“Is it? Why? I’m serving a purely practical purpose.”

Amelia was unable to reply. She’d never felt a strong manly chest against her cheek since Thomas had died, and she’d not expected she ever would.

She’d certainly not expected to feel anything other than embarrassed outrage at the experience but even more embarrassing and disconcerting was that what she felt sent thrills through her whole body.

And even more dismaying than that was her sense of loss when he put her down and strode onwards to catch up with Miss Playford.

So, he really was being only gentlemanly? It’s what she should hope for, she thought, as she hurried to keep up with the other two who were navigating the maze. She really didn’t want to get lost and find herself marooned in the dark.

She heard them exchange a few words and then Sir Frederick’s laugh.

Good, perhaps Amelia’s plan was starting to work, now that Sir Frederick was gaining a broader appreciation of Miss Playford.

And though it was foolish to feel a pang, it was only to be expected as a sort of swan song for any hopes she might entertain for a husband and family.

While she might enjoy the family, she knew she had not the temperament to play handmaiden to a demanding husband for the rest of her life. She’d seen too many examples of how easily that could go wrong. Miss Playford was correct when she said she she’d seen few examples of couples happily wed.

An owl hooted in a tree nearby and Amelia looked up to the inky sky, the golden moon bathing the world in a magical light. She heard the voices of her companions but could not see them when she turned a corner, halting her footsteps as she realized they’d gone and were out of earshot.

She really should hurry to catch up.

But rounding a corner, she realized she was at a dead end. Foolishly, she’d taken the wrong path.

It was an easy mistake but one which she must rectify quickly to avoid embarrassment.

However, after picking up her skirts and dashing the length of the path before it reached the corner of the yew hedge, she realized she was even more lost for there was yet another dead end.

“Miss Fairchild!”

She heard both Miss Playford and Sir Frederick calling for her and balled her hands into fists as she forced herself to answer, shame making her hot. She was only glad they couldn’t see her embarrassment for she blushed so very violently when her pride was on a pike.

“I’m here!” she called, hearing their footsteps which sounded on the other side of the hedge. “Right here!” she called in relief for they were very close.

“Can you find your way through to where we are, or would you like to stay still and we’ll find you?”

“I’m sure I can find you with little trouble,” she said, not hiding the exasperation in her voice. Of course she could.

But after some minutes more, there was nothing she could do but admit defeat. Not that she intended to do so in so many words. However, when Sir Frederick said, “I think you should not move, Miss Fairchild. Miss Playford and I will rescue you.”

Rescue me, thought Amelia in disgust. She’d never needed rescuing in her life, and she certainly didn’t need Sir Frederick to think he was playing the gallant knight in shining armor.

Yet, she couldn’t put her words into thoughts, muttering only an ungrateful “all right, I’ll stay right here” before, within a few seconds, the others were rounding the corner and saying gleefully, “Here you are! And what’s more, we’ve found the final clue. Come with us and we’ll show you.”

If they sensed she was vexed, they didn’t show it, and when Amelia reached the statue in the very center of the maze and saw the inscription at the bottom, her annoyance at herself had dissolved and she easily congratulated them as she read:

“Though warned to stay away, you must be brave,

For in the tower, secrets the past did save.

Climb with care, watch your step,

In crumbling stone, the truth is kept.”

Looking up, she asked, “Surely we are not to venture into the tower. It’s unsafe.”

“But I believe I know another way to access it that is not via the crumbling stairs, for assuredly they are unsafe. I believe Lady Pendleton intended for us to have this clue since she knows how familiar I am with the castle.”

“First we have to get out of here,” said Amelia with a sigh. “Clearly, I have not such a nose for direction as both of you and will have to meekly follow as you lead the way.”

Sir Frederick laughed. He went in front and began to traverse the sandy walkways of the maze. “I can see how heartily you dislike playing the maiden meek and mild.”

“Intensely,” muttered Amelia which made both of the others laugh for some reason, and Miss Playford to say ingenuously, “My aunt says it’s necessary sometimes for a lady to pretend she is far weaker and stupider than she is if a man is to pay her the necessary attention.”

“She sounds very anxious for you to make a match this season,” remarked Amelia. “I would certainly take her advice with a very large grain of salt.”

“So, you have never played on a man’s chivalrous instincts, Miss Fairchild?” asked Sir Frederick. “What about your fiancé? He was a very brave man. Surely you were not quite so fierce and independent all those years ago?”

Amelia gasped. How could he speak of Thomas with such lightheartedness? Even her nearest and dearest knew it was a topic that could not be broached without the greatest delicacy.

At her silence, Sir Frederick turned to look at her, raising his eyebrows as he obviously saw her expression. “My apologies if I spoke carelessly, Miss Fairchild. As it has been more than five years, I had thought it safe to think you’d accepted the past.”

Again, how could Sir Frederick speak as if Thomas’s death were something she could ever accept.

Frostily, she said, “It’s all very well for you, who did not endure the horrors of war.

Thomas’s sacrifice is something that of course I have to accept but there is no other man who can come close to equaling him in honor and nobility.

It is one of the reasons I intend retiring to the country. ”

“Once you’ve come into your inheritance?

” Miss Playford clarified. “How fortunate you are to have an inheritance. I have no dowry, but it is my aunt’s hope that as my late father was a war hero, this can be overlooked.

She says my connections are good and that I’m fair enough of face to warrant some attention. ”

Her disclosure was so artless that Amelia felt a wave of shame to have spoken earlier in such a maudlin and defensive fashion.

She should have recalled that Miss Playford’s father had been recognized as a war hero, fighting by the side of the great Admiral Nelson, that hero of the country, though Rear Admiral Nathaniel Playford had died some years later.

“I suppose I can understand your feelings, though,” Miss Playford went on, “for my mother died of grief some months after Papa’s death, which left me in the care of my aunt who really could have done without such a responsibility, she’s always told me.

That’s why I intend to make a match this season since she doesn’t want the burden of me too much longer. ”

“You must be discerning,” Amelia cautioned, suddenly worried as she drew level with Miss Playford. “Marriage is a lifelong contract. It is not something to rush into.”

“I really see no alternative,” said Miss Playford. “While I am here, I will meet many potential husbands. My aunt has pointed many of them out to me already.”

Amelia noticed that her glance at Sir Frederick was fleeting. Did she wonder if she had a chance with him?

Did she?

Amelia squared her shoulders. Miss Playford and Sir Frederick would make an excellent pair, she thought with even greater determination.

Sir Frederick simply didn’t know it yet.