Chosen by the Lieutenant
Author
Anne Herries
Reads
16,2K
Chapters
19
Prologue
Amanda Hamilton looked at her reflection in the long mirror in her dressing room and sighed, for she was no beauty. Of what use to be an heiress and have three proposals from fortune-hunters in the last month when she was what could be indelicately described as overweight? And at a time when the fashion was for sylphs and girls who looked as if a puff of wind would blow them away!
If only she did not have such a sweet tooth or was some inches taller! On a taller girl her inches might have looked impressive, for she had a well-formed bust and good hips, which many gentlemen liked, but Amanda was tiny. Papa was at fault for he had spoiled her when she was a small child, giving her sweetmeats and cakes and petting her, forming her appetite for the sticky sweet things that had proved her downfall.
Although her dark hair was glossy and her grey eyes bright and fearless, what man could truly want such a dumpling for a wife? Her face was too plump and had therefore lost the pretty shape that should be hers and she thought herself plain and dowdy, despite all the money spent on her clothes. So how could she ever expect to find the man of her dreams?
Oh, there were several who paid court to her and she’d received many offers this Season, but none of the gentlemen who had spoken wanted her for herself. Nor would they have been acceptable to Papa. Lord Neville Hamilton required a gentleman who could give his daughter the lifestyle she was accustomed to, though she knew that if she’d cared for any of her suitors Papa would have given in to her wishes in the end. None of them had caused Amanda to lose a wink of sleep and that was because her heart was already given to a man she’d loved from the first time he’d smiled at her.
Lieutenant Peter Phipps: the second son of Lord Richard Piper, and quite the kindest gentleman that Amanda had ever been privileged to meet. Phipps, as his friends called him, was kind enough to dance with her at a country-house ball when she’d been sitting for more than an hour, unnoticed by most of the gentlemen present. At that time her fortune had been modest, for Amanda had an elder brother, Robert, who would naturally inherit Papa’s estate. However, just a year after that fateful affair when Amanda had lost her heart, Great-aunt Mariah Howard had died and left her entire fortune to her favourite great-niece, much to the chagrin of several other nieces and nephews who might have had hopes of Lady Howard.
It seemed that some gentlemen who had found Amanda invisible a year ago were now eager to engage her attention. Several had already proposed marriage and, if she were not mistaken, another young man was about to do so. But, perversely, the one gentleman she would have married, regardless of whether he truly loved her or not, had given her no indication that he was preparing to make her an offer—even though he was unfailingly kind and always stopped to speak to her or stood up with her if she lacked partners.
Amanda was a clever girl, something she did her best to keep hidden, because as Mama had once told her, gentlemen did not care for knowing girls. Papa might be proud of her skills at drawing, French, Latin and mathematics, as well as some knowledge of the sciences, but Mama said it was all useless learning. Mama preferred her daughter to be skilled at needlework, which she was, and to be able to quote from various poets; to play the pianoforte and the harp, and to sing prettily were all essential for a young lady of her class. Amanda could do all those things. She also had a keen sense of humour, as did Papa, though Mama could not always see why they laughed at something, for she did not share their amusement in the absurd.
Mama said ladies needed a husband to provide them with children and a good home, but after that it was sensible to find one’s own interests and leave the gentlemen to pursue whatever course they chose.
‘Oh, you foolish, foolish girl,’ Amanda said to her reflection and amusement lit the grey eyes. ‘To be hankering after a man just because he is kind and always thinks of your feelings. It is ridiculous and you should put him right out of your mind. He may be kind, but he is not in love with you.’
How could he be in love with the girl she’d seen in her mirror? No man wanted a dumpling as his wife—especially one as tall and handsome as Phipps. She was an idiot to think about it and must accept that she would probably be an old maid and stay at home to look after Papa—and he would not mind at all.
Amanda felt better and laughed, her face lighting up as she saw the funny side of her predicament. Lieutenant Phipps was in financial difficulty. She had always known that as a second son he would inherit only a small estate from his grandmother, which was situated not more than sixty miles from Papa’s estate, and his younger son’s portion from his father. If he wished to continue the lifestyle he so clearly enjoyed, visiting the clubs and mixing in society, he must marry an heiress. So why not her?
‘Because you are fat,’ Amanda told her reflection severely. ‘If you were not so greedy, you would be like a waif and he would fall in love with you!’
She must renew her efforts to lose weight. Always her own worst critic, Amanda told herself off regularly, and indeed, she did try, but when one went to so many parties and was offered such delicious trifles, it was so hard to refuse. Besides, even if she did manage to lose weight, she could never look like the beautiful Miss Cynthia Langton. Lord Langton’s daughter was the latest heiress to come to London and was quite the haughtiest of all the beautiful young ladies this Season. Most of the unattached gentleman had flocked to her train and Amanda had seen several young ladies give her glances that, had they been daggers, would undoubtedly have slain the new arrival.
Strangely, Miss Langton had taken a fancy to Amanda. She did not have many female friends, even though her cousins Sara and Jennifer were in town and included her in their party as a matter of course. However, Amanda had been of assistance to the beauty when a flounce on the hem of her expensive Paris gown had been torn. Always equipped with a needle and thread at parties, Amanda had advised her of the tear, taken her into a private salon and repaired it so neatly that no one could see it had ever been torn. Miss Langton had attached herself to her saviour at every possible occasion after that, calling her my dearest Amanda and begging her to call her Cynthia.
Thus, Amanda was always invited to any parties her friend’s family gave, was invariably taken on all the outings to theatres, to Vauxhall and the park for a balloon ascension, to every picnic, every drive to Richmond and all the balls, routs or fêtes that Miss Langton attended. It meant that when the two heiresses entered a room together, within minutes at least half the gentlemen present would gravitate to their sides.
Amanda received her share of the attention, but she was not such a fool as not to notice the difference in the homage offered to her friend and the polite attentions given to herself.
None of which she minded at all—indeed, she drew a deal of amusement from watching the various gentlemen try first for Miss Langton’s good graces, and then, when they perceived they were not favoured, for her own. However, her mild amusement had suffered a blow recently when Lieutenant Phipps had entered the fray.
Phipps was one of many suitors the beauty kept in her train, but she did seem to favour him sometimes and that made Amanda’s heart sink. If Cynthia wanted him, she would have him, as she took anything else that caught her fancy, expecting and receiving slavish worship as her right. On the day of a ball, Amanda might expect five or six posies from would-be suitors, but Cynthia was like to receive as many as twenty. She was all the rage and the queen of the Season, and accepted the gentlemen’s homage as her right.
Amanda bore with it all patiently, for she begrudged her friend none of her success, but if Phipps made her an offer and was accepted it would break her heart...
No, how foolish! Amanda laughed at herself. She was no tragedy queen and had always known that in the end she might have to settle for second best. Only if Phipps felt drawn to her, found her necessary to his comfort, would he ever look at her as a prospective bride. It was unlikely to happen, but, since she knew that Cynthia was hoping for at least an earl, he would probably find himself dropped once the right suitor presented himself. If Amanda happened to be around at that time... She shook her head once more.
If it were not so sad, it would be most amusing. Why would the tall and handsome Phipps ever look at a dumpling like her?
