Chapter Two

      She’d dreamed about Nick.

      Amanda came awake as the first golden rays of sunlight streamed into her room. She rolled over and studied the ceiling. If Cecilia’s Aunt Winnie asked her what she’d dreamed about last night, she wouldn’t know what she’d say. She certainly couldn’t tell the woman the truth.

      Settling onto the thick feather pillows, Amanda glanced at the window and the slice of sky visible between the drapes. From all appearances the day was dawning clear and bright. If this weather held, Cecilia would have a perfect June wedding tomorrow. Nothing else was acceptable for a Hastings.

      Today would be filled with last-minute wedding preparations. Cecilia and her mother, Constance—and Amanda, simply because she was present—would probably spend hours going over them.

      “Damn…” Amanda cursed and pounded her pillow. Wedding thoughts were only slightly more undesirable than recollections of Nick and the dream she’d had last night.

      A light rap sounded on her door, and the maid she’d brought with her from San Francisco slipped inside. Dolly was a slight woman, no older than herself, with curly brown hair that frequently sprang from under her white dust cap.

      “My Lord, Miss Amanda, you should see what all’s going on downstairs, even at this hour of the morning. Everybody’s hopping like grease on a hot griddle—just like home, when the twins were getting married,” Dolly said, pushing back the heavy, green floral drapes. “And when I walked by Miss Cecilia’s room just now, I couldn’t help but glance inside. Her mother, Miz Constance, was with her. I can’t say for sure, but I think she was crying.”

      Amanda pushed herself upright in the bed, her first thought to go to Cecilia and see what was wrong. But tears the day before a wedding weren’t uncommon, and Cecilia’s mother was there to comfort her.

      “Are you sorry I brought you down here with me?” Amanda asked.

      “Shoot, no,” Dolly declared, grinning broadly. “I wouldn’t miss this for nothing.”

      While Dolly selected clothing from the closet, Amanda slid out of bed. Even though the house was filled to capacity with out of town guests and relatives, Constance had given Amanda a comfortable room on the second floor.

      Amanda walked to the window, her bare feet silent on the carpet. Outside stretched the mansion’s rear lawn—thick grass, shrubs, flower gardens, a gazebo and towering palm trees.

      “My, it’s pretty here,” Dolly said, joining her at the window. “One of the cooks told me it don’t hardly ever rain down here. Wouldn’t mind living in a place like this.”

      Amanda smiled. “What else did the cook tell you?”

      “Oh, you know, just talk,” she answered. “Mostly about Mr. Nick.”

      “Nick?” Amanda’s breath caught. She forced herself to look unconcerned, hoping Dolly hadn’t noticed. “What about Nick?”

      The young woman grinned dreamily. “How handsome he is. Lordy, he’s a looker, according to all the maids. And just as nice as the day is long. Good to his mama, generous with the staff.”

      Amanda’s heart lurched. She wasn’t surprised to hear any of those things about him.

      “I’m plum crazy about him already, and I haven’t even laid eyes on him yet.” Dolly grinned. “’Course, that’s nothing you don’t already know, I’m sure, seeing as how you’ve been friends with him for so long.”

      “Actually, I haven’t seen Nick in years,” Amanda said.

      Ten years. Since that night in the snow…

      “Oh, really? Well, how come?” the maid asked. “I thought your families had been friends since way back.”

      Dolly had come to work for the Van Pattons only a year ago, so she didn’t know all the family history. Surprising, given how the servants liked to talk.

      “That’s just the way things worked out,” Amanda said, and turned away.

      “Now, if you don’t mind me saying so, Miz Amanda, there’s a story here you’re not telling,” Dolly said.

      Amanda smiled. Dolly was so intuitive she seldom got away with anything around her. She could have simply said that she didn’t want to talk about it, and the maid would have respected her privacy—and remembered her place. But since Dolly had come to the Van Patton household, Amanda found she was more comfortable talking to her than her cousins, aunt or friends.

      So telling her now what had happened ten years ago might be just what she needed to put it in perspective, Amanda decided. She’d have to face Nick over the next few days. Perhaps this would help her prepare—and keep her from making a fool of herself.

      “It was the autumn I turned fourteen,” Amanda said. “Only six months before that I’d been shipped off to the Van Patton home by my mother, who could no longer care for me after my father’s death.”

      She didn’t need to tell Dolly that she’d been born into a distant, poorly regarded branch of the Van Patton family, or that Uncle Philip and Aunt Veronica had agreed to take her in. Amanda was quite certain the servants had already told that part of the story.

      “It was a difficult adjustment for me,” Amanda said, but that didn’t begin to describe the problems she’d struggled with.

      Etiquette, table manners, conducting herself with proper decorum. Living up to her aunt and uncle’s expectations. Living down her past.

      Everything had been uncomfortable. The opulence of their home, the servants, the family meals.

      “On top of that,” Amanda said, “I’d suffered through a growing spurt and shot up five inches. I changed, matured. I had long, ungainly arms and legs I didn’t know quite what to do with. Nothing I wore seemed to fit right.”

      “Lordy-me,