The Virtuous Ward - By Karla Darcy Page 0,6

Red hair, freckles and pale white skin on a tall frame were not in vogue, Amity thought, wrinkling her tip-tilted nose in dismay. She could but hope that she would make a better impression on him than she had the first time.

Amity could remember her one and only interview with her guardian. The evening of her parents' funeral, after all the mourners had left, she had been called to the library to meet with Lord Max. Although she had seen him during the day, there had been so many people milling around the manor house that she had not spoken to him except to receive his condolences.

Closing her eyes, Amity could bring back the scene in the library with total clarity. Max had been sitting at her father's desk, dressed in his funeral black, face composed into the expected sober lines. He had looked up when she entered the room as though he expected her to break into tears or fall down in a fit. Amity recalled forcing herself to remain expressionless although inside she was quaking with fear and loneliness. She would have liked nothing better than to curl up on his lap and place her head on his chest and feel the warmth of his arms around her. Perhaps if he had been older, but Max was a young man forced to take on the responsibility of a ten year old girl. He would be embarrassed at such a display of emotion. So Amity had composed her expression and waited with anticipation for him to explain his plans for her.

As Max surveyed her from her flyaway red curls to her scuffed half boots, Amity could see equal parts of disappointment and distaste mirrored in the green depths of his eyes. She had straightened her spine and shrugged away the suspicion of tears that threatened to rain down her cheeks. By her bravery alone she hoped to prove her worthiness. But all her stratagems were to no avail. She would have no new home. Max was leaving her at Beech House where she had been born and had lived for ten years.

After Max became her guardian, and despite her original disappointment, Amity began to hope that her life would change for the better. For two years she had looked forward to Christmas when she assumed that he would invite her to his home residence so she might partake of the festivities among family and friends. There had been no invitation, just a holiday-wrapped box of books. As the third Christmas arrived she had buried her hopes, determined to create her own memories instead of depending on others. From then on she was able to open, without anger or frustration, the box of books Max sent as a suitable present. She found amusement in his choice of self-improvement books and chuckled at their reading.

Aside from the Christmas books, never once in the last eleven years had she received a letter, a gift or a visit from her guardian. All instructions as to her care and education were sent to Mrs. Dimwittier, the housekeeper, and thus to the current governess who passed on what information she thought proper to Amity. At first Amity had been hurt but, never prone to self-pity, she eventually realized that a young man would have little in common with a child. Yet it would have been nice if he had taken just a little bit of an interest in her.

"What a time to sleep, Muffin. I could use someone to talk to," Amity muttered in exasperation.

The recipient of these words, lifted sleepy lids for a brief moment, then sighed heavily and drifted off again. The young girl made a moue of annoyance and returned to her examination of the rolling countryside.

Once Amity realized there was no one who cared for her, she had taken control of her life. She no longer expected love so she was free to make friends without fear of rejection. She was surrounded by servants and she talked with them, unfettered by the conventions and taboos of society. She made friends in the village and over the years met nothing but kindness. Innately curious and impetuous, her days were happily occupied with studies, reading and friends on the estate or in the village.

Only in her dreams, did she yearn for a different life. She desired a real home with a husband and a child of her own. And she dreamed of Max. She did not blame him for leaving her at Beech