Amelia Mainwaring collected porcelain statues of rabbits and birds, but also played lawn tennis— whimsical and yet competitive, characteristics quite different one from the other. And it appeared that she was an avid reader. There were books on the Louis XV nightstand beside the bed.
What might that those books tell me about Amelia Mainwaring?
Three books by Jane Austen had been set to one side of the table, while another book with a bookmark lay on the table.
I picked up the one she had apparently been reading as indicated by that bookmark. It was my novel about my main character Emma Fortescue’s latest adventure!
The novel was a thinly disguised fictional account about my sister’s disappearance, with all the names changed of course to protect the real persons involved.
Although I had to admit I had wanted very much to use my former brother-in-law’s real name. My way oftwisting the knifeas they say. Not in a murderous way, although I had been tempted out of desire to punish the man for what he had put my sister through, not to mention the risk to her life.
Most interesting, I thought now, regarding Miss Amelia’s preference for books. It seemed that in addition to my other observations, Miss Amelia Mainwaring was very much a romantic, and far from the shy and retiring sort in her choice of books.
I ignored Mrs. Gray as I made a slow inventory of the room and what I had discovered. I went next to the writing desk on the opposite wall across from the wardrobe.
It was in the Queen Anne style and appeared to be made of rosewood with the distinctive curved cabriole legs and pad feet. The fiddle back chair with cushioned seat was in the same style. And there was a framed photograph on the desk.
It was a photograph of a handful of young ladies and young men, dressed in sporting costumes, each with a racquet in hand. A gathering of fellow players it seemed, and Amelia Mainwaring and the other young ladies smiled while the young men variously mocked the camera with stiff, proper poses.
Yet, another insight into Miss Mainwaring.
The chair at the desk sat back instead of neatly tucked into the chair well as one might have expected. Had she been writing something at the desk, and then hastily pushed the chair back? What might that tell me?
As she had from the beginning, Mrs. Gray continued to hover about, as if she thought that I might lift something. I needed a diversion so that I could search through the drawers of the desk.
“Oh dear, is that Lady Mainwaring calling out?” I asked with a concerned expression. My comment had the desired effect.
“I must check on her,” Mrs. Gray announced with. “Are you quite finished, miss?”
“It isLady Forsythe,” I corrected her. I couldn’t resist, although I rarely used the title. There were occasions however when it produced the desired results.
“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Gray stammered. “Please wait for me in the hallway,” and then as an afterthought. “Milady.”
Sour-faced biddy, I thought, and assured her that I would. “Of course.”
As soon as she had gone, I immediately returned to the desk.
There were four drawers in the desk, two each side of a center space where a porcelain rose sat in a crystal vase, and once more I had the impression of someone who was quite romantic.
One drawer held a fountain pen, an elegant piece, along with a blotting pad to prevent smearing. Another drawer held a letter opener, the next drawer was empty. I finally found what I was looking for in the last drawer— sheets of Amelia Mainwaring’s personalized stationery.
She might have exchanged correspondence with the man she was to be betrothed to at the holiday season, or possibly someone else that might indicate her thoughts before she left.
I didn’t dismiss anything as I knew all too well that among the titled, marriages were often arranged and frequently between a young man and woman for benefits of wealth or title. If a young woman was fortunate there were feelings of affection that grew over time.
If not… My sister’s marriage was an example.
The match had seemed perfect, then ended in disaster and scandal. Fortunately, Linnie seemed to have recovered from that and was quite ecstatic with her growingacquaintancewith James Warren.
What secrets, I thought now, might the desk reveal about Miss Amelia Mainwaring?
Quite typical of the young woman I was gradually getting to know from what I had already discovered in the rooms, the thin vellum personalized stationery in the last drawer was embossed at the top with her initials in a design of delicate pink feathers that created the initials A and then M.
However, far more important and upon closer inspection, there were impressions at the blank page on top, no doubt left from a note that Amelia Mainwaring had written. What might it tell us?
I heard a sound in the outer room. It seemed that Mrs. Gray had returned.
I quickly lifted the sheet of stationery and tucked it into my travel bag, then hastily closed the drawer.
