Damien laughed. “Cousin, you weren’t even born when the French and Indian Wars broke out in 1754. And you were a babe of eight when it ended in sixty-three, so tell me, what makes you such an expert?”
She lowered her head suddenly, remembering that it had been in 1763, when the last of the campaigns had begun, that she had first seen Eric Cameron. Lord Hastings had called a hunt just before some of the Virginia relief troops were due to leave. There’d been no reason for young Cameron to go, but his father had already been killed in the fighting and his grandfather had not denied him the right to fight if he chose. He had been young, disdainful, and ardent, she remembered. Determined to fight. Assured, poised…
Abysmally rude to her.
She shook her head. Well, he had come back, and he had been given some officer’s commission. Even though his grandfather hadn’t allowed him to leave with one, he’d earned it on his own.
Mandy shivered. She couldn’t understand war, and although she’d been very young during the French and Indian Wars, she could still remember the tears of the women who had lost husbands, the sons who had lost fathers, the girls who had lost their lovers. And there had been greater tragedy before her birth, when the war had just begun, for the Acadians from Nova Scotia—Frenchmen who had loved their land and stayed with it when it had gone from French rule to British in a previous treaty—were no longer trusted. They were cruelly exiled from their lands and cast upon the shores of Maine and Massachusetts and Virginia. Although some were able to make it into the French Louisiana Territory, many had been forced to seek some livelihood among the hostile English and Americans. There were still Acadians at Sterling Hall, even though her father despised them. She had heard it rumored that her father had slain an Acadian, although it had been at her birth, and she had never known whether it was true or not. She pitied the women, and the beautiful little children, and she had always done her best to be kind to the Acadians who remained with them. Indeed, Danielle was Acadian.
And still men went to war.
They had gone before, and it seemed now that they were growing eager to do battle again, that they might soon be eager to stand before flaring muskets, to allow themselves to be brutally ripped and torn and maimed.
“I’m not an expert on war, Damien, and I don’t want to be,” she assured him. “And I’m very worried about you.”
“No! Ah, cousin, please, for the love of God, don’t worry about me. This is Damien. I land on my feet, always. Remember that.”
“I’ll keep it in mind when they hang you.”
“They’ll not hang me. And they’ll not hang your new betrothed either, love.”
“Betrothed!”
“You said that Lord Cameron proposed—”
“Proposed? No, I did not say that. He burst upon Robert and me with an announcement that Father had agreed to his suggestion that he and I marry. But then…”
“Then what?”
“He was quick to assure me that he did not want me without my consent.” She paused, looking at Damien. “Why would Father do such a thing so suddenly, though? Father is an ardent loyalist. Could it be true?”
“Zounds—”
“Damien, don’t swear.”
“Me! Why, Mandy, when you’ve the mind, you swear like a seaman!”
“Don’t be absurd. Ladies don’t swear. But if I were to swear, I wouldn’t do silly things like turn the words around. I should say, ‘God’s body!’ and that would be that!”
“Tarnation! So you would, Mandy!”
“Damnation—and be done with it!” she said.
“If you weren’t such a lady, that’s exactly what you’d say!” Damien murmured with mock solemnity. But then he frowned in earnest. “Who knows anything about your father? He’s never much liked me, and that’s a fact.”
Amanda frowned. It was true. Damien was the child of her mother’s younger brother, and her father had tolerated him, keeping up the pretense of family, but had never shown him any affection. Michael, Damien’s elder brother, very seldom came near Sterling Hall. He would not pretend to tolerate his uncle, and though Amanda loved Michael dearly, she seldom saw him now for he had moved to Pennsylvania.
“Surely Father does love you—” Amanda began awkwardly, but Damien interrupted her, waving a hand in the air.
“Cousin, I do not mean to be cruel, but I wonder if he even loves you. Never mind, how callous of me. What a horrible thing to say. And still, let’s head into the house, shall we? He was asking about you, and I’d hate to bring his wrath down upon the two of us. And—”
“And what?” Amanda asked quickly as her cousin paused.
“And you need to dance, love. You need to dance and laugh and appear as if you’re having the time of your life.”
“Oh!” The blood drained from her face as she remembered that she had been rejected and humiliated. She tossed back her hair, adjusting the comb over her ear. “Am I all right, Damien?”
“All right? You are entirely beautiful. And we shall kick up our heels and make fools of the lot of them!” He caught her hand and led her quickly through the maze. “Remember when we were children? I loved this place so. You were going to marry a prince, or a duke at the very least. And I was going to kidnap the most glorious Indian maiden and strike out to conquer the world.”
