Amala had only been in her room for a minute when Pearl knocked lightly at the door, just as Amala had expected. Pearl was the lady’s maid she shared with Kat. While both Kat and Amala had been taught to be independent of servants in most ways and to always be kind and appreciative toward them, there were certain things that were part of the culture in which they lived with which they simply needed assistance. Sometimes Kat and Amala would help each other into the ridiculously heavy dresses and huge petticoats they were required to wear much of the time. But Pearl was almost always somewhere nearby, willing and able to help whenever she was needed. And she was an expert at styling a lady’s hair in ways that Kat and Amala could never do for each other.

Pearl had obviously been reading—as she loved to do—in her room across the hall, with the door open, waiting to hear any evidence that she was needed. She said little as she helped Amala out of the dress and petticoats and then unlaced the confining corset. Even though Amala had always refused to have her corset laced so tightly that it inhibited her ability to breathe deeply, it still always felt good to be without it. Once Pearl had given Amala all the help she needed, the young woman left, and Amala was free to finish getting ready for bed while she tried not to think about the scene she’d initiated in the dining room. By the time she crawled into her bed, placing her weary head on one pillow and holding tightly to another, a rush of tears refused to be restrained. But Amala managed to keep her tears silent with the hope that if anyone in her family peeked into her darkened room with the hope of talking to her, they would believe her to be asleep and leave her in peace. She only wanted to be alone and attempt to take in the reality that today Henry Beckenridge had shattered her hope that she would never actually fall in love. If she’d never felt such things, it surely would have been easier to live without them. She knew now that the way she would have to live out her life hadn’t changed, but living with a broken heart was something to which she would have to become accustomed.

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