Chapter 14 Amelia Ridley
Amelia Ridley
Amelia and the rest of the Ridley family were invited to the Hamptons to attend the Grants’ impromptu fall gathering at their summer home to celebrate their young daughters’ birthdays.
Mother was elated to go shopping for the girls the night before, as she hadn’t been able to pick out clothes for young girls in years.
She chose two lily-white-and-pink dresses with matching bonnets filled with flowers.
Mother figured the outfits would be stylish and still comfy in the lingering heat.
Amelia waited until the last departing car, hoping they would leave without her, but Mother and now Father insisted she come.
“What happened to make us wary of the Grant family, Father?”
Father grabbed her shoulder. “Sometimes business brings clarity to people’s minds after they make rash choices and decisions based upon what I assumed to be their character.”
Amelia brushed him off. “Oh, assume, is that it? When he consistently brought up where you are from and that our family would never be on their level of class?”
He scoffed. “Amelia, that’s enough. You will be going.”
She picked up the trail of her floral dress, which was sheer at the hem, and shifted it into the car.
Surprisingly, to Amelia, the small moments of closing her eyes peacefully turned into hours by the time they reached the Hamptons.
The thought of seeing Jamison again made her heart flutter, even with everything that was going on.
Maybe this would give her the peace and clarity she had been searching for.
Anything to not be in the city surrounded by mobs of people ready to send her moves to Metropolitan Musings.
The Grants surely had to have raided every flower shop in New York, Amelia thought as they pulled up the winding driveway with probably every Rolls-Royce and Duesenberg parked outside coming straight from Long Island and the city.
She saw the large veranda filled to the brim with people with drinks in hand.
This was no wake-of-the-morning idea for them.
The girls’ party had to have been planned months in advance.
It seemed every person of importance, and people they went to school with, were in attendance at this supposedly spur-of-the-moment occasion.
The Ridleys had been invited last. This was proof that what she’d said to Jamison was true.
Amelia gracefully stepped out of the car, and Mr. Pierre held her steady until her feet reached the pavement.
The boys, who had already been there for hours, were spread out in the back of the garden.
Henrik, Diego, and especially Wei were being rough while playing a game of lawn bowling with Jamison’s younger brother, Elion.
She looked over to her left and saw Adesua settling beside Omar with some canvas paper and paint, which was fitting, as they never cared for the uproar of parties in the summer or, furthermore, any time of the year.
Amelia nibbled on a yellow macaron to satisfy the empty craving she’d had all morning.
Truly, she didn’t want to run into Jamison again.
What would she say? She wouldn’t apologize for telling him about her fears.
Could she possibly even want to marry someone who could get offended over a simple question?
Yes, it may have been a loaded question with a variety of possible answers, but if she was to marry him, she needed to confront the harrowing pain that he would leave her.
She felt it even more so now, after the second anonymous letter.
The Grant family’s reputation would be destroyed just by association.
But Jamison had never cared for all that—or had he?
Margarete Magdalene—well, now Margarete Thistle—swished her merry way into Amelia’s face as she sat on the bench looking out onto the water.
“Is that Mellie Mel!” She covered the sides of her face in an overbearing, dramatic way.
Margarete was already on her third and fourth children at the age of twenty-one. Her toddler twins pulled at her dress, screaming while she urged the first and second to go play.
“I would have never imagined you here at a children’s party! Don’t tell me you have a secret child we don’t know about.” Margarete winked as she kissed one of her bald twins on the head.
Amelia knew she had always been sarcastic, ever since their young school days.
Margarete would taunt her and her sisters for their skin tones, but it had never fazed them, as they had one another to rely on.
Amelia silently thanked her parents for that.
Without her siblings, she could have easily turned out like Margarete, having children she secretly despised.
“Yes, Jamison’s family has become quite acquainted with mine here recently,” Amelia said in a confident tone.
Every girl was in love with Jamison Grant, especially Margarete.
She begged her brothers to let her attend the Long Island Country Club to watch him play tennis or croquet.
Amelia knew that the implication of her, Amelia Ridley, being potentially paired with Jamison Grant would make a seemingly happily married woman jealous to no end.
Margarete laughed. “Oh, Jamison is over there with our old friend Laurina Key.” She waved and winked over at her as she caught her friend’s eye. “I think I love the sound of Laurina Grant, don’t you, Mellie?”
Amelia stood up from the bench.
“Here, Margarete, please have my seat. I can’t imagine how exhausting four kids must be. I have to go entertain myself with the lovely band.” Amelia briskly left, pretending not to hear another word from Margarete.
She rushed inside, making her way upstairs to get away from the noise.
Amelia stepped into what looked like the family library and wandered around.
Amelia wanted to stay in the Hamptons more.
She skimmed through the books, seeing classics such as Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights.
She hoped that Jamison had read a few of them.
A creak from the wood floor caused Amelia to turn around and see Elion.
“Sorry, Mells, I was just getting my secret jar of whiskey.” He tilted his head behind a stack of books that sat a little forward on their shelf.
“No, I am sorry for puttering around in areas that are clearly not mine,” she said shamefully.
Elion scrambled around, grabbing the jar of Canadian Club.
“Amelia, my family loves you. Believe it or not, our fathers may have not always gotten along, but Mother . . . Mother has spoken nothing but kind things about you since we were all children running around Central Park. She saw you as set apart from every girl here in the city, since you were able to speak multiple languages, and by far the most beautiful . . . You have nothing to worry about, I assure you.” He smiled as he left the library, waving the whiskey. “Duty calls. Enjoy yourself, Amelia.”
Amelia felt a little more at ease. Her worries over her father, her siblings, and now her ever-changing life shifted slightly as she realized she wouldn’t mind having in-laws like the Grants.
The Ridley children were just like the Grants in many ways.
They tried to make sense of the world they were born and brought into, keeping their elders happy, but in reality, a piece of them died with every choice they made.
Jamison nearly collided with Amelia as he rushed into the library.
“Oh, I’m sorry—” Jamison said as he prevented her from falling back.
He walked to the edge of the room and looked back at Amelia.
She didn’t dare look away, but instead marched toward him as the climax of the jazz band’s song soared through her veins.
And, oh, she soared as she crashed into him with every intention.
He held on to her strongly as he pressed his perfectly curved lips to hers.
This felt right. This was right. Whatever had happened before this moment didn’t matter, and everything after this moment seemingly didn’t exist. He pulled away from her as they exchanged slow gasps.
“I would like to go to the US National Championship with your family, if you don’t mind,” Jamison said nervously.
Amelia looked into his eyes. “Why do you sound like it hurts you to say this? If your parents are making you do . . . this . . .”
Jamison held on to Amelia, cupping her face in his palms. “Honey, my parents can make me do many things, but choosing a woman I want to spend time with is where they falter. I was running away from that nasally Laurina. It was apparent that my father had sent her after having dinner with her family. She’s probably crying to my mother, who I’m sure would be elated to know that we are together. ”
“Please come, Jamison,” Amelia pleaded.
“And that I will,” he said confidently.
Jamison walked Amelia down the stairs with the crowd watching. Mother and Father nodded as Amelia walked behind Jamison, his hand entwined with hers.
Surely it was a celebration for his young sisters, but the night ended with a celebration of love that had every single eligible girl filled with envy.
The Manhattan Herald
September 16, 1927
Metropolitan Musings
Our Two Royal Families Collide
Amelia Ridley and Jamison Grant: We can’t imagine a more beautiful couple than this.
Whispers all the way from the Hamptons report to have seen the couple hand in hand.
Can’t you see the grand wedding rivaling every royal wedding there ever was?
It would have been the bee’s knees to see young Elion and Kavita paired as well. Talk about a match made in heaven.