The truth was, Amelia was tired to the bone. Not just from her chores, or the dawn-to-dusk labor of running a small country household with an aging, irritable father, but from the way her days unfurled in a ceaseless, predictable loop. Tired of the lookssometimes pitying, more often patronizingfrom neighbors who wondered aloud if she would ever marry, or why she "ran a bit wild" for a girl of respectable family. Tired of the snide laughter from the boys at the livery when she bested them at harnessing a nervous gelding, tired of the sharp cut of her father's disappointment each time a new suitor left the house and never returned. Tired, most of all, of feeling like her very self was an embarrassment, a raw and ill-mannered thing that refused to be tamed.
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