Anne Barbour by Step in Time Read Free Book Online

had held with Amanda in the park, and he was aware of a peculiar churning in his stomach, part anger and humiliation at having given up so much of his private self, and part astonishment at how quickly the chit had drawn it all out of him.
    Withal, he had the oddest feeling that he had not been speaking with Miss Bridge at all. The woman who peered out from those great blue eyes was so much more of a person than the Amanda he knew. She seemed possessed of a wisdom and maturity far beyond her years, and it confounded him to realize that her expression of contempt had pierced him to a place he had forgotten existed within him.
    She had wanted him to talk about the war, for God’s sake, when previously the mention of so much as a skirmish would cause her to shudder delicately and ask that the subject be turned to a more diverting topic. Could a bump on the head have produced such a profound change in her? Or, perhaps his earlier surmise was correct. Years of domination by her determinedly proper parents had molded her into a pattern card of simpering missishness, and her loss of memory had released the real Amanda Bridge.
    If this was the case, it would be almost a shame, he reflected sardonically, to hope for a complete recovery on Amanda’s part. He grimaced. Particularly since he was virtually teetering on the brink of asking for her hand.
    He turned to face Jeremiah, who ushered him ceremoniously into a ground floor study.
    “I understand you have something you wish to discuss with me,” he said, his mouth spread in a sly, jovial smile. Ash would have given all he possessed—though that was perhaps an unfortunate phrase, given his present circumstances—to turn and leave the room. Bridge knew, by God, of Ash’s rage and humiliation at Amanda’s recent defection, and he was gloating over the fact that he had his lordship grasped firmly by the throat.
    In a few minutes, the interview was over. Ash mouthed the traditional phrases, and Bridge responded in suitable accents of gratification. Settlement arrangements were discussed, and Ash breathed an unconscious sigh as the realization sank in that, though the cost had been almost too great to contemplate, he now had the wherewithal to bring Ashindon Park back to financial stability, and he had assured his siblings’ futures. For now, Andrew could pursue his studies, and Dorothea would have her Season.
    As prescribed, Ash was then escorted by a servant to the drawing room, where he would wait while Bridge apprised his daughter of her good fortune.
    Summoned to her “father’s” study, Amanda faced him impassively.
    “Have you come to your senses yet, girl?” he asked abruptly, and for a moment she simply stared at him.
    “My sen—Oh. If you mean have I recovered my memory, no, I haven’t.”
    “Well, here’s something that should bring you round. Ashindon has asked for your hand.”
    Although the announcement did not come as a surprise, Amanda felt her heart jump.
    “H-has he, indeed?” she replied faintly. “How very—nice.”
    “Nice?” growled Jeremiah. “Is that all you can say? Do you know what this means for us, Amanda?” He smiled suddenly, and Amanda was reminded of the grin of the Big Bad Wolf. “You’ll be a lady and you and your ma and me, we’ll be received in the finest homes and invited to all the fancy balls and dinner parties.”
    “My God, is that what you want?” asked Amanda curiously.
    “ ‘Course, it’s what I want. Have you forgotten—well, yes, I guess you have, but I haven’t—all the snubs and turned-up noses?” He turned, suddenly serious, to grasp her arm. “Amanda, I went to work in Horace Fitch’s woolen mill when I was nine years old. I worked fourteen hours a day. There was one difference between me and the other lads there—I was a lot smarter.”
    And a lot more ruthless, I’ll bet, thought Amanda—and not too concerned with morality and ethics.
    “I worked hard,” continued Jeremiah, his voice a flinty