Anne Barbour by Step in Time Read Free Book Online Page A

rasp, “and I saved every cent I could, so that when the right opportunity came along I was in a position to grab it. After that, I never looked back. Now I can buy and sell most of the nobs in Mayfair, but they’re all too good to give the time of day to Jeremiah Bridge. Now—now things will be different.”
    Amanda thought privately that hell might well freeze over before Jeremiah Bridge would see the inside of “the finest homes.” What hostess, highborn or otherwise, in her right mind would seek his company for so much as a walk across the street, let alone balls and dinner parties? On the other hand, she supposed that money talked as loudly in Regency England as it did in the twentieth century, so, perhaps, once the Bridges got a toe into the filtered waters of high society, they might well find themselves doing swan dives with assorted blue bloods.
    Having been dismissed with a wave of Jeremiah’s hand, Amanda returned to the drawing room, where Serena and the earl were conversing over tea. That is, Serena was conversing and the earl was listening with an obviously spurious air of attention. Serena smiled in relief as Amanda entered the room.
    To Ash’s surprise, Amanda appeared composed, indeed, she seemed almost oblivious to the solemnity of the occasion. She greeted her mother, and, with a casual smile at Ash, seated herself before the fire.
    “Well, my lord,” said Serena breathlessly, “I understand you have something to say to my little girl. I shall leave you two alone—but just for a moment,” she added with a coy smirk that set Ash’s teeth on edge.
    Frowning, he watched her bustle from the room, and crossed the room to seat himself beside Amanda.
    “Miss Bridge,” he began, taking her hand in his. Her fingers were cool and very soft. “Miss Bridge, I have just spoken to your father, and he has granted me permission to seek your hand in marriage.”
    Amanda said nothing, but gazed at him in wide-eyed expectancy. Ash ploughed ahead.
    “We have known each other only a few months, and”—despite himself, a note of irony crept into his voice—“though you apparently consider your heart given to another, I believe we can deal well together.”
    Ash suddenly knew a moment of profound depression. As a declaration of undying devotion, his little speech left a great deal to be desired. It should have been different from this, he thought with a pang, but immediately thrust the notion from his mind. Amanda still had said nothing, but was gazing at him with what seemed to him vaguely contemptuous pity. He gritted his teeth.
    “Miss Bridge, will you do me the inestimable honor of becoming my wife?” he concluded, the emptiness within him almost thundering in his ears.
    Amanda Bridge dropped her lashes before lifting her head to gaze at him for a long moment. “Of course,” she replied at last, and Ash was startled at the offhandedness of her tone. Lord, he had just proposed to a woman who had that morning attempted to elope with another man. Even given that her mind was, theoretically, in total disorder, did she not realize the magnitude of what had just taken place?
    “Are you sure?” he asked harshly. “This is your future we are speaking of.”
    At that, Amanda laughed, an open sound of genuine amusement. “My future!” Her gaze transferred itself to the window. “But the future can be fleeting, my lord.”
    “I would have thought,” Ash replied, “that the certainty of the existence of some kind of future is one of the few constants in our lives, no matter how uncertain the fulfillment of that future might be.”
    She glanced at him quickly. “I suppose that is true.”
    “At any rate, you have made me a happy man, Miss Bridge.” The words almost stuck in his throat, and under Amanda’s disbelieving stare, he flushed. After a moment’s hesitation, he grasped her shoulders lightly and pulling her gently toward him, kissed her.
    Amanda stiffened in sudden surprise, then relaxed,