The Prodigal Daughter by Allison Lane Read Free Book Online

accepted me for what I was rather than dictating behavior because of who I was. I didn’t think of it like that, of course. I only knew that her home was comfortable, and she cared for me.”
    Lady Thorne had blanched. “We all cared for you, Amanda.”
    “Speak for yourself. My father was cold and disapproving. He declared his hatred more than once. The others followed his lead. You showed warmth on occasion, but think back. There was little to choose among the lot of you for stern haughtiness. Or should I term it the Sterne Hauteur , that arbiter that not only condemns all joy, but coerces others into its mold, thus perpetuating itself for all eternity. Has Father ever smiled?  Or laughed?  Has he ever approved of anything that brought pleasure to life?”
    “You are harsh, Amanda. He has many responsibilities.”
    “I would never argue his devotion to duty. But duty and enjoyment need not be incompatible. Now, enough of this. I’ve no desire to waste a perfectly lovely day discussing the Marquess of Thorne. Do you know where Granny was laid to rest?  I must pay my respects.”
    “Not in the churchyard. The vicar despised her practice of witchcraft.”
    “Then he was ignorant, for she was no witch. But I am not surprised. He owes his living to Thorne. Where is she?”
    “I know not. Tales claim her body was spirited away by the devil.”
    Amanda sighed. Granny’s friends probably feared desecration at the hands of a bigoted vicar, possibly with the approval of Lord Thorne. Perhaps John Timmonds would know. He was a tenant who had blessed Granny many times for curing his wife of a raving fever.
    Their conversation was interrupted when a young lady arrived.
    “Good afternoon, Emily,” said Lady Thorne. Taking the bull by the horns, she turned to Amanda. “Mrs. Morrison, this is my granddaughter, Lady Emily. Emily, my granddaughter and your sister, Amanda.”
    Amanda hardly took in the fact that Lady Thorne had introduced her as a granddaughter, despite Thorne’s edict that she claim no connection to the family. Emily was a petite miss with pretty blonde ringlets. Her jonquil muslin walking dress trimmed in lime ribbons was obviously a product of a London modiste, and a charming chip-straw bonnet framed her heart-shaped face. With a smile, she would be lovely, and her position as Thorne’s daughter with a generous dowry would make her a very desirable candidate on the marriage mart. But just now she appeared dauntingly unapproachable, her brown eyes staring icily.
    “What is she doing here?” demanded Emily, delivering a direct cut as she turned to her grandmother.
    “I invited her. This is my home, you might recall,” Lady Thorne gently chided in return.
    “You know Father repudiated her,” Emily protested.
    “Your father’s edicts do not concern me..” The dowager’s voice was stern. “I will entertain all my relations whenever I choose.”
    “You needn’t fear I will bother you,” commented Amanda dryly. “I have no intention of trespassing where I am not welcome. Nor will I waste my time with people who do not interest me.”
    “What a taradiddle!” exclaimed Emily. “No one can ignore the Marquess of Thorne.”
    “You make him sound like God. Sorry to disappoint you, Lady Emily, but I care nothing for the family. Fate has led me to make my home in Middleford, but I doubt we shall see each other to speak..” She turned to her grandmother. “Thank you for the tea.”
    “You needn’t leave yet, surely,” protested Lady Thorne.
    “There will be better times to chat. Good day..” Nodding silently to Emily, she departed.
    * * * *
    Amanda pulled herself from another nightmare and sat up. It promised to be a long night, the fourth in a row. Donning her dressing gown, she wandered over to the window.
    The dreams were getting worse as well as more frequent. She should have expected it. By returning, she had breached a barricade that had been in place for nine years. Ghosts were bound to