Wayward Winds by Michael Phillips Read Free Book Online Page A

Rutherford, however, was not particularly enjoying herself. Here she was at the heart of London society—all she had ever dreamed of—but on the arm of her cousin Geoffrey! She had dressed carefully. She knew her cream-colored crinoline was perfect for both the event and for her.
    It should have been her father— he was the one who belonged here! He could have been the prime minister. She should be on the arm of Prime Minister Rutherford —not this slimy creature! She would never forgive her father for turning his back on what had been thebrightest political career in the empire. He had promised to make her a lady of London. But he had reneged on that as well.
    The idea of her hand touching Geoffrey, even through the sleeve of his jacket and her glove, and her carrying on with pleasant demeanor as if his presence was anything but detestable . . . it was enough to make her skin crawl. She was beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. At the time, however, it had seemed a small price to pay for the chance to attend a gathering so close to the Crown. All her life she had dreamed of this very thing. The fact that a sizable anonymous donation was to be made into the bank account of Emmeline Pankhurst to advance the cause of women’s rights had also added to her motivation to accept the offer.
    The invitation from her father’s cousin Gifford three weeks earlier had been entirely unexpected. Curiosity, more than any desire to see him, had prompted Amanda to accept it.
    â€”———
    I understand you are involved with the Pankhursts,” said Gifford after the exchange of initial trivial pleasantries.
    â€œThat is correct,” replied Amanda.
    The banker took the information in with a knowing nod. He appeared deep in thought.
    â€œI am curious as to how you found my whereabouts,” Amanda added.
    â€œI am reasonably influential in London,” replied her father’s cousin. “Many things besides money are at my disposal. Speaking of finances—how is your, uh—your cause . . . how are you faring?”
    â€œMoney is always needed.”
    â€œWhat would you say if I made it possible for you to obtain a donation?”
    â€œI would want to know what you wanted of me in return. I would not expect you to contribute for the sake of family ties, nor out of concern for the advancement of society,” Amanda replied with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
    Gifford smiled. He had not underestimated his cousin’s daughter in the least. It seemed he and Amanda understood one another perfectly. He rather liked this young firebrand. She might make a very suitable daughter-in-law at that.
    â€œIt is a small thing, really,” he said at length. “You know of the LawnTea coming up next month at Kensington Gardens?”
    Amanda nodded.
    The two continued to talk for another few minutes.
    â€œOf course, you understand Geoffrey must not know that there are finances involved in our little arrangement.”
    â€œHe will suspect something.”
    â€œYou leave that to me. If you want the donation, you must say nothing.”
    â€”———
    Amanda had agreed. Now here she was paying a price she wasn’t sure was worth what Mrs. Pankhurst was to be given in exchange. But the day would soon be over, and Geoffrey would once again be out of her sight. And she had had her opportunity to mingle with high society.
    â€œGood afternoon, Rutherford,” said a voice nearby.
    Geoffrey turned toward it.
    â€œOh, it’s you, Halifax. I didn’t know they let the press in.”
    â€œNo less than bankers,” rejoined the newcomer with a smile. “I’m here because my dear mum secured me an invitation,” he added.
    â€œShe doesn’t approve of your profession, I take it?” asked Geoffrey politely. It was with difficulty that he tried to act interested.
    â€œA bit too plebeian for her—all the riffraff