Read Online Anne Barbour by Step in Time - Free Book Online

snuggled into the pillows and, closing her eyes, gave her thoughts over to the inhabitants of her dream. That was another curious thing. Why had she peopled her fantasy with such an odd assortment of characters as the Bridges? And Lord Ashindon. If she were to be brutally honest with herself, she might admit that his lordship might be the fulfillment of some sort of deeply buried wish fulfillment, though he was not the sort that usually appealed to her. She was not given to adolescent fantasies, but if she were, they would probably center on the Mel Gibson type. His lordship definitely did not fit the requirements, being a few inches too tall and several degrees too arrogant. To say nothing of the nose.
    She sighed. How long was she going to have to deal with these people? Her hallucination had already lasted longer than she had expected—though of course, placing a time limit on a hallucination was probably an exercise in futility. Another theory—one that had occurred to her before—snaked through her mind to be squelched yet again. The idea that she had somehow traveled through time to land in the body of young Amanda Bridge was too ludicrous to contemplate. She was not, by God, living within the pages of some lurid sci-fi thriller. No, sooner or later she was bound to return to her senses, and she would do everything in her power to see that it was sooner.
    She turned restlessly. It was no use. The din outside seemed to be increasing, and she was not going to get back to sleep. Before she could arise once more, however, a soft knock sounded at the door, followed by the entrance of Hutchings bearing a cup of steaming liquid on a tray, along with two cookies on a plate.
    “What’s this?” asked Amanda, sniffing suspiciously as Hutchings placed the tray on her bedside table.
    “Why, it’s your morning chocolate and biscuits, miss.”
    Amanda lifted the cup to her lips and after the first cautious sip bent an accusing stare on the maid. “This? This is chocolate?”
    Hutchings bobbed her head nervously.
    “You are in error, Hutchings. This is not chocolate. It smells like chocolate, and it looks like chocolate, but it tastes like sh— that is, it tastes god-awful. What’s in it?”
    “Why, it’s made up with chocolate shavings and water and milk, miss, and a little sugar—just how you like it.”
    “Wrong again, Hutchings. I do not like it. Are you sure there is milk in here? And the sugar content is way below PDA standards.”
    Hutchings merely bobbed her head again, uncomprehending. Amanda sighed.
    “Well, never mind that. Tell me, how far is Grosvenor Chapel from here? I wasn’t paying much attention when I was brought here yesterday.”
    “Grosvenor Chapel, miss?” asked Hutchings, misgiving writ large on her plain features. “Oh, miss. You aren’t planning—?”
    “Yes, I want to go back there.”
    Hutchings moaned faintly. “Miss, you can’t! Your papa ... Your mama... They’ll lock you up till you’re thirty—and I’ll lose my place!” Her words ended on a rising note of hysteria.
    “No, no,” said Amanda reassuringly. “I have no intention of meeting what’s-his-name there. I just want to go to the chapel. I want to—to, er, meditate.”
    “Meditate!” Hutchings repeated the word as though her mistress had just stated her intention of stripping to the buff in the church’s center aisle.
    “Yes.” Amanda tried to infuse a few more ounces of reassurance into her voice. “I just want someplace peaceful and quiet to think. I am still very confused, Hutchings,” she continued as the maid remained, seemingly rooted to the floor, staring in bewilderment. “I have not regained my memory and I’m trying very hard to sort things out.” She tried out a wistful smile, and was relieved to see Hutchings relax—a little.
    “Oh, you poor dear. I s’pose—under the circumstances,” Hutchings began doubtfully. Her face cleared almost immediately. “But, you can’t just go into the