a man. I shall say no more.”
Chapter Seven
Though she understood well enough what the widow left unsaid, Amanda’s common sense told her the warning was ludicrous. Long ago she’d learned she was not the sort of woman men wanted. All her one beau had desired was Papa’s wealth. Thus, the following day, when the valet paused in his perambulations to greet her, Amanda saw no harm in leading him into conversation.
She soon learned he’d been a soldier, and had spent most of his service in Central India. He treated her to a few military anecdotes, and she found him both witty and surprisingly knowledgeable regarding Indian ways.
When he joined her at the rail the day after, the discussion continued where it had left off. Every day thereafter they met at the same place, at the same time, and talked. By the end of a week, their half-hour conversations had stretched into an hour, and even that time began to seem far too short.
Mr. Brentick was clever and very amusing, yet she’d met scores of clever, amusing men. The difference was that he appeared to find her so, too. When she lapsed into Hindu philosophy, one of her pet topics, he seemed fascinated. He asked intelligent, perceptive questions, and never hesitated to debate if he questioned her opinion. Amanda was accustomed to blank stares or, worse, condescending indulgence of her unwomanly and most un-British interests.
She found Mr. Brentick not simply superior to the com mon run of manservant, but a superior, rare species of man. Most important, she felt she’d found a friend. At the end of a fortnight, she felt as though they’d been friends all their lives.
Amanda was on her way to the upper deck when the door to the Bullerhams’ cabin opened, and Mrs. Bullerham, leaning heavily upon her cane, lumbered through. Her mind elsewhere, Amanda didn’t notice the massive figure emerging until she was upon her. Then she stopped short, missing a collision by mere inches.
“This isn’t a race course,” Mrs. Bullerham announced in booming tones, “though one should not be required to remind you that ladies do not run. Did your mama not tell you it was unseemly?’’ Moving farther into the passage and thus blocking it, she boomed on, “But I forget. Your mama was ill-equipped to oversee your education.’’
Amanda’s face set and her heart began to pump with hurt and rage, but she said not a word, only waited for the detestable woman to move out of the way.
“I am, of course, aware of your awkward situation,” the heavy voice went on. “You are not entirely to blame for your ignorance. I’d hoped Mrs. Gales would drop a word in your ear, but she, evidently, is preoccupied with the captain. I have held my own tongue out of pity. But it will not do.”
“I have often found that holding one’s tongue does well enough,” Amanda answered tightly.
“You are pert, miss, as I have remarked before.”
“Then I wonder you wish to speak with me at all.”
“Duty calls louder than personal feelings. As it should in your case,” Mrs. Bullerham rumbled. “Your brother is a peer as well as a justice. Whatever your mother was, noble blood runs in your veins. Even if you are without self-respect, you ought to consider your family.”
“I would appreciate it, ma’am,” said Amanda, “if you would step aside and permit me to proceed.”
“So that you may hasten to your rendezvous? Are you afraid the tit’s valet will make off with your maid if you dally?” came the taunting reply. “Have you no pride?”
“Too much, ma’am, to respond to ignorance.” Amanda turned away.
A fat hand clamped upon her arm. “Don’t be a fool, girl. You’re no beauty, but you can’t be so desperate. Certainly you don’t wish others to speculate that you are so starved for masculine attentions you must stoop to dallying with servants. You will become a laughingstock.”
Amanda reached up and pried the fat fingers loose, then jerked her arm away. “I trust you are
Chapter Seven
Though she understood well enough what the widow left unsaid, Amanda’s common sense told her the warning was ludicrous. Long ago she’d learned she was not the sort of woman men wanted. All her one beau had desired was Papa’s wealth. Thus, the following day, when the valet paused in his perambulations to greet her, Amanda saw no harm in leading him into conversation.
She soon learned he’d been a soldier, and had spent most of his service in Central India. He treated her to a few military anecdotes, and she found him both witty and surprisingly knowledgeable regarding Indian ways.
When he joined her at the rail the day after, the discussion continued where it had left off. Every day thereafter they met at the same place, at the same time, and talked. By the end of a week, their half-hour conversations had stretched into an hour, and even that time began to seem far too short.
Mr. Brentick was clever and very amusing, yet she’d met scores of clever, amusing men. The difference was that he appeared to find her so, too. When she lapsed into Hindu philosophy, one of her pet topics, he seemed fascinated. He asked intelligent, perceptive questions, and never hesitated to debate if he questioned her opinion. Amanda was accustomed to blank stares or, worse, condescending indulgence of her unwomanly and most un-British interests.
She found Mr. Brentick not simply superior to the com mon run of manservant, but a superior, rare species of man. Most important, she felt she’d found a friend. At the end of a fortnight, she felt as though they’d been friends all their lives.
Amanda was on her way to the upper deck when the door to the Bullerhams’ cabin opened, and Mrs. Bullerham, leaning heavily upon her cane, lumbered through. Her mind elsewhere, Amanda didn’t notice the massive figure emerging until she was upon her. Then she stopped short, missing a collision by mere inches.
“This isn’t a race course,” Mrs. Bullerham announced in booming tones, “though one should not be required to remind you that ladies do not run. Did your mama not tell you it was unseemly?’’ Moving farther into the passage and thus blocking it, she boomed on, “But I forget. Your mama was ill-equipped to oversee your education.’’
Amanda’s face set and her heart began to pump with hurt and rage, but she said not a word, only waited for the detestable woman to move out of the way.
“I am, of course, aware of your awkward situation,” the heavy voice went on. “You are not entirely to blame for your ignorance. I’d hoped Mrs. Gales would drop a word in your ear, but she, evidently, is preoccupied with the captain. I have held my own tongue out of pity. But it will not do.”
“I have often found that holding one’s tongue does well enough,” Amanda answered tightly.
“You are pert, miss, as I have remarked before.”
“Then I wonder you wish to speak with me at all.”
“Duty calls louder than personal feelings. As it should in your case,” Mrs. Bullerham rumbled. “Your brother is a peer as well as a justice. Whatever your mother was, noble blood runs in your veins. Even if you are without self-respect, you ought to consider your family.”
“I would appreciate it, ma’am,” said Amanda, “if you would step aside and permit me to proceed.”
“So that you may hasten to your rendezvous? Are you afraid the tit’s valet will make off with your maid if you dally?” came the taunting reply. “Have you no pride?”
“Too much, ma’am, to respond to ignorance.” Amanda turned away.
A fat hand clamped upon her arm. “Don’t be a fool, girl. You’re no beauty, but you can’t be so desperate. Certainly you don’t wish others to speculate that you are so starved for masculine attentions you must stoop to dallying with servants. You will become a laughingstock.”
Amanda reached up and pried the fat fingers loose, then jerked her arm away. “I trust you are
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