Page 37 of Storm and Silence


  ‘I do not recall. I think I might have met him at some other party or in the street, maybe.’

  Damn! Why couldn’t I keep my voice steady? Maybe it was the way he was blocking my way out of the niche. It was bloody annoying! More than annoying, actually. It started to be slightly worrying.

  ‘Most young ladies,’ Lord Dalgliesh observed, leaning a little closer, ‘would remember their first meeting with Mr Rikkard Ambrose.’

  He still wore his charming smile, and to anyone listening, his questions might have sounded like nothing but idle curiosity. Yet I didn’t think that anything about this man was idle. Still he was blocking my way.

  ‘Well, I have a very bad memory,’ I snapped. ‘Especially for people I don't care to remember! Now step aside, please! My aunt will be leaving, and I have to join her.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Miss Linton…’

  ‘Step aside, I said!’

  For one moment he hesitated - then stepped back, giving me just enough room to pass.

  ‘You’re an intriguing young lady, Miss Linton.’ His eyes were sparkling like moonlight on cold steel. ‘I will look forward to meeting you again.’

  Ha! When hell freezes over!

  ‘Until then, My Lord.’

  Keeping my back ramrod-straight so I could always look him in the eye, I gave a quick curtsy. Then I marched away at a measured pace and, using the fact that Lady Metcalf was just saying goodbye to a large group of burly army officers, ducked past her and out of the ball room.

  Only when I was in the hallway and he couldn’t see me anymore did I start to run. The slaps of my shoes sounded harsh on the marble floor, and servants stared at me as I rushed by, but I didn’t care. Some instinct told me to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  I stumbled out into the cool night air. Fog from the river Thames was wafting towards me. Yet neither the clammy moisture nor the cold air did anything to clear my mind. A thousand questions where whirling around inside my head. Only they weren’t the same ones as a few hours ago, when Mr Ambrose had entered the ballroom, that hag on his arm.

  Had Mr Ambrose really been interested in Lord Dalgliesh, not his beautiful partner? What did the lock in the envelope mean? Where did it come from? And why, of all people in the ballroom, should Mr Ambrose have been looking at me?

  I hurried over to the coach, which had already been brought to the door by the driver, and hurriedly climbed up the steps. I needed a quiet place, shut off from all the noise of the ballroom. A place where I could think.

  I sank onto the seat and breathed a sigh of relief. Alone, finally!

  Then I looked up - and saw Wilkins sitting on the opposite bench. A rose and an enormous sunflower were sticking out of his tortured buttonhole, and he had a dreamy expression on his face which I immediately mistrusted.

  ‘Ah, Miss Lilly,’ he said, smiling at me with a smile like a seasick baboon. Or, maybe, like a man in love. It was difficult to tell the difference sometimes. ‘How fortunate that you are the first to arrive. I wonder if I might have a word with you. It is about your sister, Ella.’

  Woes of Love

  I eyed Wilkins cautiously. ‘What about my sister Ella?’

  ‘I… I have confession to make.’ He pressed a hand to his heart, either overcome by his feelings or having a heart attack. Unfortunately, the chances for the latter seemed slim. ‘A secret that I have borne in my heart for a long time but now must reveal to somebody, or else my heart will burst.’

  Well, things are looking up. Maybe the chances aren’t that slim after all.

  ‘I see,’ I said.

  He had obviously hoped for a response like, ‘What is your secret? I’m dying to know!’ or something equally dramatic. When I didn’t oblige, he floundered. But soon enough he found his voice again.

  ‘I have chosen to confess my secret to you,’ he whispered conspiratorially. ‘If for now you promise you will reveal it to no living soul.’

  ‘Go on.’ I waved my hand. ‘I promise I will reveal it only to vampires, ghosts and other members of the undead community.’

  ‘Um… good. Very well, then.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I… am in love. I am in love with your sister, Miss Ella Linton.’

  My left eyebrow rose about a millimetre. ‘You don't say.’

  Again he had apparently hoped for a more dramatic reaction. But he seemed to cope well with the disappointment, more than ready to supply all the necessary drama himself. He leant forward so far that the sunflower almost fell out of his buttonhole.

  ‘The reason I tell you this,’ he said, whispering, ‘is that throughout the entire time I have had the pleasure to know your sister, I have noticed you have taken a most lively interest in the progression of our relationship. You have always been there, trying to help me…’

  What?

  ‘… and although your failed attempts at furthering conversation show how innocent you are, how inexperienced with romance, they are greatly appreciated.’

  This man definitely could never be allowed to marry my sister! There was insanity in his family! There had to be! Me helping him?

  ‘Miss Lilly,’ he said in a fatherly manner, which might have worked better if he hadn’t been just about three years older than I. ‘I am a seasoned man of the world. I have no problem with striking up a conversation with your sister on my own. Have no fear. What you hope for is true: I am indeed pursuing your sister. I am so deeply in love with her I can hardly express it. Soon, after an appropriate courtship, I will ask her to be mine, and your sister Ella will marry one of the most eligible bachelors of London.’

  He pressed my hand.

  ‘Have no fear. Soon we shall be family.’

  Argh!

  *~*~**~*~*

  Somehow I managed the ride home without getting hysterics. The situation was far more dire than I had imagined. My only consolation was that Ella still wasn’t aware of the fact. But as we rode towards home, even that consolation began to disappear. The love-struck smiles which Wilkins sent in Ella’s direction at regular intervals could hardly be misinterpreted, even by one as innocent as she. In addition, Wilkins had begun to suggestively wink at my little sister. Since he did this repeatedly and without great talent, he looked like somebody desperately trying to get a fly out of his eye, but still, she probably got the message.

  The others were no help either. Lisbeth was sad because nobody at the ball had danced with her, Gertrude was quiet, Maria and Anne were shooting angry glances at Ella, and my aunt was still making hints about how well Lord Dalgliesh and I seemed to be getting along. It was only Sir Philip’s presence that stopped her from pestering me for the date on which our engagement would be announced.

  Finally, we stopped in front of my uncle’s house and alighted from the coach. Wilkins didn’t remain sitting, but got out after us.

  ‘Do you wish to come in for a minute, Sir Philip?’ My aunt enquired sweetly. She was always sweet to prospective nephews-in-law. The rich ones, anyway.

  ‘No, madam. I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you.’

  ‘It would be no inconvenience at all, I assure you, Sir.’

  ‘That is kind of you, Madam, but I really must be getting home. I just wanted to say goodbye to your charming nieces, particularly to Miss Ella.’ Taking her hand, he bent and placed a long, lingering kiss on it. ‘Thank you, Miss Ella. Goodbye, for now. I look forward to seeing you soon again. Tonight was the best night of my life. May we spend innumerable nights like it, and may they each be brighter and happier than the one before. That is the deepest desire of my heart.’

  Ella paled, and my aunt took on the blissful expression of an opium addict dancing in a field of poppies. It was almost as good as a proposal. If she’d had a chain and collar on her, my aunt would probably have chained Sir Philip up in the hallway until he had delivered the real thing. Unfortunately for her, she lacked that equipment and so could only curtsey and wave after him as he got into his coach and drove away.

  While she was busy waving, I
made myself scarce. I didn’t want to hear any more profusions on the subject of Lord Dalgliesh or Sir Philip. Besides, I knew now with absolute certainty what my little sister was facing. I needed to take up my post so I was in position when the drama began. Grabbing a book from the library, I sneaked out into the garden and settled down comfortably behind the bushes. Only a few minutes later the backdoor creaked open and a white-clad figure stepped out into the garden.

  *~*~**~*~*

  Regretfully, I put my book aside. It had been a really interesting colonial adventure story, and I had just gotten to the best part - the bit where the hero is tied to a stake and the natives prepare to cook and then eat him alive. But I told myself he was sure to be rescued soon, and then a wonderful story would be ruined. Better to stop now and enjoy the drama that was beginning to unfold in front of me.

  Edmund had appeared on the other side of the fence. He didn’t look very well: his face was pale, his hair unkempt, and his shirt and waistcoat had seen better days. My gaze drifted to Ella, only to observe that she was in no better condition. Her blonde hair was hanging in wild tangles down her back, and her dress had obviously been put on in a hurry. Of course she still looked innocent as the new day and stunningly beautiful, but then, she was Ella.

  I settled into a comfortable theatre seat provided by a patch of moss from which I could see everything through a gap in the brush. This performance was going to be pivotal for my further plans. On it would hinge everything I would try to do to further Ella’s hopes and dreams and smash Sir Philip into smithereens!

  The two of them stood on either side of the fence for a long while, simply staring at each other with desperate longing, trying to bridge the distance between them with their gazes. Or at least I figured that’s what they were doing. With the moon having disappeared behind clouds, it was pretty dark in the garden, so I couldn’t actually be sure about the staring-at-each-other-with-desperate-longing part. They might just have fallen asleep standing.

  ‘Ella, my love,’ Edmund said in a raw voice.

  Ah. Not asleep. So I had been right. And if that wasn’t desperate longing in his voice, I didn’t know what desperate longing was.

  ‘Edmund, my love,’ my little sister whispered. Apparently, she was very much awake as well.

  ‘How do things stand?’ he demanded.

  When Ella said nothing in response, he pushed on: ‘What is the matter? Why do you not speak? Why do you not step closer to me? Speak, my love! I can no longer live without the sweet honey of your voice sustaining me!’

  I suppressed an urge to gag.

  How would you like the honey of my fist in your face, fellow?

  But his mushy-gushy mush seemed to hit the spot with Ella. She opened her mouth and took a breath, preparing to speak.

  ‘I… I danced three times with Sir Philip,’ she answered timidly. I noticed she didn’t step closer to the fence, made no move at all to approach her beloved with the messy hair.

  ‘Only three times during the entire evening? When he is supposedly courting you?’ Edmund’s face brightened. I thought dancing three times with the same person was quite a lot, but I didn’t doubt if he had the chance, he’d spent the entire evening glued to her. ‘Oh Ella, you give me hope. Tell me, has he lost interest in you, the fool? Has he withdrawn his affections?’

  My sister gave a little shake of the head.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why on earth would he not…’

  ‘It is my dear sister.’ Dang! She’s talking about me! ‘My dear, dear sister who protects me. It is amazing. Though she knows not a thing of how things truly stand, of where my affections truly lie, she instinctively seems to be able to sense somehow that I do not welcome his attentions. Not just tonight at the ball - whenever he comes, she is there, between him and me, helping me, protecting me. Sometimes I ask myself whether she is clairvoyant, so clearly can she read what I feel. It is as if she could hear every secret word I speak to you!’

  Um… Well, about that…

  Deeply moved, Edmund nodded. ‘I have heard of this - a strong emotional bond between siblings who cherish for one another the deepest affection can have such remarkable effects. She must be a remarkable girl. I wish I could meet her someday.’

  No problem. Just come around the bush and wave.

  Ella shook her head vigorously. ‘You cannot! Remember, she must never know of us.’

  ‘You’re right. She must never know.’

  I rolled my eyes. Really? Gosh…

  There was a pause. Then Edmund added: ‘But we have strayed away from the heart of the matter, dearest.’

  Ella’s lower lip began to quiver.

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Sir Philip Wilkins still pursues you.’

  ‘Oh, cruel, cruel Edmund! How can you remind me?’

  Edmund reached through the poles to squeeze her hands, and she immediately ceased her lamentations.

  ‘I must remind you,’ he persisted in a gentle tone of voice. ‘I must, because we must form plans and find an escape, find some way to forge a future for ourselves.’

  Her eyes tearing up again, Ella suddenly stumbled forward and sagged against the fence.

  ‘No plans can save me,’ she whispered. ‘I have no future!’

  Now that’s just not true! I shook my head disapprovingly. If people only could be more accurate about such things. She might have a future wherein she would be absolutely miserable, married to a man she couldn’t stand and separated from her one true love - but she would definitely have a future. One should always be accurate. Ten hours a day and six days a week of sorting files for an office tyrant teaches a girl that much.

  ‘That is why I said we would forge a future, Ella. You may not have one now, but we will find a way.’

  ‘How, Edmund, my love? How can we possibly find a way?’

  ‘I do not know yet. But take heart, my love. With time, we will surely devise a plan and…’

  ‘With time?’ More tears running down her delicate face, Ella stared through the fence in desperation. Now the moon was out from behind the clouds and I could actually see the mournful expression clearly. It made me wish for darkness again. ‘With time? Edmund, you do not understand. We do not have time. I… I believe…’

  ‘What?’ Edmund stepped closer to the fence and grabbed the metal poles. ‘What are you keeping from me? Tell me! I beg you, my love, tell me!’

  ‘I believe,’ Ella said in a breathless whisper, ‘that Sir Philip will shortly propose matrimony.’

  ‘No! Say it isn’t so!’

  ‘Yes, my love.’ Reaching up, she swiftly touched his pallid cheek with her fingertips. ‘Yes, it is. I wish it were not so, but I cannot change it. I cannot change my fate.’

  There were a few moments of heavy silence. Edmund was staring at the ground, his fists clenched at his sides. Curious, I leaned forward, trying to get a look at his face, but it was impossible to see from here.

  Blast! And this is the best part of the drama!

  I should have gotten a seat closer to the stage.

  Then, suddenly, he raised his head again, and I blinked in surprise. I hardly recognized him. All the despair was gone from his face, replaced by a look of iron, immovable determination.

  ‘Yes, you can,’ he said in a hoarse voice. ‘You can change your fate, my love. Run away with me! Run away with me and become my wife!’

  You could have knocked me down with a feather. Actually, half a feather might have done it. Or maybe a very small piece of yarn?

  Ella, I could see, was equally taken aback. She wasn’t gaping open-mouthed at Edmund like I was - proper ladies don't do that sort of thing - but she had definitely turned an even whiter shade of pale than she normally was.

  ‘M-marry?’ Her voice was almost inaudible over the soft wind that had picked up and that rustled the leaves in the trees as well as the soft folds of her dress in an appropriately romantic manner. ‘But how… Aunt Brank would never agree!’

  ‘I as
ked you to run away with me, my love,’ Edmund reminded her, his voice gentle but firm, his gaze never leaving her face. ‘That means she wouldn’t have to agree.’

  ‘But… go against the wishes of her and all my family…?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Shame them before all the world? Hurt them in such a way?’

  ‘Yes, my dear. For love, it must be.’

  Hell’s whiskers! He’s really going to do it! He’s really going to take advantage of your poor, innocent little sister and whisk her away.

  Getting stealthily to my feet, I prepared to launch myself from the bushes if he made even one tiny move towards her.

  A rake! That’s what he is! A dastardly rake!

  I knew what was coming next, of course. I had heard Anne and Maria discuss romance novels often enough. Next he would grab Ella and carry her off into the night. But he didn’t reckon with me in that equation! The moment he touched her, I would be ready to take up the chase!

  Of course, there’s the small matter of the fence between them, so you probably won’t have to hurry that much.

  ‘Are you in earnest, Edmund?’ Ella whispered. ‘Do not toy with my heart. Would you really make me your wife, if you could?’

  Grasping her hand, he stepped forward. I prepared to jump out of the bushes, but he didn’t move to touch any other, strictly restricted, parts of her. Instead, he fell to his knees, bowing his head over her hand and kissing it softly.

  ‘How could you ever doubt it?’ he demanded. ‘For years I have admired your beauty, your charm and your loving nature. My love for you has grown and blossomed ever since it first sprang to life. Now that is has come to full bloom, nothing will stop me from making you mine. Will you do me the honour…?’

  With a small sob, she pulled her hand from his grasp. I could see her face as she turned from him, towards my hiding place, her arms wrapped around her slender body as if to protect herself.

  ‘This,’ she said in a quivering voice, ‘has gone far enough.’

  The words may have been weak, but on Edmund they fell like a hammer blow. I was almost disappointed not to see a substantial bump swelling up on his head.