by Robert Thier
All right, all right.
I admit it.
I’m a coward.
I didn’t want to have a talk with Captain Carter. At least not the one he had planned, which, I suspected, he could only have with Lillian, not with Mr Victor Linton. So I put on my shirt, peacock vest and tailcoat, and returned to the drawing room where the company had gathered, feeling like a new man. Literally.
‘Hello, everyone.’
I smiled as I closed the door behind me, trying to ignore the familiar icy stare burrowing into me from the moment I entered.
‘Mr Linton!’ Lady Samantha beamed. ‘Where have you been? The first of our guests have arrived.’
‘Linton?’ Captain Carter’s head jerked around and he blinked at me, his mouth opening a fraction at the sight. ‘Any relation of…good God! You must be. You’re her spitting image.’
I gave him a broad, friendly, thank-god-I’m-wearing-trousers smile. ‘You must be talking about my sister Lillian.’
‘Yes. Forgive me for expressing my shock, Sir, but the resemblance really is-’
‘-remarkable,’ I sighed. ‘I know.’
He was still staring at me. And he wasn’t the only one. The whole room was curiously gazing at Miss Lillian Linton’s identical twin.
Finally, the captain cleared his throat. ‘I was under the impression that Miss Linton had only female siblings.’
‘They don’t really talk about me.’ I gave a shrug. ‘I’m the black sheep of the family because I decided to work for a living. I am employed by Mr Ambrose as his private secretary.’
‘Ah. That explains it.’ The captain looked relieved, then seemed to remember himself and bowed. ‘I beg your pardon for addressing you without an introduction, Mr Linton. It was unaccountably rude of me. I was just so surprised…well, you are probably used to reactions from people who see you and your sister at the same time.’
‘That,’ I assured him, ‘happens rarely.’
‘Well, I am sorry, in any case. Now - the introduction. Marchioness, would you be so kind?’
Lady Samantha rushed in to introduce everyone to me - again - and then, when the attention was finally off me once more, and I was just readying to find a quiet corner with an iron door I could slip through to hide from Mr Ambrose, two female raptors descended on me without mercy.
‘Your sister is fabulous!’ Adaira gushed, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me over to a table with refreshments, away from the men. Another hand closed around my other arm, and I saw Lady Samantha, looking happier than I had ever seen her. Adaira squeezed my arm so hard it nearly fell off. ‘Why didn’t you tell us about her sooner? I’ve never seen anyone handle my brother like that! Actually, come to think of it, I’ve never seen anyone try to handle my brother and survive.’
Well, to be honest My Lady, the way his eyes are burning holes in my neck this very moment I’m not sure I am going to survive…
‘And she’s so warm and open,’ Lady Samantha sighed. ‘And what a lovely smile she has! Tell me, Mr Linton - is your sister engaged?’
My eyebrows shot up. The motive of her question was about as subtle as a flying brick in the face, and it…
It overwhelmed me.
Marriage?
Yes, I wanted Mr Ambrose, but…marriage?
To love? Maybe. Honour? A big maybe. Obey? Ha! Never in a million years!
Could I marry Mr Rikkard Ambrose? Could I marry anyone, taking into account what that institution would mean for my freedom?
Before I could find an answer to that question, a hand settled on my shoulder.
‘Mr Linton?’ a familiar cold, hard voice reached my ear. ‘A word. We have some business matters to discuss.’
I swallowed.
‘Tush!’ Lady Samantha chastised. ‘Can’t you see Mr Linton is speaking to us?’
‘Yes,’ I agreed desperately. Anything was better than facing that cold fury behind me. Anything. Even a discussion about the M-word.
‘I’m talking to Lady Samantha, Mr Ambrose, Sir. If you will please excuse me…’
I tried to step away. The grip of the hand on my shoulder tightened.
‘Last I checked,’ he breathed into my ear, ‘I pay your bills, Mr Linton. Which means I get to decide when you talk and whom you talk to.’
And without waiting for an answer, he grabbed my arm, dragging me off like a caveman. We were across the room in a blink, and he shoved me into a curtained-off alcove, pulling the curtain closed behind us.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ I demanded. ‘You can’t manhandle me like that! I’m not-’
But exactly what I was not - A duck? A giant garden gnome? A pink-haired pygmy? - I never got to reveal. Those were the last words I got out before his lips came down on mine and silenced me.
‘You know that man.’ Every hard word, every harsh breath, was a punishment against my mouth. ‘I’ve seen you with him, back in Alexandria.’
I didn’t pretend not to know whom he was talking about. ‘Yes.’
His arms slammed into the wall on either side of me, caging me in, cutting off any avenues of escape. Dark, sea-coloured eyes, churning with the rage of the ocean, bored into me.
‘Who is he? And more importantly, who is he to you?’
‘Don’t you already know?’ I raised a defiant eyebrow. ‘After what you said to him, I supposed you had dug through every aspect of his life.’
‘I have. But that still doesn’t give me the necessary information to answer my latter question.’ One of his hands slid away from the wall, caressing my face in a move so caring, so gentle, it almost took my breath away. Not fair! ‘Who. Is. He. To. You?’
I opened my mouth to say ‘no one’ - and closed it again.
Captain Carter wasn’t no one. He was the man who had taught me to dance the galop, who had helped me foil the plans of my devious aunt and who had risked his career to bring me safely home. He was the man who had saved my little sister Ella from a fate worse than death - marriage to his best friend. How could I call a man like that nothing?
It turned out I didn’t need to. My silence was answer enough. Mr Ambrose’s jaw muscles tightened, the cold sea in his eyes freezing over with ice and iron.
‘I see.
I see? What did that mean?
‘Mr Ambrose?’
Silence.
‘Mr Ambrose, Sir?’
More silence. I leaned forward, peeking up at him, trying to decipher the immovable mask of his face.
‘Sir? Please tell me you’re not going to do anything stupid, Sir!’
He cocked his head, gazing at me as if I were a bug under the microscope questioning the scientist about his methods.
‘I am not going to do anything stupid.’
For a moment, I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief - until I remembered that a man who had spies in Buckingham Palace transcribe the Queen’s private diary and engaged in sea battles with foreign nations that didn’t appreciate his particular brand of ‘free trade’ policy probably had a different definition of ‘something stupid’ than sweet little me.
‘Then what are you going to do?’
He met my eyes and his gaze was…impassive. Calm. Ruthless.
‘I am going to my room and do some paperwork. There is a file I’ve suddenly remembered I need to take care of.’
‘A…file?’
‘Yes.’
Relief flooded through me. ‘Oh, very well, if that’s all…’
‘Mr Linton! Rick! Come and see! More guests are arriving!’ Suddenly, rapid footsteps were approaching us. In an instant, Mr Ambrose was at the other end of the alcove, assuming a perfectly innocent pose, as if he hadn’t just been ravishing my mouth. A moment later, the curtain was pulled back, and Adaira’s face was framed in bright light.
‘There you are! What are you two doing in here?’
‘Um…we-’
‘Oh, forget it! What do I care about boring business stuff?’
‘Err…yes. Boring. Very boring. Wouldn’t interest yo
u at all.’
‘Come and see! The next coach is rolling up in front of the house right this moment.’
She latched onto me, and reluctantly I let myself be dragged outside, Mr Ambrose following in my wake, colder and more silent than ever. We followed her out into the yard where, indeed, several more carriages were pulling up.
I had to admit, after the earlier surprise with Captain Carter, meeting the ladies was something of an anti-climax. Yes, some of them were - in spite of my best efforts - quite beautiful, and all of them eyed the silent figure of Mr Ambrose as if it was already Christmas and he was the present they wanted to unwrap first. But their arrival had lost the bite of shock. After all, how could anything be more shocking than the captain’s sudden arrival on the scene?
I found out how soon enough.
‘Oh, look!’
Adaira’s excited words made me glance up - and my eyes widened. A coach was rolling across the courtyard - a coach so monumental, so luxurious, so perfect it practically breathed wealth and power. It looked like you’d imagine Cinderella’s coach would have looked like if her fairy godmother hadn’t just been an amateur, but had come with a PhD in fairygodmothering. Only…I was fairly sure that, unfortunately, this coach wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
‘Who is that?’ Lady Samantha breathed.
‘Don’t you see the crest on the door, mother? It’s Lady Caroline!’
‘Caroline…no. That can’t be her. I heard her father had recently made some good investments, but this-’
I swallowed. To judge by the amount of gold on that coach, those had to have been some really good investments. This girl had money. A lot of money.
Unable to look at Mr Ambrose, I stood there like a statue while the most magnificent of coaches rolled to a halt, the door swung open, and out of the interior emerged the ice queen herself. Or at least that’s what she looked like. Blonde hair, brilliant blue eyes, and clad in a breathtakingly bejewelled fur coat under which the hem of a blue-white dress peeked out just enough to showcase the gold on the hem.
This girl, in her current attire, was worth at least five thousand pounds. And the worst thing was: she looked as if she were worth twice as much. I hardly recognised her as the shy-looking girl I had seen in Lady Samantha’s engraving collection. And apparently I wasn’t alone in that feeling.
‘Caroline?’ Adaira’s incredulous whisper from beside me was barely audible.
I guess it was right what they said. Clothes do make the man - and the woman.
‘Hello, everyone. It’s so good to see you again!’ Lady Caroline smiled a brilliant smile, whiter even than the snow around her. ‘Adaira, you look lovelier each day. Lady Samantha! I can’t wait to see your Christmas decorations. I’m sure they’re even more beautiful than last year. And-’
Her eyes widened as they caught on Mr Ambrose.
‘Oh my! Is that…’
And Mr Ambrose, Mr Rikkard Ambrose, stepped forward, grasped her hand, and pulled it to his lips.
‘Lady Caroline. What a pleasure to see you again after all this time.’
Delicious Slush
‘Rick’ she whispered.
I stiffened. Rick?
‘Rick? Is that you? Oh God, I…’ An unarguably flattering blush rose to her cheeks. ‘I probably shouldn’t have called you that. We aren’t small children anymore.’
‘By all means, continue as we were before.’ Giving her a long, long look from under dark lashes, Mr Ambrose straightened out of his bow. ‘There’s no need for ceremony among old friends.’
Old friends? What the heck-
My heart froze in my chest - but unlike Lady Caroline, I wasn’t an ice queen. A moment later, the ice splintered, broke apart, and my heart exploded into fire. Hot, red, angry fire!
I stepped on Mr Ambrose’s foot.
‘Ng!’
‘Pardon?’ Lady Caroline enquired. ‘Did you say something?’
My dear employer, the treacherous weasel, cleared his throat. ‘No, it’s nothing.’
Oh? I was ‘nothing’ now, was I?
I pressed down harder on his foot. Somehow, damn him, he managed to maintain an absolutely impassive expression. I might as well have been standing on the foot of an elephant, for all the difference it made.
Time for a switch in tactics.
‘Won’t you introduce us?’ I asked with enough sweetness to fill a dozen pots of honey and still have enough left to sweeten tea.
‘Certainly.’ With a jerk, Mr Ambrose removed his foot from under mine. ‘Mr Linton, may I introduce you to Lady Caroline Elaine Sambridge, an old friend of the family’s. Caroline, please meet Mr Victor Linton, my-’
‘-his private secretary,’ I cut in, bowing to Lady Caroline just about an inch or two. ‘I manage his appointments. Which means that if you should wish to see him, you will have to make an appointment with me.’
This time, it was Mr Ambrose who stepped on my foot, and I wasn’t quite as successful as he had been in keeping my face expressionless.
Lady Caroline gave me a genuinely happy smile, completely unaware of the marvellous multitude of tortures I was devising for her in my head at this very moment.
‘Delighted to meet you, Mr Linton.’
Likewise - not!
Adaira stepped forward hesitantly. It was pretty clear that she knew the other girl but was somewhat intimidated by her extravagant attire. I made a mental note to have a little talk with Adaira about confidence. If she could manage her brother, she sure as heck shouldn’t have any trouble with this lady.
‘Won’t you come inside and have a cup of tea, Caroline? I’m sure you could use something to warm up after the journey.’
‘Thank you, I’m quite warm and comfortable thanks to this.’ She stroked an admiring hand over her fur coat. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? The finest quality, all the way from Russia.’
‘Um…yes. Quite.’
‘But a cup of tea is always welcome.’
‘As you wish. Willie? Reginald?’ Adaira clapped her hand to call the footmen. ‘Take care of Lady Caroline’s baggage and-’
‘Oh, don’t trouble yourself.’ Caroline waved Adaira’s words away, gesturing at two men in lavish uniforms who had been riding on the back of the coach and now jumped off to hurry and get the luggage. ‘My own servants will take care of it.’
‘Oh. Well, I see.’
With what I thought was admirable restraint, Adaira refrained from kicking the arrogant little witch. This Caroline was altogether too fond of herself and her money.
Money which Mr Ambrose might find very attractive.
‘Ladies and gentlemen?’ Hastings the Butler had appeared out of nowhere in the typical manner of perfect butlers and bowed deeply to the new arrival. ‘If you would please follow me? Tea is served in the small green parlour.’
‘Yes.’ Mr Ambrose nodded, his eyes on Lady Caroline. My fingers itched to close around his neck, and not for the purpose of gentle caresses. ‘Let’s go.’
Oh yes, Sir. We’ll go all right - but not where you think!
I did just as the others did and followed Hastings inside. But the moment the company stepped into the entrance hall and redirected its steps towards the small green parlour, my hand fell on the shoulder of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
‘Excuse me, Sir?’
He stopped in his tracks. The others halted and glanced back, wondering what was the matter. I gave them the bright, professional smile I usually reserved for charitable organisations coming to call at Mr Ambrose’s office - the official ‘sod off’ smile.
‘I’m so sorry, ladies, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to steal Mr Ambrose away for a bit. He and I have a very important business matter to discuss.’
And before any of them could say a word, I tightened my grip on Mr Ambrose and dragged him off.
Neither of us spoke until we had reached his room. Tugging open the door, I shoved him inside and followed, slamming the door behind me.
‘Well?’ He stood t
here, arms crossed, back straight as a rod, ice glittering in his eyes. The arrogance in every inch of his stance…it was unbelievable! It practically screamed Do you think you could have dragged me here if I didn’t want to be dragged? I could have stopped you at any time. I was in control. I still am. And no matter what I say to or do with Lady Caroline, it is none of your business.
He cocked his head. ‘Tell me, Mr Linton - what was this important business matter that you - mmmph!’
The rest of his sentence was cut off by my mouth slamming against his. In a flash, his arms unfolded, taking hold of me, crushing me closer - until he remembered that this wasn’t exactly a business discussion and pulled away, his eyes glittering.
‘Mr Linton…what in Mammon’s name…?’
I didn’t let him finish.
‘You know her?’ My voice was rough from the kiss, demanding.
‘Who?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me, Sir!’
‘If you are referring to Lady Caroline-’
‘You bet I am!’
‘-then yes, I know her.’
My fingers, clenched around the lapels of his tailcoat, curled into tight fists. ‘How?’
And more importantly: how intimately?
‘I do not appreciate being cross-examined in this manner, Mr Linton.’
‘Too bad. Get used to it! Now tell me: how do you know her?’
His left little finger twitched. ‘Her family’s estate is not far from here. We, err…crossed paths occasionally.’
‘Crossed paths?’ That sounded suspicious.
His little finger twitched again. ‘If you must know, Mr Linton, I used to throw things at her. Snowballs in the winter, mud balls in the summer.’
Well, well…that was a nice surprise. Much better than the kind of interactions I had been imagining. For a moment, I indulged myself gazing at the mental image of Lady Caroline Sambridge covered in slush - but then I shook myself. I refused to let myself be side-tracked! There was too much at stake.
‘You didn’t throw mud at her today!’
‘How observant of you, Mr Linton.’
‘You…’ I had to swallow before being able to get out the words. ‘You kissed her hand!’
‘Yes. And?’
‘And?’ I gaped at him. He sounded perfectly casual. ‘You didn’t do that with any of the others!’
