Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence Saga Book 4)

by Robert Thier

  Growling, I pulled open the door to my female version’s room and grabbed the dress. Time to put on my uniform and march into battle!

  Where the Sun Doesn’t Shine

  The doors to the small green parlour swung open and, as if by magic, all gazes slid to the door. Captain Carter straightened. Mr Ambrose stiffened (which was impressive, considering how stiff he already was). The ladies all around the room narrowed their eyes.

  I smiled, meeting all their gazes, and let my fan snap open. May the battle begin! ‘Oh dear. I hope I’m not too late?’

  ‘Miss Linton!’

  Lady Samantha rushed forward, the relieved look on her face making me almost forgive her for the way she had been shoving girls at a certain someone the entire evening. Heck! Who could stay angry at a face like that?

  ‘We were so worried! Are you ill? Should I send someone to town for the doctor?’

  ‘Please don’t trouble yourself.’ Taking her small hands, I gave them a gentle squeeze. ‘It’s nothing serious. I was just feeling a little faint. The cold weather has that effect on me, sometimes.’

  ‘Oh dear! Really?’

  ‘Yes.’ A cool voice caressed my ears from behind. I didn’t need to look around to see who had circled the room to stand behind me. ‘Miss Linton is such a delicate flower. A regular damsel in distress.’

  Resisting the urge to elbow him in the gut, I gave Lady Samantha a smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.’

  Unlike your son, once I’m through with him!

  ‘Lady Samantha?’

  That sickly-sweet voice announced the arrival of the enemy. They circled us like a pack of hyenas, their ball gowns swishing, their eyes focused on the single, weak little victim they were planning to devour: me.

  I smiled. These ladies were about to get a big surprise.

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting this young lady before.’ One of the hyenas stepped forward, a perfect smile on her polished face. ‘Would you be so kind as to introduce her to us?’

  My eyes narrowed. Introduce her to us… It was always the social inferior who was introduced to his or her superior.

  So, you think you’re better than me, do you?

  I was just about to open my mouth and tell this witch where she could stick her opinions, when Lady Samantha smiled her most grandmotherly innocent smile and said, ‘Of course I’ll introduce you to her! Miss Linton, may I introduce Lady Eveline Maria Westwood?’

  Instantly, the smile disappeared from the newcomer’s face.

  Three cheers for Lady Samantha!

  Showing her all my sparkly teeth, I curtsied. ‘Maria? How charming. I have a sister of that name.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  ‘Yes. For some reason, you remind me of her.’

  ‘And Lady Eveline, this is Miss Lillian Linton. Her brother works as a secretary for my son.’

  ‘Oh.’ Lady Eveline’s smile reappeared in a flash. ‘You invited the help for Christmas, Lady Samantha? How very charitable of you.’

  Snickers came from all around.

  Strangulation is against the law! Strangulation is against the law!

  I repeated the words again and again - but that didn’t make them any more palatable.

  Still, I refrained from putting my hands around her scrawny neck. There were so much more sophisticated ways of destroying her, along with the rest of those hyenas.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think I was invited because of my brother’s connection to Mr Ambrose,’ I told them all with a genteel smile. ‘Didn’t you know? Mr Ambrose and I have known each other for a while now.’

  ‘You have?’ Lady Eveline’s voice dripped with disgusted disbelief.

  ‘You have?’ Lady Samantha, on the other hand, sounded as if she had just received an early Christmas present. Behind me, I could feel Mr Ambrose freeze into a block of ice, and my fake smile turned into a real one. This might be more fun than I had expected.

  ‘Oh yes. We met over a year ago at a ball at Lady Metcalf’s. Since then, we’ve spent quite a lot of time in each other’s company.’ I just happened to be wearing trousers during most of that time.

  ‘Why, Rick!’ Lady Samantha’s eyes, gleaming with undisguised plans for the future, fastened on her son. ‘You never said!’

  Mr Ambrose made an indistinct noise in the back of his throat. It sounded a little bit like a Siberian tiger choking.

  ‘Well, he wouldn’t.’ Sidling up to my dear employer, I gazed up at him from under my lashes. ‘He can be a little shy. I remember, when we were at the Royal Wedding-’

  ‘The Royal Wedding?’

  I didn’t know who had spoken. The voice had been an unfamiliar squeak - one of the hyenas, presumably. When I glanced at them, they were all staring at me, mouths hanging open. Lady Samantha was not in much better shape.

  ‘N-not the Royal Wedding, as…as in…’

  ‘…as in Queen Victoria and Prince Albert? Yes, that one.’ I gave Mr Ambrose a gentle nudge. ‘Have you been holding out on your dear mother? Dear me, why would that be? Come on, tell them all about it. I know you want to.’

  Mr Ambrose’s jaw worked. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw his little finger tapping a furious staccato against the palm of his hand. Finally, he parted his lips and, taking a deep breath, said:

  ‘We were there.’

  His lips shut again.

  The circle of ladies gazed at him, waiting avidly for the story. Inconspicuously, I glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece to see how long it would take them to realise that was all they were going to get out of him. Thirty seconds…forty-five…

  ‘That was it?’ Lady Eveline demanded.

  Under one minute. Impressive.

  Mr Ambrose cocked his head. The silent gesture was as clear a ‘What more do you expect?’ as ever I heard spoken out loud.

  ‘The Royal Wedding?’ Lady Samantha breathed. Her eyes were practically shining with motherly glee, and I could have sworn she suddenly had wedding rings and little hearts for pupils. ‘You truly were there? Together?’

  Mr Ambrose engaged in a manly battle against his vocal cords, but finally he had to pry his lips apart and push out a cool, curt ‘Yes!’

  ‘Oh dear. Oh my goodness…’

  Reaching out, Lady Samantha supported herself against the mantelpiece. She pulled her feather out of her pocket and began fanning herself.

  The eyes of the hyenas became as big as saucers. They stared at Mr Ambrose, then a few of their gazes flickered to me, with an entirely new appreciation. I smiled at them, and placed one hand on Mr Ambrose’s arm.

  *~*~**~*~*

  It was late in the evening. Lady Samantha and her daughter had been busy. Mr Ambrose had been forced, under pain of embarrassing baby pictures, to recount every single little detail of the Royal Wedding. The hyenas stood by, turning progressively greener and greener with envy. Lady Samantha, on the other hand, was in seventh heaven, and her daughter’s eyes sparkled with nefarious plans.

  Even under such pressure, however, Mr Ambrose did not reveal all. He did not reveal my double identity, for instance. And…

  And he didn’t reveal we had held hands almost throughout the entire ceremony.

  When his lips closed tight on the subject, and his gaze met mine, I felt warmth rush up inside me. Somehow, even though I was the one who had brought up the subject, I was intensely glad that he hadn’t mentioned that part. That was something private. Something just between the two of us.

  ‘Miss Linton?’

  My head jerked around. I had been so lost in Mr Ambrose sea-coloured eyes that I hadn’t even noticed someone approaching - which was a problem, considering that the someone in question was my soon-to-be suitor.

  ‘Oh, hello Captain Carter.’

  ‘Good evening, Miss Linton.’ Smiling, he performed a magnificent bow. ‘Lost in thought?’

  ‘Something of the sort.’

  ‘I’m sure all this must be quite something after the quiet life you’ve led at your a
unt and uncle’s.’

  ‘Ehem. Yes. Quiet life. Very quiet.’

  ‘And, of course, in certain bloodstained caves in the Egyptian desert.’

  I looked up, sharply. Captain Carter’s eyes were sparkling. Damn, that man was sharp! How much about my secret escapades did he know? How much did he suspect?

  ‘I haven’t seen much of you since that trip to Egypt,’ he said, softly. ‘I’d like to change that.’

  Here it comes.

  ‘Would you like to go riding with me tomorrow?’

  Oh. I had not expected that. I had reckoned on something more mushy-gushy, like reading poetry or singing love ballads. Glancing down, I wasn’t sure how to answer for a moment. Finally, I managed: ‘I don’t know how to ride.’

  Bloody hell, did I ever hate to admit that there were things I couldn’t do!

  A finger entered my field of vision, then a hand. I glanced up just in time to see Captain Carter reach out. His fingers gently clasped my chin and lifted it.

  ‘Let me teach you.’

  Learn how to ride?

  Excitement rushed through me. To most ladies, it might have been not been important - just another silly sport, like tennis or croquet. But I knew differently. Riding was freedom. If a rider had a good, steady horse, he could go anywhere, escape from anything, be wherever and whoever he wanted to be.

  Or in this case: she.

  ‘Really?’ I demanded, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice and miserably failing.

  ‘Yes, really.’ The captain smirked. ‘Let me guess…you like the idea?’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning at six!’

  I was so excited about the prospect of tomorrow’s lessons that I hardly took in anything from the rest of the evening. I was going to learn to ride! To ride! To fly across the country on the back of a horse and be free! How could I think about anything else but that? I couldn’t! Nothing could catch my attention! Nothing, except…

  A strong, hard hand landed on my shoulder

  ‘So, Miss Linton,’ a familiar cool voice drifted to my ear. ‘I hear you’ll be taking riding lessons on the morrow?’

  Crap.

  ‘Um, well…’

  ‘I had no idea you were so interested in horses. You seem less than enthusiastic about most animals.’

  My back stiffened. I didn’t have to explain myself to him! I didn’t have to apologise for what I wanted. Turning, I fixed him with a fiery glare.

  ‘That’s because they persist in not doing what I tell them to.’

  ‘I know the feeling.’

  ‘Riding will be different. I’ll be in control. I’ll be learning something useful. Something I might very well need.’

  ‘Need?’ Cold eyes boring into me, he cocked his head. ‘When would you need to ride, Miss Linton?’

  Not evading his icy stare, I lifted my chin. ‘You know very well what I am referring to. Certain…expeditions might require certain…skills.’

  Silence.

  Not because he didn’t want to say anything, but because, in this instance, not even Mr Ambrose could find a reason to object. His jaw tightened.

  ‘I hope you enjoy your “lesson”, Miss Linton.’

  And he was gone.

  Just in time. A moment later, Lady Samantha appeared, little hearts still blinking in her baby blue eyes.

  ‘Lillian, my dear!’

  Holy…! I had been promoted from ‘Miss Linton’ to ‘Lillian my dear’ in one evening? I had to say, I was thoroughly impressed with myself. My tactics really had to be working their magic.

  ‘Oh, Lillian, my dear! I’m so glad your brother asked to invite you. It must have been fate.’

  Only if you count a trip to the local tailor as fate.

  ‘I had no idea my son and you knew each other this well.’

  Trust me - you still have no idea.

  ‘Do you think it’s possible that…’ Blushing, she sidled up to me. I felt my body stiffen. I had wanted this, hadn’t I? I had wanted to win!

  Well…yes. I had wanted to chase the hyenas away, and impress Mr Ambrose’s mother. But impress her this much? The look she was giving me made me slightly nervous. Like I was an incredible treasure from the bottom of a bottomless gorge of despair.

  ‘Do you think it’s possible that you…you and my son…’ More colour rushed to her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. ‘No, forget it. Forget I said anything. I’m just babbling aloud the dreams of a silly old woman. And…Oh God! I called you Lillian, didn’t I?’

  If it was at all possible, the colour in her cheeks deepened even more.

  ‘Please forgive me, Miss Linton! I didn’t mean to insult you. I was just so…so…’

  ‘I know.’ Impulsively I reached out, taking hold of her hand. Her skin was papery and wrinkly, but in that moment, I wouldn’t have exchanged it for the hand of the most beautiful angel in heaven. ‘Lady Samantha?’

  Cautiously, she glanced up at me. ‘Yes?’

  I squeezed her hand. ‘Dream your dreams. Sometimes, dreams come true.’

  *~*~**~*~*

  What an evening! Yawning, I slowly made my way through the candle-lit corridors of Battlewood towards my room. Tomorrow would be a big day, and it was already late. If I wanted to be awake for my riding lesson tomorrow, I had better get a good night’s slee-

  A hand shot out from a bedroom door and closed around my arm.

  ‘Hey! What the-?’

  Before I could utter another word, I was jerked into the dark room and pushed up against the wall. My hoopskirt groaned and protested as it was flattened against the wood. A dark figure loomed above me, and in the little moonlight filtering in through the windows I could just make out a pair of eyes boring into me. Cold eyes. Sea-coloured eyes.

  I slapped a hand against his chest.

  ‘Has anyone ever told you that your manners leave a lot to be desired?’

  ‘Yes. You. On multiple occasions.’

  ‘Well, aren’t I observant? You should give me a raise.’

  He lifted one hand. Slowly, torturously slowly, he dragged a single finger down the side of my face. I couldn’t help a shiver running down my spine. ‘Indeed, Miss Linton?’

  ‘Oh yes, indeed, Sir.’

  ‘I don’t give raises.’ With deadly dangerous gentleness, his hand cupped my face. ‘Especially not to people who fraternise with the enemy.’

  ‘Enemy?’ I gave him an innocent look - which dissolved under the icy glare he shot at me in return. I scowled. ‘Captain Carter is not the enemy.’

  ‘To me he is.’

  ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since now!’

  ‘Why?’

  His hand on my cheek tightened its grip, and he bent down, bruising my lips with a fierce kiss. ‘You’re a semi-intelligent female. Try to guess.’

  I didn’t need to. I already knew.

  ‘I’m going to say this only once.’ His words were barely audible. But still, they echoed in the dark room like the peals of an iron bell. ‘Don’t go!’

  I lifted an eyebrow. ‘I’m not going anywhere, Sir.’ Lifting a hand to touch his face, I gently caressed that hard, immovable jaw of his. ‘Strange as it may seem, I feel very comfortable here and now.’

  Swooping down, he claimed my mouth with another hard kiss. After only a moment, he broke away and once more speared me with his icy eyes. ‘You and I both know I am not talking about here and now. Don’t go riding tomorrow!’

  It wasn’t a request. It was an order.

  I sighed. Really, he should have known me better by now.

  ‘Mr Ambrose, Sir?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You can take your order and stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.’

  His eyes burned with cold fire. ‘Oh, I can, can I?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘And where exactly does the sun not shine, Mr Linton?’

  ‘Well, a few places come to mind.’

  Strong hands grabbed my arms, lifting me bodily off the ground
. A moment later I felt a soft mattress at my back, and then a hard Ambrose at my front.

  ‘Why don’t you show me some of them?’ he whispered.

  ‘Ha! In your dreams.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  A shiver ran down my back. Did that really mean what I thought it meant? Did he dream about me… about him and me…?

  My thoughts were cut off by his mouth claiming mine. And, as the sun sank beyond the horizon, we found quite a few interesting places where the sun did not shine. At least not at this hour of the night.

  The Stranger

  ‘All right,’ Captain Carter said, trying very hard to suppress a smirk. ‘Maybe this was not such a good idea.

  ‘This bloody thing might be a bit bloody easier if I could actually look in the bloody direction I’m supposed to ride in! I - no! Hold still, you creature of hell! No, not in a circle! Straight! Do you hear me? You’re supposed to walk straight ahead, you bloody beast!’

  ‘I think it understands the reins better than insults,’ the captain suggested.

  ‘You can take your reins and stuff them up your-’

  By the time I was finished explaining to the good captain where exactly he could stick the reins, he was laughing hysterically.

  ‘Merciful God! Miss Linton, where did you learn such inventive language?’

  I shrugged, and nearly fell off my horse. ‘I guess one picks things up in London society.’

  ‘London society? Some of the words you’ve used I last heard from a Portuguese pirate three years ago, while he was busy cursing me to hell in his native tongue before being executed!’

  ‘Um…well, I attend some very interesting balls. Besides - Don’t move! Don’t move, you beast, understood? I’m in charge here!’

  ‘I’m not quite so sure the shouting method is working,’ the captain dared to suggest. ‘May I show you how to use the reins again?’

  ‘I have everything under control!’ I informed the captain firmly.

  ‘Yes, certainly.’

  ‘But…I wouldn’t mind you showing me an alternative method.’

  ‘Thank you. Here, you hold them like this…’

  Two hours later, we had made real progress: I had acquired over a dozen bruises from falling off my horse, and was now cursing in Arabic instead of Portuguese.