Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence Saga Book 4)

by Robert Thier

  I didn’t quite know how to answer that, to be honest. I had never considered an armed escort as one of the necessary preparations for a family Christmas. But then I remembered Aunt Brank, and Anne and Maria. When you thought about it like that…

  ‘Where are they?’ I demanded. ‘I’ve seen no one except Karim.’

  ‘Some are camped out in the forest all around the hall. A few are permanent members of the staff here.’

  ‘Permanent members of the-’

  A look from him cut me off. ‘I like to keep an eye on my father’s activities.’

  And an eye on how your little sister is doing, I thought, but didn’t say a word aloud. I was too busy gazing up the man in front of me, at his hard, perfectly chiselled face, his beautiful cold eyes, wondering how I ever thought an enemy could take him by surprise.

  ‘These men…they had their guns trained on Dalgliesh during that whole little confrontation out in the courtyard, didn’t they?’

  ‘Certainly. What do you think I pay them for?’

  Take him by surprise? Ha! He was Mr Rikkard Ambrose. Slowly, a grin began to tug at the corners of my mouth. We were on more even footing than I had thought.

  And besides…even if those men hadn’t been there, there had been one more gun trained on Dalgliesh in that moment. One that nobody, not even Mr Ambrose, had known about.

  You want war, Dalgliesh? All right, you can have it!

  ‘What do you think he’s planning?’ I whispered, right into Mr Ambrose’s chest.

  ‘I have no idea. But whatever it is, it’ll have to wait for tomorrow.’

  Only then I noticed how dark it had gotten around us. The fire in the hearth was the only source of light in the room now. Not even the moon, hidden behind thick clouds as it was, sent a sliver of light in through the windows. Exhaustion flooded over me. Captain Carter, all those ladies, Lord Dalgliesh…it all suddenly became too much. I could see it in Mr Ambrose, too. In the light of the flames his face was still an impassively perfect mask, but that tension in his shoulders…

  He was just as exhausted as I was.

  But how could one sleep in a house that held the world’s worst enemy?

  Mr Ambrose, apparently, had an answer to that ready. A determined hand grasped me by the shoulder, pushing me forward. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself stumbling through the connecting door into his room, where Karim was waiting, a silent sentinel in the corner.

  ‘What…what are you doing?’

  ‘You are going to share my bed tonight, Mr Linton.’

  ‘I’m going to what? But I-’

  His eyes flashed in the darkness. ‘No buts! Do you think I would dare letting you out of my sight while Dalgliesh is within ten miles of this place?’

  It was the tremor in his voice that did it. It was so, so slight…hardly detectable with the human ear. But I heard it. He wasn’t simply being dictatorial. He was scared. Scared for me.

  I nodded. ‘All right.’

  I felt his arms tighten around me. Looking up, Mr Ambrose met the eyes of his bodyguard, and in that one look conveyed a command as unshakable as any of the Ten Commandments.

  Karim nodded. ‘I shall stand guard before your door.’

  Then, to my utter shock, he turned to me and, in a voice that almost sounded…kind? He said, ‘Do not fear, Sahiba. I shall defend this door with my last breath. No one will cross this threshold as long as I have life in my body.’

  And before I could reply, he stepped outside and turned, taking up his guard position in front of the door, from which I knew he would not move unless hell broke loose. The door slid shut with a click, and the tension in my body that up until this point I hadn’t realised was there, eased the tiniest bit.

  ‘Come.’ Strong arms slid around me, pulling me towards the bed. I was so tired, I didn’t even care that I was still in my trousers and tailcoat. I just let myself be pulled into bed, snuggling close against the hardest and most wonderfully uncomfortable cushion I had ever encountered in my life. Long, smooth fingers stroked through my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

  ‘My little ifrit…’

  ‘Mmmm…’

  ‘Sleep safe. Nothing and no one is going to get to you.’

  I believed him. Slowly, peacefully, I sank into velvety darkness-

  -and was rudely awakened by voices arguing outside. Blinking, I tried to shield my eyes against the sudden sunlight. Sunlight? Yes, it was morning again. But if this wasn’t a nocturnal attack of Dalgliesh’s, who was trying to get in?

  That very moment, Karim’s terrifying growl came from outside.

  ‘I warn you. Not one step farther! Ambrose Sahib gave strict orders-’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’

  No. No, that can’t be…

  ‘Ambrose Sahib authorised me to use deadly force, if necessary!’

  ‘I said shut up, you big oaf!’

  …her?

  ‘Adaira Sahiba, I cannot allow you-’

  ‘Out of my way!’

  My eyes went wide and flew to meet those of Mr Ambrose. For once, his weren’t full of icy determination. If they were cold as usual, that was only because he was frozen in shock.

  ‘What do we do?’ I hissed, pulling the blanket over me, instinctively.

  Silence.

  At least from Mr Ambrose. Karim was rather desperately loquacious.

  ‘For the last time, these are the Sahib’s private chambers. I cannot allow a young lady to enter-’

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, bushy beard! He’s my brother! I’ve seen him with his trousers down more times than I care to remember. Get out of my way, will you?’

  ‘No, Sahiba! Don’t- ouch!’

  ‘I said get out of the way!’

  And before I could move another muscle, the door swung open and Adaira strode into the room. ‘Rick, I have to talk to you! I demand to know what this-’

  Then her eyes landed on the bed. The bed in which Mr Ambrose and I lay huddled together under the blankets. Her eyes went big as saucers, and she stopped in her tracks. ‘Miss Linton!’

  Bloody hell! It was over.

  Well, not quite. The worst was yet to come.

  Slowly, I dropped the sheet. At the sight of my tailcoat and trousers, Adaira’s eyes decided saucers weren’t nearly big enough and tried for a career as dinner plates. ‘Mister Linton?’

  I raised my hand and gave her a little wave. ‘Err…Hello there.’

  Bugger!

  Adaira was still staring. She simply didn’t seem able to wrap her pretty little head around what she was seeing. Slowly, she took a step back and sat down, unaware that she had sat on a dresser instead of a chair. Still staring, she pointed a trembling finger at me.

  ‘Mr Linton. Mr Victor Linton.’

  ‘Well…yes. And no.’

  ‘Mr Victor Linton. In bed with my brother.’

  ‘Um…yes.’

  ‘Oh well….that’s…that’s just…Bugger it all!’

  ‘Adaira!’ Mr Ambrose snapped, sitting up abruptly to glare at his little sister. ‘Mind your language.’

  Her eyes flew to him and suddenly flashed with fire. ‘I’ll say whatever I bloody well want, thank you very much. Besides, it wasn’t a curse. It was a description! The two of you were…oh my God! I can’t even…!’

  I cleared my throat demurely. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’

  She raised an eyebrow at me.

  ‘All right, all right, it probably is. But still-’

  I didn’t get to finish. Springing to her feet, Adaira started pacing up and down gesticulating wildly.

  ‘Hell! Bloody, stinking hell! Rick, do you have any idea what will happen if people….Oh God, I don’t even want to think about it! And if mother hears about this…no, no, no! She’s going to have a coronary. She’ll think it’s her fault. She will! She’ll tell herself she should never have let you play with those dolls when you were a toddler, and-’

  My head whipped around to stare at Mr Ambrose. ‘You pla
yed with dolls?’

  He gave me an arctic look. ‘Mr Linton! Would you please focus on the most important subject of the current discussion?’

  A grin spread across my face. ‘I am! What kind of dolls? Were they nice and cuddly?’

  ‘Be quiet! The both of you!’ Pulling out her folded fan, Adaira waved it in our direction like a sword. ‘You’ve done enough damage for one day - or should I say night? Good God! The thought of what the two of you have been up to…’

  ‘Actually, we just-’

  ‘Don’t! I don’t want to know!’ Pressing a hand hard over each ear, Adaira retreated, grabbing the doorknob of the connecting door. ‘I have to think! I have to get out of here! And…heck.’ Her eyes darted to me. ‘I have to warn your sister! She doesn’t have any idea what’s going on here, does she, Mr Linton? You have been making the beast with two backs with my brother all this time, and have dragged that poor, innocent girl into this house of sin you’ve created, this Sodom and Gomorrah? What kind of man are you? Oh, I don’t even want to know! Where is her room? Tell me! Where can I find her?’

  I pondered how best to answer that question. ‘Um…well, you see…’

  ‘Never mind! I’ll find her myself!’

  And she dashed through the connecting door, into my room, on the search for clues.

  There followed a few moments of silence.

  Then, slowly, she backed out of the room again, clutching an empty dress in her hand.

  ‘Why,’ she asked in a very calm, very collected voice, ‘is there a lady’s dress on your dresser, Mr Linton? The same dress I saw your sister wear the first time I met her?’

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I simply rose to my feet, took the dress out of her unresisting hand, and held it up against myself, raising my chin and meeting her gaze. Adaira’s eyes went wide with comprehension. Wider than saucers. Wider than dinner plates. Wider than wagon wheels, actually.

  ‘Oh my,’ she breathed.

  ‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘Let’s just say…I’m versatile.’

  *~*~**~*~*

  ‘So…you’re really a girl under that tailcoat?’

  It was about a quarter of an hour later. Adaira and I were alone in Mr Ambrose’s room. My dear employer had departed to establish new security parameters with his men, and to avoid more questions on the subject of dolls. No matter. I would get my hands on him sooner or later. For now, it was more important to acquaint his little sister with my alter ego.

  I smiled at Adaira.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

  ‘Really? You’re sure?’ Cautiously, Adaira poked a finger in my side - then yelped and pulled it back when she felt something hard.

  ‘Relax! That’s just my corset.’

  ‘R-really?’

  ‘Yes!’ I grinned. ‘I’m one hundred per cent certified female. Here, see?’ Taking her fan, I snapped it open and waved air at myself and batted my eyelashes in a way no self-respecting man could have imitated without choking to death. Well, except Sir Philip Wilkins, maybe.

  ‘Heaven be praised! You’re a girl. A real, honest to God girl!’ Placing a hand over her heart, she sank back into an armchair. ‘Thank God! My brother is a ruthless womaniser!’

  ‘That’s one sentence I’d never thought to hear out of a sister’s mouth,’ I commented.

  ‘Well, considering the alternative…’ Adaira shook her head, dazed - then suddenly started to laugh. ‘Heck…I only just realised! You have been his secretary for over a year haven’t you? How long has this been going on? How long has my dear brother, the patron saint of miserdom and abstention, been carrying on an illicit office affair behind the backs of London’s high society?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it an illicit-’

  ‘How long?’

  I felt my face heat. I was blushing! Why was I blushing? I was a feminist! A strong, independent woman, who happened to believe that a woman’s body was her own and that she could do with it whatever she liked, thank you very much. I didn’t care about social norms or other people’s opinions.

  So why are your ears getting red from the nosy questions of a pesky young girl?

  ‘Ha!’ She pointed at me, grinning as if she had won the grand prize in a lottery. ‘I knew it! You’ve been at it this whole time!’

  ‘What? No, we-’

  ‘Ooooh, this is sweet! So sweet.’ She rubbed her hands, her eyes dancing in ecstasy. ‘I’m never going to let him forget about this. My dear brother had better not dare be difficult next time I want to go dancing with Thomas Ecclestone. If he is - oh, the things I’ll do…’ She sighed in bliss, fully in devious little-sibling mode.

  I decided this would be the best time - maybe the only time - for me to escape. Cautiously, I shifted towards the door. But the moment I tried to slide away, she abruptly returned from big brother torture paradise and grabbed my arm.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going? You’re not getting out of this room until you’ve told me every single little detail about the two of you. I want to know how you managed to convince the king of chauvinists to take on a girl! You’ve been with him on his travels, right? Was it dangerous? Did you see pirates? Indians? Pyramids?’

  ‘Err…well, pirates and Indians, yes. Pyramids, no, not unless you count the South American kind.’

  ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.’ She was jumping up and down like an overexcited baby kangaroo. ‘Do you think he’ll take me along one day, too? I’ve always wanted to see America, and Paris, and Rome and the African jungle, and India and…oh, we’ll talk about that later! Tell me about yourself? How did you manage to talk him around? What did you do? Did you seduce him with your feminine wiles? Did you work your irresistible charm on him until finally he succumbed to you and-’

  Clearly, I decided, someone had to check up on Adaira’s reading material. Her mother obviously wasn’t paying close enough attention.

  ‘I most certainly did not,’ I told her. ‘I was accepted for the job solely for my intelligence and diligence as a working woman.’

  ‘You were?’ Now an expression of awe was spreading across the girl’s face. ‘By my brother?’

  ‘Yes. The seducing with feminine wiles came later.’

  ‘I knew it! How did you do it? How?’

  I smiled.

  ‘Come,’ I told her. Gently grasping her arm, I led her to the bed and settled us both down, relaxing for the first time since she had burst in through the door. ‘Now that you know, it’s probably best if I tell you everything. It all started on a misty, cold morning in London, on the day of the general election…’

  *~*~**~*~*

  My wide-eyed audience went through several stages while I told my story: incredulity, awe, admiration and voracious curiosity, finally settling on hilarity. By the time I had ended my story, Adaira was sprawled on the floor, laughing hysterically. Bottom line: she was so relieved that her brother wasn’t going to be executed for buggery, and so happy she’d gained a major piece of leverage for the sibling wars, that she didn’t care a bit about the fact she had caught him in bed with a girl he was not married to. Perhaps not the ideal positive impression a girl could hope to make on her man’s sister, but you couldn’t have everything, right?

  As for my alter ego, Mr Linton - Adaira was so eager to hear about all of my adventures that she wasn’t really bothered by the fact I was a crossdresser. By the time we were finished talking, Lady Adaira Ambrose and I were the best of friends. Somehow, I felt as if I’d known this fiery girl with the eerily familiar sea-coloured eyes all my life.

  Which was the reason why I felt comfortable enough to take a deep breath and ask, ‘Adaira?’

  ‘Yes?’

  Somehow, during our little chat, we had switched to first names.

  ‘I was wondering…Lord Dalgliesh-’

  The mere mention of the name caused the smile to vanish from her face. A storm started brewing in her eyes. ‘That man doesn’t belong under this roof!’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ I agree
d. ‘But what I want to know is: why? What did he do to all of you? To your brother in particular?’

  She shook her head, a frown marring her lovely brow. ‘I wish I knew. But I was only five years old back then, and when that night came…’ She shuddered. ‘All I know is that Dalgliesh and my brother had been friends. Dalgliesh was a sort of mentor or elder brother to him. Rick followed him around everywhere. Then, that night came…that terrible night. Someone from Dalgliesh’s staff came to visit, and the next thing I know, wild shouts are coming from downstairs. Father bellowing, Rick yelling back - things were being thrown around! I was afraid they’d kill each other. The next morning, my brother was gone. That was the last I saw of him for over a decade.’

  She glanced at me. ‘In a way, I never saw him again. Because the happy, carefree big brother I knew never came back from America. That cold, calculating man who came back…’ She swallowed, moisture glinting at the corner of her eyes. ‘He’s a stranger. I don’t know if I know him.’

  I felt a tug at my heart. Instinctively, I wanted to fold the girl in my arms and hug her close - but, just as instinctively, I knew that would be the completely wrong thing to do. She was an Ambrose. She had pride. Lots of it.

  Her eyes suddenly became hard again. ‘But one thing I know: just like Dalgliesh was the man my brother most admired when he was young, he’s now the man my brother hates more than any other in the world. If Rick decides it’s time to have it out with Dalgliesh here and now, we are in deep, deep trouble.’

  *~*~**~*~*

  We sat there for a few minutes in silence. Finally, I elbowed her gently in the ribs. ‘Hey - isn’t it time for breakfast? I’m hungry.’

  Immediately, she brightened. ‘Of course! And…oh my!’ She covered her mouth with a hand, hiding her sudden grin. ‘I only just realised! I get to parade you in front of the whole household in trousers and a tailcoat, and only I will know that there’s a girl under there! Please let me take you to breakfast as a man! Please!’

  ‘Certainly.’ Rising, I gave a mock bow. ‘I wouldn’t be a proper gentleman if I didn’t offer to escort a young lady to the table, now, would I?’ And I offered her my arm.

  She nearly keeled over from laughing.