Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence Book 5)

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Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence Book 5) Page 26

by Robert Thier


  Apparently not deeming this worthy of a reply, Mr Ambrose pointed down the street, and we proceeded. I still threw confused glances right and left at the empty street, but as we approached Uncle Bufford’s house, my thoughts became more and more preoccupied with what I was going to say. Or rather, how I was going to get Aunt Brank to shut up long enough to be able to say anything.

  Dump a bucket of cold water on her?

  No, that would just make her screech louder.

  Gag her?

  Maybe with Karim’s help I could do it. But then…it would probably not make her a lot more receptive to what I had to say. And my birthday was still a long way off. I technically still needed a guardian’s permission to marry.

  Well…

  There would be one way to ensure her cooperation. But…

  I glanced at Mr Ambrose.

  ‘How should I introduce you?’ I asked, cautiously. ‘As Mr Ambrose, or Lord Ambrose, Heir to The Honourable The Marquess Ambrose?’

  His mouth slammed into a thin line. His face turned from marble to granite.

  ‘Mister. Always just mister.’

  ‘It might help smooth the way if—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No.’

  All right. That was one avenue closed.

  If only I could get to Uncle Bufford first. As soon as I showed him Mr Ambrose’s bank balance he’d be happy to get him as a son-in-law without asking his name. Most likely, he wouldn’t even ask about age, size, sex or species.

  He might ask what kind of man he is, though.

  Yes. He really might. My grumpy uncle and I had gotten to know each other quite well during the last year or two. He might actually care about my happiness. The challenge would be getting to him. Aunt Brank was a tough coconut to crack.

  Time seemed to pass far too fast. One moment, we were walking away from the docks, the next, we turned the corner and saw my uncle’s house farther down the street.

  Mr Ambrose stopped, and turned me towards him.

  ‘Do you have a change of clothes somewhere?’

  I nodded. Somehow, my mouth was too dry for an actual answer.

  ‘Adequate. You go change and prepare them for my arrival. I will take a brief trip to Empire House to dress appropriately for the occasion. I shall return directly.’

  ‘Dress appropriately? You mean you actually own a second tailcoat?’

  Looking most superior, Mr Ambrose straightened his lapels. ‘No. But I can have this one ironed.’

  A smile spreading across my face, I reached up to touch his face. ‘You do that. I’ll be waiting for you.’

  He nodded, and started to turn. My hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  ‘And…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hurry up. I’m not good at waiting.’

  ‘Neither,’ Mr Ambrose told me and took hold of my face, ‘am I.’

  And he kissed me, there, right in the middle of the street. Nobody was watching. The street was still beautifully, wondrously empty. After a long, long while, he let go. His dark, sea-coloured eyes bored into mine for a moment.

  ‘Until later.’

  And with that, he turned and vanished into the London fog.

  Gathering all my courage, I turned, too, and headed towards the garden wall. As I unlocked and slipped through the familiar little gate into the back garden, a feeling of unreality came over me. Could it really be that I was doing this for the very last time? That soon, I wouldn’t be Miss Lillian Linton anymore? That instead, I would be Mrs Lillian Ambrose?

  Well…the last part isn’t necessarily decided yet. After all, why should you be the one to change your name?

  Hm…what would Mr Ambrose say to becoming Mr Rikkard Linton?

  Nothing, probably. A whole lot of ice-cold, very explicit, very determined nothing.

  Smiling, I slipped into the garden shed. Married life was going to be interesting.

  As quickly as I could, I changed into my (slightly dusty) spare female outfit. Then, like a condemned woman going to meet the aunt squad, I marched to the front door and knocked.

  No response.

  Well, that wasn’t really that odd. You could usually brush your teeth, write a sonnet and do a few cartwheels in the time it took Leadfield, our ancient butler, to reach the door. But…this time I didn’t even hear a hint of the slow, lopsided gate of the dear old mummified fellow.

  ‘Hello?’

  I knocked again.

  Nothing.

  For the first time, then, it really sank in: the streets around me were empty. Completely empty. How often did that happen in London, even on a Sunday? No, especially on a Sunday! People should be heading to the public parks in droves. Instead, an unnatural silence hung over the city. Trust me, by now I was an expert on unnatural silences.

  ‘Hello? Hello! Is anyone in there? Answer me, dammit!’ I started pounding on the door. ‘Open up right now!’

  Finally, footsteps hurried down the corridor. The latch clicked, and the door slowly slid open just wide enough to let me see a little slice of a face on the other side. It was not my aunt’s.

  Homecoming Surprise

  ‘Maria? What are you doing at the door? Where is Leadfield?’

  ‘L-Lilly?’

  ‘You’re not sure? That hurts my feelings. I distinctly remember you telling me once you’d recognize my ugly mug from sixty paces.’

  ‘N-no! It can’t be you! Go away!’

  She tried to slam the door on me. She honestly tried to slam the door shut right in my face! Luckily, you don’t spend a year working for Rikkard Stubborn-As-A-Rock Ambrose without learning a thing or two about persistence. My foot wedged itself in the door before I even had time to think about it.

  ‘No! Don’t come in! Leave! I don’t want to get sick!’

  The barrage of words I had been about to unleash died on my lips.

  Sick?

  My eyes flicked from left to right, once again taking in the empty streets, the closed shutters, the barred doors. A cold shiver went down my back. And unfortunately, it wasn’t because Rikkard Ambrose was standing behind me.

  ‘Maria, it’s really me. It’s me, Lilly! Open up!’

  ‘My stupid sister has run way! She isn’t here! She can’t be!’

  ‘I’m back. That happens when people return, you know. And I’m as healthy as a horse. Now open the door!’

  For a moment, nothing but silence came from the other side of the door.

  ‘How do I know this really is Lilly?’ Maria’s suspicious voice finally reached my ears. ‘You sound like her, but—’

  ‘Open the door this minute, you bloody little nitwit, or I’ll kick it down and stab you with my parasol!’

  There was another moment of silence.

  ‘All right. It is you.’

  Slowly, the door creaked open.

  ‘Lilly! Good God, Lilly, where have you been all this time?’

  I waved her question away. ‘Never mind that now. What’s going on here? Where are Uncle and Aunt?’

  Maria swallowed.

  ‘Up in the North of England.’

  What? All that bloody anxiety for nothing? I had composed over five different speeches to explain my marriage machinations on the way here, and now it was all for nothing? Crap! ‘Do you think that if they were here we’d still be stuck here? We should have left the city days ago! But you know Uncle Bufford! He left us enough money for water and dried bread crusts, but not for coach tickets out of the city, let alone the rent of a place somewhere safe in the country!’

  ‘What do you mean, somewhere safe? Why did they leave? What happened?’

  ‘An…an old army friend of uncle’s died, and they went up to the funeral. But then…then…’

  Trembling, she sank against the wall.

  Maria, trembling? And worse, not trying to insult or harass me? Dear God. Things had to be bad.

  ‘Then people started dying.’

  ‘An epidemic?’ I squeezed p
ast around the lump in my throat. ‘What kind?’

  ‘How should I know? I’m no doctor!’

  ‘Yes, but you have eyes, and you can read the paper.’

  ‘The newspaper?’ She wrinkled her oh-so-delicate nose. ‘That’s unladylike!’

  With difficulty, I resisted the temptation to slap some sense into her. Considering how thick her head was, the sense would probably not reach the inside of her skull even if I slapped her all the way to Birmingham.

  ‘You have to know something!’

  Maria’s eyes lowered. Her voice was nothing but a whisper when she said, ‘Cholera. They say it’s cholera.’

  I felt the blood drain from my face.

  ‘Is everyone still all right here? None of you are feeling ill, are you?’

  ‘Well…until recently, yes. But…’

  Something clenched tight around my heart.

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Well, a few days ago, Ella started feeling poorly and…’

  She probably said more after that. Knowing Maria, a lot more, and most of it useless chatter. But I didn’t hear anything besides one name.

  Ella.

  Dear Lord, not her! Please, not her!

  ‘Where is she?’

  My voice sounded far, far away, as if it belonged someone else. A very capable, determined someone.

  ‘Well, in her room, but…’

  ‘Bring me to her right now!’

  ‘I, um…’

  I suddenly felt very cold.

  ‘Maria? You have been taking care of her, haven’t you? Tell me you’ve been taking care of her!’

  My sister crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  ‘She’s sick! Everyone says cholera is caused by bad air! I can’t risk to—’

  Taking a step closer, I pinned her to the wall with a look I had learned from a certain someone. As I had the voice.

  ‘Take. Me. To. Her. Now.’

  Never in my life had I seen my sister move that fast. In fifteen seconds we were at Ella’s door. Maria hesitated.

  ‘Open it,’ I ordered.

  She reached for the knob and she pushed open the door. Stepping inside, we saw Ella lying sleeping on the bed, and a butt sticking out of the open window.

  Wait just a minute…

  A butt?

  A moment later, it was followed by a back, and then…

  ‘You!’

  At Maria’s gasp, the young man tumbled backwards into the room he’d been trying to climb into. He rolled around and I stared down into the slightly guilty, but far more determined face of Edmund Conway.

  ‘Mr Conway!’ Maria exclaimed. ‘What are you doing in here? This is a lady’s room! That’s most improper!’

  It was decided. Karim would be paying my sister a visit—with a really big sabre.

  ‘Maria?’ I said in my most civilized, calm, I’m-going-to-murder-you-in-two-seconds tone. ‘Shut up and get out. Now.’

  She opened her mouth to shoot back an indignant reply—then realized she might be breathing contagious air, and reconsidered.

  ‘I was leaving in any case. Have your fun, Lilly. Just you wait till Aunt gets home. You’ll get what’s coming to you!’

  A really, really big sabre.

  ‘I don’t doubt it. I look forward to it.’

  Huffing, she exited the room, leaving me alone with the piano-tuner on the floor.

  Edmund looked up at me. I met his eyes.

  ‘You’ve been visiting her regularly, haven’t you?’

  He raised his chin, stubbornly. ‘Yes, I have! And I don’t care what you say, I’m going to continue to come here.’

  ‘No, you’re not.’

  ‘Yes, I—’

  ‘Because you and your parents are coming with us.’

  He blinked. For a moment, he looked at me as if the piano in his head needed re-tuning. ‘Err…come? Where?’

  ‘Anywhere! Away from here.’ I pierced him with a look. ‘You don’t imagine I’m going to let my little sister stew in her misery here? If this sickness is really caused by infected air, she needs to get out of here pronto!’

  ‘L-Lill?’

  Both our heads snapped around to the bed.

  ‘Ella! You’re awake!’

  Both Edmund and I started forward at the same time. I beat him to the punch, but only because he tripped over his own legs while trying to scramble to his feet. Falling to my knees beside the bed, I grabbed Ella’s hand.

  ‘Lill? Is that really you?’

  I hardly recognized her voice. It was rough and dry like old sandpaper. Schooling my face to not betray a hint of my shock, I leaned over her.

  ‘You really needn’t have gone to all this trouble, you know,’ I told her. ‘You could have just sent me a postcard saying how much you missed me. You needn’t have caught yourself some silly illness just to get my attention.’

  Ella laughed. Or at least she tried to. Rapidly, it devolved into a rattling cough. I winced.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re back, Lill.’

  ‘So am I. I’ve got big plans ahead of me, and I’m going to need you. So you’d better stop all this silly lying about and coughing right now and get better. That is an order, understood?’

  She gave that dry laugh again, obviously thinking I was joking.

  Well, aren’t you?

  Hm…

  Maybe I had spent just a little too much time with Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got plans for the future, Lill.’ Ella squeezed my hand. ‘But I’m afraid you’ll have to manage without me. It’s getting worse day by day.’

  ‘What does the doctor say?’

  Silence pervaded the room.

  ‘Ella? A doctor has been to see you, right?’

  She glanced down at her hands. ‘Well…’

  ‘I tried!’ Edmund stepped forward, his eyes fastened to Ella like romantic superglue. ‘But there’s an epidemic in the city! Doctors’ prices have shot through the roof. All I could afford was some quack from the East End who wanted to bleed her. Besides, even if I did have the money, I would have no idea whom to ask! Good doctors are few and far between. I don’t have the kind of funds or connections you’d need to get someone from Harley Street.’

  ‘You’re right,’ I agreed, rising to my feet. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Lill?’ Ella eyed me suspiciously. ‘You’ve got that look on your face. What are you planning?’

  ‘Well, let me put it like this…if there were a way to get you away from here—not just you, Ella, but Edmund, his mother, his father, Lisbeth, Gertrude, oh, and Anne and Maria, curse her rotten eyeballs, and find all of you a nice place in the country for the time being with doctors to look after you, and all you could possibly need to get well again, what would you say?’

  Ella blinked up at her. ‘Well, I’d say that is a nice fantasy, but—’

  ‘Good. We leave in half an hour.’

  Turning, I marched out of the room. I suppose I should have stayed, should have explained, but I couldn’t stay a second longer in that room. Seeing Ella like that, her cheeks sunken in, wrinkles around her eyes as if she had aged ten years in a day…

  Don’t think about it! Not now! Action now. Thinking later. Crying never. Because tears won’t be necessary. Nothing is going to happen to Ella.

  At least not if I could help it.

  ‘Leadfield!’

  Slow footsteps approached. After a moment or three, the aged butler stuck his head out of the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, Miss?’

  He didn’t seem particularly surprised I was back. Well…that was about to change.

  ‘Call the family. We’re leaving.’

  The butler’s eyes widened. ‘Leaving?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘For a walk in the park? I don’t know if under the current conditions that is a particularly wise—’

  ‘No. We’re leaving town. Ring the gong. Tell everyone to be dressed and down here in a quarter of an hour. We’re closing up the hou
se.’[47]

  He opened his mouth—but then he met my eyes, and closed it again.

  ‘Yes, Miss!’

  Maybe I hadn’t spent too much time with Mr Ambrose after all. Maybe it was just enough. Listening to him giving orders could be quite educational.

  ‘Is your nephew here, Leadfield?’

  ‘Yes, Miss!’

  ‘Send him to rent a coach—no, two—from the closest stable. Big ones. We’ll need coachmen, too.’

  ‘Coaches? But Miss, I don’t think your uncle left enough money to—’

  He broke off when I reached into my pocket and dumped a purse into his hand.

  ‘That should be more than enough.’

  ‘Yes, Miss!’

  ‘I’ll be going out. I expect everything to be ready when I return.’

  ‘Certainly, Miss!’

  And he hobbled off as fast as a racing snail.

  I turned and marched out of the front door. I had things to attend to. My family weren’t the only people I needed to get safely out of town. Only minutes later, I arrived at Patsy’s mother’s house. I knocked.

  It took a while before the door opened. And when it did, it wasn’t my female steam engine of a best friend on the other side, but a dignified, grey-haired butler.

  ‘Miss Linton. What a pleasure to see you.’

  ‘I’d like to see Miss Patsy, please. Could you announce me?’

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Miss, but Miss Patsy is not at home. She and her mother went to Bath for a few weeks.’

  ‘Bath? How long has she been gone?’

  ‘More than a fortnight, I believe, Miss.’

  ‘And my other friends? Eve? Flora?’

  ‘As far as I know, she asked them to accompany her, Miss.’

  Of course she had. It wasn’t like Patsy to leave anybody out. I bet she scoured the whole of London for me before giving up on me. I felt a sudden twinge of guilt. I should have let them know where I was. But the main thing was that they were out of danger, blissfully ignorant of what was going on.

  ‘All right, thank you. If Patsy comes back, please let her know I asked after her, and…’ Pulling a piece of paper out of my pocket, I scribbled a hurried note, explaining Ella’s condition. ‘…give her this, will you?’

  ‘Certainly Miss. Good day.’

  ‘Good day to you, too.’

  The door closed in my face and I whirled around, marching back towards home. I was just about to turn into the street where my uncle’s house stood when something tall and black came around the corner fast.

 

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