Silence Is Golden (Storm and Silence 3)

I stared at Mr Fitzgerald, who rose to his feet and made a bobbing little bow. There he was. The nightmare of nightmares. The terror of terrors. The you-know-what which I feared more than anything else on this earth:

The suitor.

I hate you, or maybe not, or…Oh, to Hell with it!

Blast, blast, blast! How the heck had this happened? How had I ended up here?

This shouldn’t have happened! I remembered it all distinctly: I remembered sitting down for breakfast. I membered Mr Fitzgerald asking whether we were going to the dance at Lady Abercrombie’s this evening, and I remembered saying no. Five times. But apparently that had not been as expressive or significant as the one time my aunt had said yes.

How she was able to finagle an invitation to the ball out of stuffy, old Lady Abercrombie was a mystery to me. The old owl sent out invitations to her balls four weeks in advance, and was mortally insulted if you didn’t reply by next morning at ten o’clock at the latest. But somehow, my aunt had managed it. Her desire to rid herself of her nieces really knew no bounds.

And that was how I came to be walking towards the large double-doors of Lady Abercrombie’s palatial town house, while on my one side, my little sister Ella danced along, totally oblivious, lost in memories of last night’s romantic escapades, while on my other side, my aunt hissed all the reasons into my ear why it would be oh-so-advantageous to marry Mr Fitzgerald.

‘…a large house here in town, and although he’s not of noble blood, he has a considerable estate in the country. He has an income of at least twelve thousand a year - ’

‘Pounds? Pence? Or dead rats?’

‘Don’t use that tone with me, young lady! You could be a lot worse off, you know.’

I gave her a long, long, significant look. ‘Oh, I know.’

‘Don’t you dare act superior, missy! Your uncle and I have been the epitome of generosity! We took you in, clothed you, fed you-’

‘-and tried to marry me off half a dozen times.’

‘Of course! A penniless girl like you should be happy that we would exert ourselves to help you find a husband.’ She let her gaze sweep up and down my figure. ‘God knows, you’d never find one on your own!’

From behind me, I heard a giggle, but I didn’t turn around to look. I knew who it had come from anyway.

‘Well, unlike some people,’ I told the evening air, ‘I’ve never been particularly eager to chain myself to a man.’ Glancing back over my shoulder, I smiled at my twin sisters, Anne and Maria. ‘But it seems that even people who are desperately looking for a rich husband don’t always find one as quickly as they say they will. Isn’t that true, Anne? Maria?’

The death-glares they sent me in reply were answer enough.

We had reached the Abercrombie townhouse by now. My aunt swept through the open door. Servants bowed everywhere around us, taking our hats, shawls, coats and whatever else they thought superfluous. At the door to the ballroom, Lady Abercrombie awaited us, her haggard face somehow managing to radiate even more haughty disapproval than my aunt’s when she looked at me. I almost clapped, so impressed was I by the achievement.

‘My Lady.’ My aunt curtsied as deeply as her stiff neck would allow. ‘So gracious of you to invite us. We are overwhelmed by your kindness.’

‘Hrumph!’ Lady Abercrombie said.

‘Quite right, Your Ladyship!’ my aunt simpered. ‘You’re so right!’ She turned to us. ‘Doesn’t her ladyship express herself with inimitable eloquence, girls?’

‘She didn’t say anything,’ I pointed out.

My aunt sent me a glare that could have blasted the walls of Windsor Castle. Old Lady Abercrombie on the other hand raised an eyebrow, and beckoned me closer. ‘Come here, girl!’

My aunt’s glare intensified tenfold, but there was also a certain vindictive triumph in her eyes. They clearly said: ‘Now you’ve done it! We’ll see how you’ll get yourself out of this one!’

‘The rest of you,’ the old lady commanded, ‘amuse yourselves! I’m sure there’s plenty of food to eat and drinks to drink at my expense, and since I’m not going to invite any of you to another ball in

the foreseeable future, you had better make the most of it.’

‘Um, yes, Your Ladyship. Of course, Your Ladyship.’

My siblings in tow, Aunt Brank retreated, and I was left behind alone with the dragon of this sparkling cave. Around us, people chatted, laughed and nibbled at delicacies. Beside me, old Lady Abercrombie just stood, watching everything with sharp eyes, not saying anything.

She was trying to wear me down with silence. But I had been trained by the best. Lady Abercrombie might have been a tough old shoe to chew, but her cold silence was nothing in comparison to that of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

Finally, she gave it up.