‘If Adaira hears you didn’t want to come, she will be heartbroken.’
‘Heartbroken? She will be spitting fire!’
‘True.’ For the first time since the conversation had begun, there was the tiniest smile in Lady Samantha’s voice. ‘But she will also be heartbroken. Please - don’t make me tell her you didn’t want to come.’
Silence. And then:
‘I’ll come-’
‘Oh, thank you! Thank - ’
‘-if there is no important business detaining me! I will not put everything on hold merely to gratify the foolish wishes of a silly young girl, mother! I will come only if I have no reason to be elsewhere! More than likely, something will come up. If I don’t appear, don’t be surprised.’
I could feel Lady Samantha wanting to argue, but she and I both knew that this was the best offer she was going to get.
‘All right. If that is how you wish it…’
‘It is. And now get out, woman! I have work to do.’
‘Yes, of course. I shall tell Adaira to expect you.’
‘Only if nothing important comes up, Mother. Only then!’
*~*~**~*~*
‘Oh no,’ I confirmed once more, smiling up at Mr Ambrose. ‘I definitely didn’t listen at the keyhole.’
He stared at me for a few moments more, his dark, sea-coloured eyes boring into me with an intensity that made me shiver. Finally, he righted himself and nodded.
‘I see.’
Whirling around, he marched towards the window and planted himself there, tall and erect, his hands clasped behind his back. He stared out over the City of London. The light of the slowly sinking sun that flooded in through the windows cast a fiery halo around him, and he almost looked like an avenging angel.
Which was ridiculous, of course. Mr Ambrose would never work for anyone - not even for God. And most certainly not for free.
I don’t know how long he stood there. I didn’t dare move or make a sound. There was a tension in the air that went far beyond the normal deadly hostility radiating from him. Finally, when I had started to believe that he would continue standing like this until kingdom come, he said:
‘Mr Linton?’
‘Yes, Sir?’
‘Pack your things! I shall await you ready to depart at St Katherine’s Docks at 6 am tomorrow morning.’
I stared at his broad, rock-hard back. Maybe my ears still weren’t working correctly?
‘E-excuse me, Sir?’
‘I don’t excuse anything or anyone, Mr Linton. Most especially not you.’
‘But I don’t understand, Mr Ambrose, Sir! Why St Katherine’s Docks? Why tomorrow at six? Are we leaving?’
He turned around then, fixing me with his ice-cold gaze.
‘Don’t you remember, Mr Linton? We have an urgent business trip to go on.’
‘We have?’
‘Oh yes. Or, to be more precise, a treasure hunt. You had better pack thoroughly. We won’t be able to get anything we need in the jungle. South America awaits!’