Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

‘Too late. I’m already extremely intelligent. What’s up?’

My dear aunt gave me a look of supreme disdain. ‘Only the prime social event of the year, that is ‘what’s up’, Missy! Have you forgotten that the Duchess of Bedford’s ball is in two days?’

I gave her a cheery smile. ‘No. You can’t forget what you never bothered to find out in the first place.’

My aunt opened her mouth—but she had apparently run out of comebacks. Pity, since I still had about a dozen left. But then, on the other hand, I did have better things to do than to spar with my aunt. Skipping up the stairs, I raced towards the room I shared with my sister Ella. Just before I reached the door, she pulled it open a crack and peeked outside.

‘Ah, it’s you! Get in! It’s here!’

My heart made a leap.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, and I didn’t let aunt and uncle see it, just like you asked. I snuck it out from under Leadfield’s nose just as he was about to bring it in. Thank the Lord he’s as blind as a bat!’

Thank the Lord indeed. If my aunt had gotten hold of the content of that letter, the Duchess of Bedford’s ball would have been the least of my worries. Rushing inside, I snatched the battered envelope out of Ella’s hand and threw myself onto my bed.

‘Not that I want to pry,’ Ella said in a tone that screamed I want to pry! I want to pry so badly! ‘but why are you suddenly getting letters from France of all places?’

Sniffing the letter, I grinned up at her. ‘They’re love letters from my secret admirer, the richest, most powerful man in the entire British Empire.’

‘Lill!’ Poking my shoulder, Ella gave me a reproachful look. ‘Stop jesting with me! Love is a serious matter.’

Gazing down at the letter as if I could see through the envelope, through the letters, all the way to the man who had written them, I swallowed.

You have no idea how right you are, little sister.

‘Well, all right. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.’ She patted my shoulder. ‘I’ll just go and leave you to enjoy your “love letter” in peace. But if it’s a bill, remember uncle won’t pay for it.’

I didn’t see her go. I was still too mesmerised by the letter in my hands. When the door closed with a click behind her, I tore open the envelope, pulled out the letter, and started reading.

Dear Mr Ambrose,

You’re probably surprised at receiving this letter. After all, you somehow happened to forget to mention the address where you would be staying in Paris. Quite an oversight on your part, considering how much I know you love writing long, regular letters to all your loved ones. But not to worry! I squeezed the information out of Karim. So here it is, my first official…

Wait a minute.

I lowered the sheet of paper, frowning. This wasn’t a letter from him. This was my letter, which I had dispatched to him several weeks ago! What did he think he was doing, just sending it back to me?

Hurriedly, I read on. This had to be a mistake! It had to be!

…letter with us as a couple. Because we are still a couple, aren’t we? I’m telling you now, if you’ve found some French coquine over there, you had better stay in France, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences! I’ll rip your head off, do you hear? I’ll rip your head off and stuff it down your throat!

Have I mentioned how much I love you?

Hm. All right, maybe my style wasn’t that polished yet, but I was new to this writing-love-letters thing. Actually, I was new to love altogether. It was exhilarating and frightening, and…and…

And why the heck was there only my letter in the envelope?

He couldn’t have just sent it back without a reply! He couldn’t! Did that mean he no longer loved me? Had he really found someone else? Damn that bloody son of a bachelor! If only I’d never fallen in love with that stone-cold cad! How could he do this to me! He said he loved me! I was going to kill him! Kill him very dead and use his guts for garters!

I was just about to crumple up the letter and throw it away, when something tickled at the back of my mind.

What would the average gentleman do if he received a love letter from his lady? Well, he’d probably go out to buy expensive pastel paper and write a long reply, full of protestations of love and oaths of eternal fidelity.

Only…Mr Ambrose was not the average man.

So what would he do?