Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

‘For being late?’ I whispered against his lips. ‘Dang! I wish I’d known that earlier. That would have been useful to know on work days during the last two years.’

He gave me a look telling me what exactly he thought of my humour—then kissed me again, long and hard.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ I gasped.

‘Correct,’ he agreed. ‘We should both be in London.’

‘That’s not what I meant! I thought we agreed that we’d talk to my uncle and aunt before….’

‘We did. I came in the back way.’

‘What for?’

Stormy, sea-coloured eyes captured mine. ‘To remind you of what’s waiting for you. And for this.’

One last time, he kissed me. Then he let go and pushed open the door, revealing a red-faced Karim standing guard outside.

‘Don’t leave me waiting too long, Miss Linton. Knowledge is power is time is money.’

And with that, he was gone.

*~*~**~*~*

Our coaches rolled into good old London town early next morning. A strange sense of déjà vu overtook me as we rattled over the cobblestones towards my uncle’s house. I half expected the door to be answered by my sister, giving me the news of Ella’s sickness, although she was sitting right beside me, smiling brightly at Edmund. It felt just like it had back then, with the eerie quiet, and the—

‘Lillian Linton! What in God’s name are you up to? Taking off like that, and then dragging the whole family away from home for one of your hair-brained schemes? Get into the house this instant, young lady, before I come out and drag you inside by the ear!’

I winced.

Ah. Not so eerily quiet after all. Though, perhaps, the deadly silence of an epidemic would have been preferable.

‘Coming, my dear Aunty!’ I called and forced a smile onto my face. Showtime. I nodded to the others in the coach. ‘Wish me luck.’

Ella squeezed my hands. ‘Good luck.’

Eve nodded. ‘Break a leg.’

‘No.’ Anne smirked. ‘Break both legs.’

‘And both arms,’ Maria added.

‘Thanks so much,’ I shot back. ‘Dislocate your shoulder and crack your skull at the next opportunity, won’t you?’

Sliding out of the coach before she could fire back—or before I could let my fear get the better of me and make me run away back to France—I started towards the house. My aunt, the fiery dragon of doom, was awaiting me at the front door.

I raised a hand and waved. ‘Hello there.’

To judge by the expression on my aunt’s face, she was not impressed with my good manners.

‘Into the house, straight away! I’ve got a few things to say to you, young lady!’

I cleared my throat. ‘I’m sure you do. But before you do, could I have a word with Uncle Bufford? I’ve got something to tell him that—’

‘Inside! Now!’

Hm. That went well, didn’t it?

Behind me, I heard the giggles of Anne and Maria.