Hunting for Silence (Storm and Silence 5)

‘On the stage of an opera house,’ I cheerfully proclaimed. ‘His opera house.’

Looking at Maria’s face right there and then, for the first time I realized why the expression ‘green-eyed monster’ was used to refer to jealousy.

‘Why!’ My dear older sister’s fist slammed onto the table. ‘Why you? It’s impossible! Not a bloody pudgy gibface[56] like yo—’

‘Maria! Control yourself!’ Gertrude admonished. She was a quiet girl and very rarely played the eldest sister card. But right now, her eyes were sparkling with danger.

But, apparently, Maria didn’t give a flying fig. ‘Why would I? You know as well as I do she’s the worst of all of us! She’s wilful, unladylike, ignorant about anything a girl of good birth ought to know, and as for her looks, well…’ She cast a look at me, and then at the mirror on the wall that clearly said Compare specimen A and B and tell me you don’t realize what I mean.

‘I realize what you mean,’ Ella said, sweetly. ‘Unlike you, she actually has some.’

‘You…! You little…!’

Bravo, Ella!

I was feeling less and less anxious about leaving this house and leaving her behind. Apparently, my little sister had grown quite a bit recently, and was more than capable of taking care of herself.

But even Ella could not hold my twin sister’s wrath long. The soon-to-be-married elephant in the room was just too tempting to ignore.

‘You!’ They both whirled towards me. ‘It’s all your fault! Tell me! How did you do it? What did you do to ensnare him?’

‘Hm, let me think…’ I tapped my chin, thoughtfully. ‘What was it called again…ah, yes! ‘Being nice’. That was one of the things I did. You should try it once in a while. And…what was the other one gain? Oh yes! ‘Having a brain’! That was useful, too, and—’

‘You…!’

Eyes lit with rage, Anne and Maria charged towards me. Unable to restrain herself, Anne reached out to grab me by the collar, and—

—and with his inimitable sense of timing, Mr Rikkard Ambrose pushed open the door.

Anne froze.

‘Something wrong?’ He raised an eyebrow, just one millimetre.

Anne backed off as if her hand had been seared. A smile as sincere as a succubus’s marriage vow appeared on her face. ‘N-no! Of course not. I was just about to hug her and congratulate her!’

‘Indeed?’

‘Yes! It’s been such a wonderful surprise!’ He smile widened. ‘The two of us should have a long chat later. Now that we’re going to be relatives, we should get to know each other better.’

Icy eyes scrutinized my sister for one long moment. Then…

‘No. We shouldn’t.’

Sometimes, I really, really loved Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

‘Seems like your uncle isn’t available at the moment,’ he said, turning to me. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew his silver pocket watch and let it snap open. ‘I have an appointment with the head of a turnip farm in Cheshire in half an hour. Let matters rest here for today. I can come back another day and finish this asking for your hand business.’

On the other hand, there were moments like this one.

But before I could leap forward and try to suffocate my dear fiancée, an angel rushed inside to save the day.

‘Oh no, Mr Ambrose, you mustn’t!” Aunt Brank dashed into the rooms, her arms flailing like a frantic windmill. ‘You mustn’t!”

Angels come in the unlikeliest shapes and sizes.

‘I must not?”

‘I just spoke to my husband! He will be happy to speak with you. Please, come right this way.”