‘Ah yes.’ In an instant, Mr Ambrose’s face smoothed out, and he was back to his cool, impenetrable persona. ‘Let me introduce you. Karim, Mr Linton - this is Charles Elsby, my father’s steward. Mr Elsby, this is Mr Linton, my private secretary, and Karim, my bodyguard.’
‘Um…charmed.’ Elsby’s gaze was still on Karim’s sabre. Slowly, he raised his eyes to those of the Mohammedan and gave him a weak smile. Karim didn’t smile back.
Finally, Elsby’s gaze returned to Mr Ambrose. Swallowing, he took another step forward - and stopped. It seemed like he had much to say and no idea how to say it in front of so many people and one very sharp sabre.
‘Making the rounds of the tenant farms, I suppose, Elsby?’
‘I was.’ Taking a deep breath as if he’d just come to a decision, the old man stepped towards the door. ‘But not any longer. I’m heading straight home to let His Lordship know you’re coming.’
My ears pricked up. His Lordship? Not Lord Dalgliesh, surely!
Hopefully?
Please, please, please?
‘I hardly think that is necessary.’ Mr Ambrose’s voice was a whip of biting ice. Elsby flinched, but then squared his shoulders and opened the door.
‘Begging your pardon, Master Rikkard, but oh yes, it is.’
And with that, he left the inn, shutting the door behind him. A few errant snowflakes that had fluttered inside drifted to the ground, where they melted instantly. Mr Ambrose didn’t melt. He just stood there, frozen like a block of ice - then suddenly whirled around and marched across the room and up the stairs. Somewhere above, a door slammed hard.
For a moment or two, utter silence reigned in the common room. Finally, the landlord stepped forward with a kettle in hand and a desperately hopeful smile on his face.
‘Um… hot tea, anyone?’
*~*~**~*~*
I took some time to empty and refill myself. The inn not only had decent lavatories, but, astonishingly, decent cooking, too. True, I had to pay for both out of my own pocket, but so what? I could afford it. And besides, I had some time to kill. I couldn’t go upstairs yet. I suspected Mr Ambrose needed some time to himself.
After three helpings of roast ham, I finally put my fork down, nodded at the landlord and started upstairs. The inn was quiet, any sound from outside dampened by the softly falling snow. Our room was at the very end of the corridor, far away from any prying eyes and curious ears. I hesitated in front of the door, Amy’s words echoing in my mind.
And when ye and him are alone next time in a nice, quiet place…
Was it time?
I wanted him. Was here and now the right time to take what I wanted?
Bad Lilly! You saw how upset he was! You can’t coldly and ruthlessly take advantage of him in a situation like that just to get what you want, can you?
Of course I could. I had learned from the best, after all.
I took the last few steps to the door. When I cautiously cracked it open, I expected Mr Ambrose to be asleep or pouring over his papers as usual, but he was doing neither. Instead, he was marching in circles, his back ramrod straight, every step like a punch to the poor wood floor.
The door slid shut behind me.
All right. If I wanted to make my move, now was the time. We were alone in his room together. It was a cold winter night. And with the state he was in right now…
Watch carefully, I heard Amy’s voice whisper in my ear. Wait. And when the time has come, when he’s weak and defenceless - pounce!
I licked my lips. Now was time. I had to pounce! Now! I had to pounce, now!
So why wasn’t I pouncing?
Damn! Why hesitate, Lilly? Do it already!
But he just looked so…so alone. So terribly alone.
Well, go and do it! He won’t feel alone once his clothes are off, and you and he…