Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

She shook her head, a frown marring her lovely brow. ‘I wish I knew. But I was only five years old back then, and when that night came…’ She shuddered. ‘All I know is that Dalgliesh and my brother had been friends. Dalgliesh was a sort of mentor or elder brother to him. Rick followed him around everywhere. Then, that night came…that terrible night. Someone from Dalgliesh’s staff came to visit, and the next thing I know, wild shouts are coming from downstairs. Father bellowing, Rick yelling back - things were being thrown around! I was afraid they’d kill each other. The next morning, my brother was gone. That was the last I saw of him for over a decade.’

She glanced at me. ‘In a way, I never saw him again. Because the happy, carefree big brother I knew never came back from America. That cold, calculating man who came back…’ She swallowed, moisture glinting at the corner of her eyes. ‘He’s a stranger. I don’t know if I know him.’

I felt a tug at my heart. Instinctively, I wanted to fold the girl in my arms and hug her close - but, just as instinctively, I knew that would be the completely wrong thing to do. She was an Ambrose. She had pride. Lots of it.

Her eyes suddenly became hard again. ‘But one thing I know: just like Dalgliesh was the man my brother most admired when he was young, he’s now the man my brother hates more than any other in the world. If Rick decides it’s time to have it out with Dalgliesh here and now, we are in deep, deep trouble.’

*~*~**~*~*

We sat there for a few minutes in silence. Finally, I elbowed her gently in the ribs. ‘Hey - isn’t it time for breakfast? I’m hungry.’

Immediately, she brightened. ‘Of course! And…oh my!’ She covered her mouth with a hand, hiding her sudden grin. ‘I only just realised! I get to parade you in front of the whole household in trousers and a tailcoat, and only I will know that there’s a girl under there! Please let me take you to breakfast as a man! Please!’

‘Certainly.’ Rising, I gave a mock bow. ‘I wouldn’t be a proper gentleman if I didn’t offer to escort a young lady to the table, now, would I?’ And I offered her my arm.

She nearly keeled over from laughing.

‘You wound my manly pride,’ I chastised.

Gasping for breath, she managed to scramble to her feet, and grabbed me by the arm. ‘Come on! Come on! Oh God, this is going to be brilliant!’

When we stepped outside, Karim was still standing guard next to the door, his hand on the pommel of his sabre. I glanced at the girl beside me, then raised an eyebrow at him. ‘I shall defend this door with my last breath? No one will cross this threshold as long as I have life in my body?’

The bodyguard tried his best to hide behind his beard. Giggling, the two of us escaped down the corridor. Only when we approached the breakfast parlour did I take care to assume a more gentlemanly demeanour and once again offered Adaira my arm.

‘Why, thank you, Sir.’ She smiled and accepted with a gracious curtsey.

A footman awaited us in front of the breakfast room, bowing deeply as we approached.

‘Lady Adaira, Mr Linton - the Marchioness desired me to let you know that the company will be taking breakfast in the east-wing winter garden today. She thought the scenery might, ehem…lighten the mood of her guests.’

With Lord Dalgliesh still among the guests? Adaira and I exchanged doubtful looks.

‘Come on.’ Gripping my arm more tightly, Adaira pulled me off in the direction of the east wing. ‘We’d better go.’

It didn’t take us long to reach the winter garden, and we didn’t waste a minute before stepping inside. The sight that met our eyes would have been comical - if it hadn’t been so deadly serious.

In the centre of the garden, amidst beautiful flowers beyond which lay the sparkling glory of the wintery landscape, a table had been erected and ornate chairs placed all around it. No one had taken their seat yet. They were standing around admiring the beautiful scenery. Or at least most of them were.

The more intelligent people present had caught on to what was happening in their midst and had retreated to the corners of the garden, leaving a space in the middle for the two contestants. On the left, Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh, steel-blue eyes as hard as a bank-vault door, his golden hair glinting like an angel’s halo in the morning sunlight. On the right, Mr Rikkard Ambrose, his eyes dark as the fathomless depths of the sea, and just as warm and inviting. Every single line of his perfect face was etched in stone.

The air between the two men was like the Antarctic before a thunderstorm. The air crackled. The The hairs on the back of my neck stood up just from watching.

‘Ah, Lady Adaira. There you are.’ A plump young lady stepped towards us, a bright smile on her face, completely unaware of what was happening. I hardly spared her a glance. ‘We’ve all been waiting for you. Won’t you introduce your companion to me?’

Adaira, unlike me, managed to scrounge up enough presence of mind for a reply. ‘Certainly. Mr Victor Linton, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to Miss Violet Bardley?’

‘If you really think it’s a pleasure,’ I replied absent-mindedly, my whole attention still focused on the pair of men staring each other down in the centre of the room. Adaira coughed. The plump girl beamed as if I had given her a huge compliment.

‘Um…Mr Linton is my brother’s private secretary, Miss Bardley.’

‘Really? That must be such an interesting occupation.’ Miss Bardley smiled even more brightly. It seemed to be her aim in life to outshine the sun. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr Linton.’

‘Charmed,’ I murmured to a potted plant about half a yard to the left of Miss Bardley’s ear. People had started milling about, obscuring my view of Mr Ambrose and Lord Dalgliesh. Had they drawn weapons yet? God, if that bastard Dalgliesh harmed him…!

‘I’m really glad I accepted Lady Samantha’s invitation to come here to celebrate Christmas. It’s so wonderful up here in the north.’ That was Miss Bardley again. She gave a sigh, no doubt meant to encourage my agreement. ‘So serene and peaceful.’

Craning my neck, I managed to peek through the crowd - just in time to see Mr Ambrose clench one hand around the back of a chair, as if tempted to throw it. ‘Um…well, yes. Serene. Peaceful. Absolutely.’