Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

At least until Lady Samantha appeared beside me with Lady Adaira.

‘Mr Linton, may I entrust her to you?’ she gazed up at me with big, hopeful eyes. ‘I have those three men to contend with and if I have to keep an eye on my little girl…I simply can’t. Please.’

I stared at her. ‘B-but…’

‘Please?’

Crap! Why did she have to have such big, blue grandmotherly eyes? How was I supposed to be able to say no?

‘Very well.’

‘Oh, thank you! Thank you, Mr Linton. You are a true gentleman.’

And she dashed off, leaving behind a stunned me and an Adaira convulsing with giggles.

‘It’s not funny!’ I snapped.

‘Oh yes it is, Mr Linton!’

‘What am I supposed to do now?’ Panicked I glanced around. All of the other men - crap, had I just thought ‘other men’? - were standing beside their chairs like stuffed penguins. ‘I have no idea how a gentleman behaves towards a lady at the breakfast table!’

‘I’m sure you’ll do fine,’ Adaira said, watching Mr Ambrose who grabbed his dinner partner, dumped the lady onto a chair and shoved it forward before taking his own seat. ‘As long as you do the exact opposite of my dear brother.’

Grimacing, I pulled out a chair for her.

‘Why, thank you, Sir.’ Batting her eyelashes up at me, she sank onto her seat. ‘My mother was right. You are a true gentleman.’

‘Shut up! This is not funny!’

‘On the contrary. Three men who would like to kill each other but are forced to be civil because of table manners? A lady in trousers as my dinner partner? This is first-class comedy. It’s a wonder I’m not rolling around on the floor with laughter.’

I had to admit, she had a point. The situation was funny - in the same way that an assassin being pecked to death by a murder of crows was funny. Lady Adaira seemed to have an admirable talent for looking at the bright side of life.

Her poor mother, though…

‘Toast, Sir? Mushrooms? Kipper?’

Torn from my thoughts I looked up to see a footman standing beside me, balancing a huge platter with food on one hand and wielding a scary-looking serving fork with the other. I prayed Mr Ambrose wouldn’t get his hands on that while his father and Lord Dalgliesh still were in the room. Otherwise, things at the breakfast table might get rough.

I opened my mouth - and underneath the table felt the pressure of a foot against mine. Ah yes. Manners.

‘Ladies first.’ I gave Adaira a strained smile.

‘Thank you, Mr Linton.’ The little minx beamed at me. ‘It’s so heartwarming to s

ee that there are still men with manners out there in these uncouth, modern days.’

She really was enjoying this a little too much.

‘A selection of everything for me, please, Oscar.’

‘Certainly, Your Ladyship. And the gentleman?’

It took a gentle kick from Adaira to make me realise he was talking to me.

‘I, err…I’d just like a few mushrooms on toast, please. I’m not feeling very well. I, um…didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.’

‘Oh, really?’ Adaira’s eyes lit up with ravenous curiosity. ‘Why was that? Do tell. Were you very…busy?’