Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

‘Yes. I’m going to have a little chat with this Mr Linton.’

‘You really think he’d help you? Why would he?’

She smiled. ‘The better question is: how could he say no? Have you met any man so far who’s been able to resist me?’ Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her adjusting her dress, pulling her neckline a little bit farther down. ‘Watch and learn, ladies.’

Oh, I’ll be watching this. I’ll most definitely be watching. This should be interesting.

Tasty Sheep’s Feet

I was standing at the window overlooking the courtyard. A lady’s footsteps approached, yet I pretended not to pay attention. Then a gentle feminine cough sounded from behind me. I struggled valiantly to morph my face into a serene, disinterested expression and turned around. Lady Caroline was beaming at me in a way that would probably have melted most men like butter in the sun. But for some reason it did not work quite so well on Mr Victor Linton. Strange. Can you imagine why?

She took a sensuous step closer, taking care to waggle her hips. I nearly burst out laughing.

‘Mr Linton?’

‘Yes, Lady Caroline?’

‘I was just wondering…I heard…’

She paused and gave a shy giggle that was probably supposed to demonstrate how demure and innocent she was. Personally, I was tempted to ask if she had the laughing sickness, and how long it would be before she entered the third, terminal, stage - but on the whole, that would probably not have been very gentlemanly.

‘You were wondering?’ I prompted.

‘A few of my friends and I were discussing London society and its great men. And one of them said something that I…no, I can’t really believe it. It sounds too improbable.’

‘What?’

‘She said that you…that you are the private secretary of the Rikkard Ambrose?’

You could have filled a cathedral with the reverent awe in her voice.

‘True.’

‘What? You are? You really, really are?’ She made big eyes and batted her eyelashes at me. I was tempted to bat her over the head with a bat in return, but I didn’t have one handy. Darn! Where’s a heavy wooden club when you need one?

‘Oh, Mr Linton! Working for such an important man, that must be so terribly exciting!’

You have no idea.

‘Oh, not so very exciting.’ I waved a dismissive hand. ‘Mostly it’s boring paperwork.’

She batted her eyelashes again and swayed a few steps closer, offering me a good view of her cleavage. I had seen far more interesting sights in my life. ‘Boring paperwork? Now, Mr Linton…I’m sure that’s not true.’

No, it isn’t. Would you like to know about the bandit hunts, secret infiltrations, deadly fights and the half-naked fun times in the jungle?

However, being a well-mannered pretend gentleman, I didn’t say that aloud. I really was getting the hang of this manners thing.

‘Of course, there are interesting moments,’ I admitted instead, sighing with nostalgia.

‘Such as?’ she enquired, doing some more eyelash-batting.

‘Well, there was the day we were checking the accounts and discovered a miscalculation of three shillings seven pence for the month of June. Mr Ambrose was so terribly excited about the additional revenue. It was one of the best days of the year.’

She blinked at me. I could almost see the question flicker in her mind: Is this fellow pulling my delectably formed leg?

It took her only a moment to decide. Of course I couldn’t be pulling her leg. I was a man - nothing but helpless putty in her seductive hands. Just in case, though, she smiled at me broadly and once again pulled down her neckline.

If she does that again, things might get embarrassing for all concerned…