‘You have a country house?’
‘Why so surprised, Miss Linton?’
‘Because maintaining those things is more expensive than paying King Midas’ annual tax bill!’
‘Oh, I have found a way to make things a little more profitable.’
I would have pounced on that and demanded more information if not, at that very moment, a shout had sounded from the manor steps.
‘Rick! Miss Linton!’
That voice! Was that…
My eyes flicked to the direction the shout had come from.
Yes!
A grin spreading over my face, I jumped down from the horse and, not paying any heed to Mr Ambrose’s protests, raced down the hill towards the small figure running up towards me caring not in the least if her dress got wet or muddy. A moment later, I slammed into Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, daughter of the The Most Honourable The Marquess Ambrose, and hugged her so tightly I probably risked squeezing the breath out of her. Oh, how I had missed this girl!
‘Miss Linton! Oh God, Miss Linton I’m so glad you’re safe!’
And she, apparently, had missed me.
‘There, there,’ I muttered, wiping her tears away. ‘Don’t do that at this temperature! You’ll turn into an ice sculpture.’
She hiccupped, giggled, and pulled out a handkerchief to blow her nose.
To heck with my plans to become friends with this girl! We already were. End of story.
Or maybe the beginning of one.
The thought made me smile.
Behind us, someone cleared his throat.
‘When the two of you have finished this superfluous display of exuberance,’ the arctic tones of Rikkard Ambrose cut through our girl moment, ‘I shall be taking Miss Linton to the house. She needs rest and a change of clothes.’
‘A change of - oh.’ Adaira seemed only just then to notice the ill-fitting trousers and coat I had somehow managed to wrestle onto my body. ‘Oh. Yes, I see what you mean. Get her inside without mother seeing, will you? I’d like her to survive into the next year, and the sight might be too much for her heart.’
‘I shall do my best. Come, Miss Linton.’
Taking me by the arm with surprising gentleness, Mr Ambrose was just about to start leading me off towards the house - but then Adaira seemed to remember something.
‘Wait!’
‘What?’ Mr Ambrose turned back to her - and she slapped him, hard, on the arm.
‘Ow! What the-’
‘That’s for taking so long! You had me so worried!’
His left little finger twitched. ‘Your concern is duly noted. Now, may I depart, or do you wish to visit further punishment upon me?’
‘Not just now. But I’ll come with you in case I change my mind.’
‘Indeed.’
Without further comment, Mr Ambrose turned and marched me off towards the back of the house. Karim and his men followed as inconspicuously as a giant bearded bodyguard with turban, sabre and an escort of forty mounted man can. Not very.