Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

‘Just one thing…’

‘Yes?’

‘If you could explain to me why exactly you don’t want to marry him, that might help me understand what you’ve been going on about for the last five minutes.’

I stomped on the ground, sending a cascade of glittering crystals into the air. ‘Don’t you see?’

‘Err…no, not really. He loves you. You love him, hard as that may be to understand. So, why not make it official?’

‘Because!’ My foot slammed into the ground again. This time the snow flew so high it filled my shoe. Right now, I didn’t care. ‘Because it’s marriage we’re talking about! Marriage! Have you had both eyes and ears open? Have you heard the whispers, read the papers? Don’t you know what some husbands do to their wives?’

‘Rick would never-’

‘-hurt me, I know. But that’s not the point, Adaira.’ Taking a step towards her, I took her hands and looked straight into her eyes. ‘Do you know why I took the job as your brother’s secretary? Do you know why I’ve been running after him for over a year now, through Egypt and Brazil and God knows where else?’

‘I’ve had my suspicions, but I don’t really know, no.’

‘I did it because I want to be free! I want to be my own woman, go where I want, do what I want, be who I want to be. I don’t want to be an appendage to someone else!’

‘But you won’t be! Rick-’

‘-is a man. A powerful man, who is used to being in charge. And marriage is a contract. Do you know what it is I’d be signing up for?’ Pulling a small, leather-bound book out of my pocket, I waved it in the air. ‘I wasn’t absolutely sure myself. I didn’t want to listen to rumours and newspaper gossip columns. So I borrowed this from your mother’s library. The Book of Common Prayer. It has the standard wedding ceremony in there, as prescribed by the Church of England.’

With trembling fingers, I opened the book at the page I had marked earlier. ‘Do you really think that when the vicar steps in front of me and asks me Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him? I will be able to answer with a “Yes”? Do you really think that when the vicar stands there and tells me, Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the Church:

and he is the Saviour of the body. Therefore as the Church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything,[16] I will be able to just stand there and meekly swallow it?’

Panting, I lowered the book. Adaira was looking at me with big eyes, dumbstruck.

‘If you think that,’ I whispered. ‘You don’t know me at all.’

She hesitated a moment - then nodded. ‘You’re right.’

My eyebrows shot up. ‘I am?’

‘Yes. Down with matrimony!’ She slammed her fist into her palm, then lowered her voice and added: ‘But for heaven’s sake, don’t let mother know I said that!’

A smiled tugged at the corners of my mouth. ‘I won’t.’

‘And I hope you won’t be offended if one day I choose to marry anyway?’

‘Not in the least.’

‘Because, you know…there are quite a lot of men out there who probably wouldn’t stand on the letter of the contract.’

‘True.’ I gave her a weak smile. ‘But Mr Rikkard Ambrose is not one of them.’

She nodded solemnly. She knew her brother more than well enough to know that a contract with him was not to be undertaken lightly.

‘And do you know what’s most important?’ I asked her, my voice totally serious. “He knew all this, Adaira. He knew how I felt about marriage, he knew that I would die before giving up my independence. And still - one day after telling me he loved me, he asked me to become his wife. No, he didn’t even ask - he ordered! Can you understand now why I would be a teensy-weensy bit annoyed with your dear brother?’

Adaira considered for a moment - then nodded. Bending down, she lifted up a compact ball of snow and slammed it on top of the figure we had been moulding. It was a tall figure, made of snow pounded so long it was almost as hard as ice. An old black top hat sat upon its head. For eyes, it had two sea-coloured pebbles, and the mouth was a thin line that looked as if it almost never opened.

‘I think we did a really good job.’ Cocking her head, Adaira regarded our masterpiece. ‘He looks just like the original.’

‘He has a carrot for a nose,’ I pointed out.

‘Like I said - just like the original.’