Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

My fork fell on the plate with a clatter.

What. Did. He. Just. Say?

First or Foremost

I tried everything to find out who it was. Everything. Questioning. Cajoling. Blackmail. Pleading. Death threats. Beard-removal threats. Nothing worked. Not even the latter on Karim. Nobody seemed to know who this mysterious lady was who had conquered Mr Ambrose’s affections in one swoop, or if they knew, they weren’t telling me.

The little witch certainly knew how to be sneaky! How could she do this, whoever she was, without me hearing a single word about it? Not a whisper even! I had no suspects. None of the hyenas had behaved out of the ordinary. In vain did I look for a smug smile or self-satisfied strut. Whoever she was, she knew how to keep a secret.

Well, she would have to, Lilly, wouldn’t she? After all, she managed to steal the heart of the man you love right under your nose.

I just couldn’t understand! How could he? Only this morning he had proposed marriage to me, for heaven’s sake! And now he was already after somebody else? Weren’t rejected romantic heroes supposed to brood and stew and pine for their one true love? But he probably considered that a waste of time. The Rikkard Ambrose new efficient romance method: one proposal per day until an accepting target is found. Ha!

‘Worthless, faithless, fickle son of a bloody bachelor!’ I growled, punctuating each word with a gunshot - not at him, mind you, but unfortunately only at the shooting targets in the range behind the house. Thick snow covered the targets and, with the sun setting, there was hardly enough light left to shoot properly, but right now I didn’t care. I just needed something to shoot at. Whether I actually hit the intended target was secondary.

‘Blasted, block-headed bastard! Feeble-headed flapdoodle! How could he? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! He’s supposed to love me!’

Which might have been a little easier if you’d accepted his offer of marriage, don’t you think?

‘Shut up!’

Sometimes, an inner voice of reason was really, really annoying. Especially when she had a point. I could have accepted his offer of marriage, and I could have been happy. But…could I have been me?

I didn’t think so.

‘Damn him! He’s supposed to understand this! He’s supposed to love me!’

Bam! Bam!

Two shots went off, and two holes appeared in the snow-covered target to the left of the one I’d been aiming at.

Damn him! Now he was even affecting my aim. Was there no part of me he would leave untouched?

A bit redundant, that question, Lilly, don’t you think? If there were any part of you untouched by him, would you be standing out here in the snow while everyone’s inside preparing for the big dance? Would you be shooting at targets you can’t even properly see? And would that little bit of moisture that you’re not prepared to call a tear be running down your cheek?

Swiftly, I reached up, wiping the moisture from my face. Then, as if drawn by seductive magic, I turned my head to glance back at the house. Lights were starting to appear in all the windows. Music began playing. I wanted to stay out here in the cold, stay alone and safe, away from Mr Rikkard Ambrose - but I couldn’t. I couldn’t resist his pull, and I couldn’t resist seeing the girl he had chosen instead of me.

Damn my curiosity! And double-damn my love!

Firing a last shot, I whirled away from the targets and started towards the house. Within minutes, I had changed into my new ball gown - what a waste of money! - and collected my dance card. The gloves I had worn against the cold outside I discarded. The revolver I kept. Just in case I’d come face-to-face with her. Plus, I was not so overtaken by mindless jealousy as to forget that Lord Dalgliesh might still have spies among the staff. Safe was better than sorry.

I glanced at myself in the mirror just once. It was bittersweet. I’d chosen the gown with hope in my heart. Now that there was only despair there, the sight hurt. But I had never been the sort to shy away from pain. Particularly not the kind for which I had only myself to blame. Straightening my spine, I stepped out of my room and started down the corridor. The sweet, discordant sound of musicians tuning their instruments drifted up the hallway towards me, and I let it lead me to my destination.

Lady Samantha was waiting at the entrance to the ballroom, officially greeting a few lady friends. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes widened slightly. I knew why, but I resisted the temptation to hug myself and hide as much of my dress from the world as I could. I would not be ashamed of myself or my choices.

‘Hello, dear.’ Lady Samantha’s voice was softer even than usual. She reached out and grasped my hand. ‘I’m so glad you came. You look…beautiful.’

Her eyes slid up

and down, taking me and my dress in once again - but she said nothing more. In that moment, I loved the little old lady.

‘Thank you.’ If only your opinion were the one that really mattered. I gave her a sad smile. ‘But not beautiful enough, I think.’

‘Whatever do you mean, my dear?’

‘Didn’t you hear?’ One corner of my mouth curled up in a sad little smile. ‘He picked someone else for the first dance.’

The marchioness gave me an odd look. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say she was amused. But that couldn’t be, surely.