Silence Breaking (Storm and Silence 4)

The drive wasn’t long and, luckily, our reception to the city of Newcastle was distinctly cooler and less geological than last time. We drove straight through the city towards the waterfront, but only when the masts and sails of anchoring ships came into view did I understand what was about to happen.

I swallowed.

‘Oh dear. This will be difficult to explain to my friends and my little sister.’

‘What will?’

‘Disappearing on another mysterious journey. I wrote to them, telling them I’d be coming back. I thought we were returning to London, you know.’

‘You are.’

‘I am? But-’ And then it hit me. I began to understand what he really intended to do. What he had been intending to do ever since he met that messenger on the road. Wherever he was going, Dalgliesh would be there, too. It would be dangerous. And no matter how ruthless or cold-hearted Mr Rikkard Ambrose might be, he would never put someone he loved into danger.

‘No!’ I almost jumped out of my seat. ‘No, you can’t be serious!’

He cocked his head. ‘There you go again, assuming I am capable of levity. How long will it take to cure you of this curious misconception?’

‘You’re not leaving me behind!’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘You are a bastard son of a bachelor!’

‘Yes, I am. Albeit in the metaphorical sense only.’

‘I love you!’

‘Thank you.’

‘That was meant to convince you that you can’t leave me behind!’

‘Oh. Well, in that case, it did not work.’

Reaching out, I grabbed his arm and held on so tight it must have hurt - but he didn’t complain. He didn’t even try to pull away. Our eyes met. ‘Where are you going?’

Silence.

‘Mr Ambrose, where are you going?’

More silence.

Loosening my grip, I slid my hand down his arm until my fingers gently brushed against his.

‘Where?’

He glanced down at our joined fingers - then looked up to meet my gaze again.

‘It’s better if you don’t know, Miss Linton.’

‘No it isn’t!’

‘Will you ever stop arguing with me?’

My fingers tightened around his. ‘Never.’

Funny. Why did that sounded like more than a promise to me? Almost like a…vow.

The coach rolled to a halt. Taking a deep breath, Mr Ambrose rose to his feet. ‘Well, the continuation of our argument will have to wait.’ And, slipping out of my grasp, he stepped out of the coach. I jumped after him, parasol ready to strike. I would force him to listen! I would beat it into his thick head that he couldn’t just leave me behind like some dainty porcelain do