In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

‘No buts, Miss Linton! Go and inform Mrs Fotheringay of our imminent departure. Find out when the next suitable transport leaves this place.’

Out of reflex, I opened my mouth to protest again. But on this subject, I didn’t really need much convincing. Springing to my feet, I gave a mock salute.

‘Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!’

Before he could devour me alive or freeze me to a block of ice with his cold stare, I was out the door and down the corridor. I found Mrs Fotheringay in the living room, busy embroidering pretty birds on white linen.

‘Mrs Fotheringay?’

‘Ah, there you are, dear! Did you find the gentleman? Was he the one you

were looking for?’

‘Yes.’ I felt relief flood through me as I said the word aloud. He really was alive, and safe. ‘Yes, he was. He is.’

A smile spread over the old lady’s face. ‘That’s wonderful, dear! I’m so happy for you.’

‘Mrs Fotheringay, I’m terribly grateful for everything you’ve done for my, um… cousin. You probably saved his life. Now that we’ve found each other again, he shouldn’t impose on your hospitality any longer. Do you know if a coach comes through this village?’

Mrs Fotheringay’s hand slipped, and she almost stitched the beak of her pretty little embroidered bird shut. Staring up at me in surprise, she put the needlework aside.

‘You mean you want to leave? But is he well enough?’

‘Oh, yes, I think so. And a bit of exercise would do him a world of good, believe me.’

Besides, I won’t rest easy until he’s miles away from your charming beast of a daughter.

‘Well, if you really think so, my dear, there’s a coach leaving in two hours. It leaves every day at this time for Dover. And I’m sure from Dover you can catch a carriage to… where is it your cousin lives?’

‘In London.’

‘Ah, the metropolis.’ Mrs Fotheringay gave a nostalgic sigh. ‘I haven’t been in London since I was a little girl. Does he have a house there?’

An image flashed through my mind of the monumental complex of stone and concrete with its great central hall, countless offices, and impressive view of the city of London that was called ‘Empire House’ - the headquarters of Mr Ambrose’s business empire.

‘In a manner of speaking.’

‘A nice place?’

‘Um… you could say that, yes.’

She might have asked more questions, but at that moment, the door opened and her daughter entered the room. Mrs Fotheringay turned to her with a bright smile on her face.

‘Violet, my dear! Our guest is indeed the one the young lady has been looking for! They’re happily reunited, and he feels well enough to return home to London! Isn’t that wonderful news?’

Violet muttered something affirmative, but to judge by the way she was staring daggers at me, I didn’t think ‘wonderful news’ were the words she would have chosen. I allowed myself a little self-satisfied smile at her, then turned and headed back to Mr Ambrose.

When I told him that we had to wait two hours for the coach… Well, let’s just say he was not best pleased.

‘Read an improving book for a change,’ I advised.

‘What would you suggest?’ he demanded, glaring at the narrow shelf on the wall. ‘Mrs McPherson’s Book of Advice for Housewives? Dangerous Creatures of the Cold Sea? Cartwright’s Collected Nursery Rhymes?’

‘Why not?’ Shrugging, and giving him a meaningful smile, I picked Dangerous Creatures of the Cold Sea off the shelf. ‘You never know where you might pick up a useful tip or two.’

I cuddled into a chair near the window and opened the volume in question. He remained lying on the bed, stiff as a board. Soon, we settled into a silence that was, to my intense surprise, quite companionable. Still, whenever I glanced up from descriptions of sea lions or whales, Mr Ambrose seemed tenser than the last time. Something was clearly on his mind - something besides wasted time.

The minutes passed by. I left behind whales and went on to sharks. More time passed, and nothing whatsoever happened. When the outburst finally came, it was out of the blue.