I give everyone three guesses which part of this conversation was Mr Ambrose and which his mother. Smirking at the suffering non-expression on my employer’s face, I slowly crept closer in the shadow of the plants. He thought this was bad? He had no idea. Things were going to get a whole lot more interesting.
‘And the Garringtons are coming, too,’ Lady Samantha started a last attempt. ‘They have such a lovely young daughter, and-’
‘Hello there.’ Stepping out from behind the bushes, I did my best imitation of a curtsey. ‘Good morning everyone.’
‘Mr Linton.’ Mr Ambrose started to turn around. ‘Where have you b-’
The remainder of the sentence got lost in a sort of gurgling noise. Lady Samantha and Lady Adaira turned, too, and when they caught sight of me their eyes went wide.
‘May I?’ Not waiting for a response, I pulled out a chair and settled myself down next to Mr Ambrose. He made another indistinct noise. ‘What a lovely winter garden you have here. It’s so nice to meet you all - well, except for Mr Ambrose, of course. The two of us are already quite well acquainted.’
‘You are?’ Lady Samantha’s eyes lit up at the prospect of her son actually knowing a female that wasn’t related to him, dead, or cleaning his room wearing a chambermaid’s uniform. Reaching over, she gave Mr Ambrose’s hand a decisive squeeze. ‘Then why don’t you introduce us to this lovely young lady, dear? Although-’ her eyes wandered over my face, and warmth lit h
er eyes. ‘-to judge by her familiar features, I can already guess who she might be.’
I could nearly hear the sound of Mr Ambrose’s teeth grinding.
‘This,’ he somehow managed to get out, ‘Is Miss Lillian Linton, Mr Linton’s-’
‘ - sister,’ I finished and piled mushrooms on top of my toast. ‘Twin sister, actually.’
‘I thought as much!’ Both women’s eyes were on me, wonderingly. ‘The two of you really have the most amazing resemblance.’
‘Yes, I’ve been told so.’
‘How did you get here so quickly? Your brother only asked me to invite you yesterday.’
‘He did, did he?’ Mr Ambrose’s cold gaze speared me. I ignored it and took a bite of toast. ‘I wonder why Mr Linton neglected to mention this to me.’
I smiled at him. ‘How would I know? You’d better ask him.’
‘Oh, rest assured, I’ll do that.’
‘Miss Linton?’ The marchioness’s eyes were gleaming with curiosity. They were flicking between Mr Ambrose and me, betraying intrigue at our little exchange. ‘Well? How did you get here so quickly?’
I winked. ‘I have my ways. Besides…I don’t approve of tardiness.’
She clapped her hands. ‘Neither does my son! How wonderful! The two of you already have things in common.’
Under the table, Mr Ambrose gave me a kick, and I kicked back, promptly. Ah, the sweet exchanges of romance…
‘Why, pray,’ he demanded of his mother, ‘is that wonderful?’
‘Oh, well, you know.’ The marchioness cleared her throat. ‘It’s nice to have a friendly and happy atmosphere at breakfast. That’s all.’
‘Of course.’
She cleared her throat again and, quickly evading her son’s gaze, extended her hand across the table for me to shake. ‘Well, anyway, welcome to Battlewood Hall, Miss Linton. I’m sorry my husband is not down here to greet you but he is…indisposed. I hope we can make your stay an enjoyable one.’
‘Oh, I’m sure of it,’ I said, smiling at her and giving Mr Ambrose another kick under the table, just for the fun of it.
Adaira, who had been watching the whole discussion with dark, thoughtful eyes, now too extended her hand.
‘Welcome, Miss Linton. If you’re anything like your brother, I already know I’m going to like you.’
‘Oh, trust me, the two of us are very much alike.’
She frowned, glancing around. ‘Where is your brother, by the way?’