Silence No More

36. Never Let Go

Most of the rest of the day my friends spent with their various self-appointed tasks. I tried to help as much as I could, but when I showed up in the manor's library next to the ancestral tomes with a happily drooling baby in my arms, the librarian nearly chucked me out of the window. I did the wise thing and beat a hasty retreat.

Thus, I ended up wandering through the manor's corridors. I was just racking my brain wondering what to do, when Berty informed me of his opinion by giving off an ear-piercing cry and filling the air with a fragrant aroma.

"Let me guess...you want me to change your diapers?"

"Waah waah!"

"Wordless understanding between mother and child is such a beautiful thing."

"Waah!"

My lips twitched and, with a last wave at the suspicious librarian peeking around the corner, I set off back towards the room I shared with Mr Ambrose. Once I had reached the changing table, I gently laid Berty down, reached for his diaper and...well, I don't really feel like describing in detail what I did next. Narration should only ever go so far.

During the next two days, I flitted around the manor, doing my best to support my friends' investigations in my own way. I had another chat with Mr Fernsby in the hope that he might be able to reveal any chinks in the marquess's armour—but the old man was both infuriatingly loyal and infuriatingly nice. It was completely impossible to squeeze any blackmail material out of him that wasn't baby pictures.

My other efforts didn't yield any results either. The old marquess's office seemed to be too well guarded for me to sneak in and investigate. The marchioness seemed happy to render aid when I asked for help, but, unfortunately, she apparently thought the best way to help was to go find Mr Linton and give him tips on being the ideal suitor and husband.

In the end, I decided to temporarily halt my efforts and trust in my friends. They were investigating this matter to the best of their ability. If I couldn't rely on them, who could I rely on? Surely, any moment now, they would come up with a solution.

Any moment now.

Any. Moment. Now.

That was what I kept repeating to myself. Only...on the evening of the third day, just before the deadline the marquess had given my husband, it didn't sound quite so convincing anymore. I had almost made up my mind to go check on my friends to see if they had discovered something yet when—

"Waah waaaaaaaaaah!"

Well...dang. So much for that.

This motherhood thing was going to be a full-time job, wasn't it?

Look on the bright side, Lilly, my inner voice suggested in a chipper tone. If Mr Ambrose sells off his business, you most likely won't have any other job left, so you'll have plenty of time to be a full-time diaper-changer. Yay!

Was it legal to murder one's own subconscious?

Legal, probably. Healthy, less so.

"Waaah, waaaaaaaah!"

Well, if things went on like this, I might do it anyway. At least then I would have only one enervating voice to deal with.

I was just about to check on Berty to see if he needed something or was merely practising his singing voice when the door to the room opened and Mr Ambrose stepped inside.

My feet froze in mid-step.

The expression on his face...

...is still non-existent. Dammit! Is it too much to ask for this god-damn granite-head to show a hint of emotion on his face in front of his own wife when his world is falling apart?