Torn in the Storm - Storm and Silence Fanfiction

(1) - I'd rather hide in a hole

Blast!

Double blast!

A million - a bazillion blast!

Why, the Gods do hate me? I thought this whole business would of being terminated after Sir Phillips rushed off to curt another lady. Blah. Guess more solid chocolate for me then.

Lady Metcalf, and her circle of friends, has invited my family of miserable beings to another miserable ball.

How lovely.

'Lillian!' My lovable aunt's voice pierced through the house and perhaps my ear drums. 'Where have you been?' She demanded, 'Well, no matter. You and I are going to have a serious talk.'

'Ummm, about what exactly?'

'About your daily walks in the invisible park! I-'

'Err, parks can't be invisible.'

'Silence, a proper lady does not interrupt!'

I quickly muttered a combination of Spanish and Portuguese swear words under my breath. I must admit, I have a talent at learning languages.

'What was that, young lady?'

'Nothing! You were saying?' If she'd knew what I just said - oh, the look on her face would be priceless. Not that I would try and explain it to her any time soon.

'As I was saying, Lady Metcalf is hosting a ball this Friday evening. I do not want you wondering off-'

What? Friday?

'Umm, I'm busy on Friday-' I barely started when my aunt - being the aunt she was - cut me off straight away with a frightening glare.

'Hmp! No excuses.' She said, her eyes glittering dangerously,  'Going to a ball is much better than your walks in the park.'

Oh well, the park excuse is getting real pathetic now. Giving my warmest smile, I pushed away that thought.

'Yes' My aunt continued, satisfied with herself, 'I'll be expecting you here by 5pm sharp.'

'Ye- what?'

Her eyes narrowed to slits, '5pm sharp! No discussions! If I don't see you dressed in your finest ball gown by then, I'll personally hound the streets until I catch you.'

With that, she rushed off, leaving me to scowl at her retreating figure.

5pm? Errr, I sent a continuous stream of curse words towards Lady Metcalf. Curse her, curse the ball.

At this point, in the midst of anger, I had completely missed the deadly sparkle glittering in my aunt's eyes. How I regretted not realizing her dangerous intention.

~-~-~-~-~-~

I stepped out into the cold morning air of London. In 15 rather freezing minutes, the grand empire house loomed before me. Office, and partial home to the most calculating, cold, stone-faced, stingy businessman of the entire world.

Who would of imagined what a man made out of cold, hard rocks can have the sweetest, softest set of lips. Oh. I squashed down the thought like a disgusting mutated cockroach. 

Marching past Sallow-face, I advanced upon the stairs.

5pm, 5pm? 3 hours before my usual departure time. Oh, the look on his face....or rather the lack of look, won't be promising. Letting out a prolonged sign, I reached the final flight of stairs. Giving Mr Stone a curt nod, and a depressed 'Goodmorning' I turned to my office.