Silence Breaking

20. Wrap the Captain

Silence.

It was utter. Complete. Unbreakable. And yet...it was louder than any silence I had ever heard before in my life. I had a sudden urge to clamp my hands over my ears to protect them from the sudden lack of noise. The temperature in the room dropped by a hundred degrees. Not wishing to be frozen into an ice sculpture, I said nothing and didn't move. Especially not in the direction of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. In fact, I avoided looking at him altogether. After all, there was no particular reason why I should be looking at him, right? He hadn't walked in on anything bad. It was all perfectly innocent, and I was blameless, and if I just kept my mouth shut and avoided looking into his icy eyes I might, possibly, survive this.

Captain Carter had no such compunctions.

'Excuse me, Sir!' Rising to his feet, he sent Mr Ambrose a glare that would have made most men retreat with their tail between their legs. 'Didn't your mother teach you how to knock?'

Most men. Not this one.

Mr Ambrose regarded Captain Carter as if he were something he had found stuck to the sole of his ten-year-old mint-condition shoes.

'She did – just like she taught me that a gentleman has no business being alone in a lady's room. Leave.'

'Miss Linton and I–'

'–can speak later. Miss Linton is recovering from injuries. Leave. Now.'

Captain Carter opened his mouth to protest again – and closed it. What could he do? This house belonged to Mr Ambrose. In fact, the captain would probably have to walk for a good, long while to reach a portion of the city that didn't belong to Mr Ambrose. His gaze bored into my employer, then slowly moved from Mr Ambrose to me, and back to Mr Ambrose. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

'Very well.' Rising to his feet, he marched to the door. He very nearly shoved Mr Ambrose as he strode past. Nearly, but not quite. Just as he reached the door, he turned and looked back straight at me. 'I shall return. Very, very soon.'

And he was gone.

Silence reigned.

Earth-shattering, ice-cold, terror-inducing silence.

Silence that promised death and destruction.

'Well, well.' Turning towards Mr Ambrose, I gifted him with one of my best fake smiles. 'Nice weather today, isn't it?'

'Which part? The snow storm or the thick fog?'

'Well...'

Taking a step into the room, Mr Ambrose let the door slide shut behind him. Never in the history of carpentry had anyone been able to make the soft click of a door sound so terrifyingly threatening.

'What,' my dear employer enquired in a tone that tickled my spine with icy fingers, 'was he doing here?'

I waved dismissively, then stopped when the motion hurt like hell. 'Oh, just the usual. Stopping by, asking how I'm doing...'

...proposing marriage...

For some reason I didn't mention that last point to Mr Ambrose, though.

He gave me a long, hard look. One of those looks that could make accountants quake in their boots and confess embezzlement on the spot. I was preparing for an inquisition including thumbscrews and Chinese water torture – after all, why not? I was prone and helpless. But it didn't come. Instead, he gave a curt nod.

'I see.'

I blinked. 'You... you do?'

'Oh yes, Mr Linton.' His cold, sea-coloured gaze bored into me, making me shiver. 'I see everything.'