Silence Breaking

40. A Flapdoodle in the Snow

'Aah...' Sighing, I straightened and gazed contentedly at my handiwork. 'You were right, Adaira. This is a marvellous way to let off steam. Let me guess – when we're finished, this will depict...'

'Yes, it will. Let's just hope he doesn't find out.'

'We're at the back of the house, behind three rows of hedges. He won't even know where we are. Plus even if he found out, he can go eat my parasol!'

'A very commendable sentiment.' She grinned at me. 'I have often wanted to make him eat a parasol – or a cow, or a bucket full of rusted nails. However, last time I saw you and my brother together, I had the impression that your feelings towards him were, how shall I put it, of a more tender nature?'

I ground my teeth. 'Tender my foot! He...he...!'

'What did he do?'

My clenched fist slammed into the half-finished snow artwork we were building. It felt very satisfying. 'He told me he loved me!'

'How atrocious. I can see why that would upset you.'

'No! No, that's not it!'

'It isn't?

'No! I'm in love with him, too, curse him!'

'You are?' An expression of puzzlement crossed over her face that only the little sisters of attractive older brothers can produce. She shrugged. 'To each her own, I guess.'

I punched the snow again, then grabbed some more to fill out the holes I had made in our wintery masterpiece of art. We continued sculpting in silence for a while. Finally, Adaira said: 'Well, if that's not what you're angry about...what is it? Are you angry that he couldn't keep Dalgliesh from taking you?'

'What? No!' I made a dismissive gesture. 'That was nothing! I didn't even need his help to get away. I freed myself and was just about to start on my way back when he arrived.'

'You...you did?' There was an unholy amount of glee in Adaira's voice. Her eyes suddenly sparkled more brightly than the snow around us. 'Dear me.'

I had a feeling that Mr Ambrose would be hearing quite a few comments on this subject from his little sister in the days to come.

Good. Very good indeed.

'Yes. It's not about the kidnapping. It's not about him telling me he loves me on the ride back. But when we had returned, he...he...' Righteous anger made me choke on my words. Adaira made soothing noises, and I managed to gather myself enough to get out the words: 'He waited till the next morning – just one day after he swore that he loved me – and then he asked me to marry him!'

Silence.

Not cold silence. Not stony silence. No, this was a 'Yes,-and-what's-the-punch-line?' silence.

It took Adaira a moment to realise there wasn't one.

'Oh. How, um...atrocious? Horrific?'

I punched the snow in front of me, trembling, with...rage? Fear?

'I know, right? He said he loved me! How could he! How could he do this to me!'

'Um, yes. I must say it's really quite shocking. I mean, from love to marriage, how could anyone make that leap? It's an outrage.'

'Exactly! And that's not the worst of it!'

'It isn't?'

'No! His mother – your mother – wants it too! She approves of me!'