Silence Breaking

42. Dark Promises

Had Mr Ambrose and I been arguing? I suddenly couldn't remember or care. That one word, that name, tipped the whole world on its head. Our eyes met, and it was as if our disagreement had never existed. Suddenly, Mr Rikkard Ambrose and I were on the same team, and we would fight fiercely till the end.

The end of anyone who was against us.

Oh Lilly, a voice whispered in my head. It doesn't really matter whether you want to bind yourself to him or not. You already are. And you don't even want to get free.

Squashing that rogue thought with all my might, I stepped up beside Mr Ambrose and took his hand. He gave mine a squeeze, and I squeezed back. No words were spoken – and yet, for once, I knew exactly what he was thinking.

I turned to the man who had come to warn us. 'Fetch Karim. Tell him to come quickly and... no. No, don't tell him that.' An idea popped into my head and, suddenly, insanely, I had to smile. 'Tell him it wasn't me who invented Prince Fragrant Yellow Flower in the Happy Moonlight – but I know who did, and I might be willing to tell him.'

The man blinked at me. 'P-pardon, Miss? Prince who?' His gaze flickered to Mr Ambrose in an are-you-sure-she-has-all-of-her-marbles way.

He returned the man's gaze with implacable force.

'Do as she says.'

The man paled, turned on his heels and dashed off through the snow. Glancing over at me, Mr Ambrose cocked his head. 'I believe Karim will be coming to meet us very quickly indeed.'

'Yes, Sir. I believe he will, too.'

'You have learned quite a lot about how to handle a man.'

'Indeed I have, Sir.' Smiling, I lifted one eyebrow at him. 'And don't you forget it.'

He gave me a long, long look. 'I shall endeavour not to.'

Mr Rikkard Ambrose extended his arm to me like the perfect gentleman he would never be.

'Shall we?'

Without thinking twice about it, I slipped my arm into his.

'We shall.'

And we set out towards the house, leaving behind a sad pile of snow, an old top hat and a half-eaten carrot. As we proceeded along the garden path, more people joined us. Men of all sizes and ages, but all with the same hard, sharp, sensible look in their eyes – a look that I had seen every time I looked at one of Mr Ambrose's hired guards. Halfway to the house, a big shadow rushed out from behind a hedge and planted himself in front of me.

'Who?' Karim demanded. 'Who was it that brought shame upon me? Whoever it was, I shall rip them apart! I shall fight them to the death and then I shall take their dead body and–'

Further description of what the poor, unsuspecting bodyguard intended to do with his employer's little sister was cut off by one of Mr Ambrose's trademark arctic stares.

'Not now, Karim.'

'But Sahib, the insult to my honour–'

'–will still be just as insulting in an hour or two. There is not time right now. Dalgliesh is here.'

Karim had just been about to open his mouth to protest again – but at hearing that, he shut up. His hand shot to the sabre at his belt, and his eyes turned into slits. I had a feeling that whatever he had planned for the inventor of Prince Fragrant Yellow Flower in the Happy Moonlight, it was nothing compared to what he'd like to do to Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh.