Silence Breaking

48. The Last Day

Things went very, very fast. One moment I was standing in front of Mr Ambrose, a bundle of clothes in my bare arms, the next, the man who had sworn eternal love to me pushed me over onto the carpet–

Thud!

'Ouch!'

–and shoved me under the bed.

'Nng!'

Who said gentlemanly chivalry was dead? You simply had to admire a gentleman who assisted a lady with such swiftness. And the moment I was out from under this bed, I would show him my admiration with a swift kick in the butt!

Right now, however, the only things in sight were his feet, and the rather smelly, dusty carpet. God, how long had it been since this thing had been cleaned? I would have to have a word with the chambermaid.

Click.

The door opened and another pair of feet, this one wearing pink shoes, entered the room.

'Ah. Good morning, Mother.'

All right – butt kicking postponed.

'Rick! Are you all right, my son?'

'Certainly. Why wouldn't I be?'

'Well, you didn't show up for breakfast, and now I find you here looking all flushed and hot. Do you have a fever?'

I glanced down at my lack of ladylike – or indeed any – attire. Yes, he definitely has. But not the kind you are probably referring to, Your Ladyship.

'No.'

'Are you sure? Let me feel your forehead. Lie down on the bed for a minute and–'

'No! The bed is perfectly fine! And so am I.'

'Oh. Um...very well.'

'Stop beating around the bush, Mother. We both know you are not here because I missed breakfast. It wouldn't be the first time, and it won't be the last. What do you really want?'

There was a pause.

'Very well. You're right. I did have another reason for coming here.' Another pause. 'I noticed you danced with Miss Linton last night.'

Oh, yes, he danced with me all right! We danced fandango the pokum quite a lot...

'Correct.'

'The two of you...get along well?'

'As well as an employer can get along with the immature younger sibling of his secretary.'

My mouth dropped open.

Oh? So I was an immature younger sibling, was I? I'd show him immature!

Snaking my arm out from under the bed, I tickled the back of his knee. He flinched and shifted to shield me from his mother.

'So you have no – how should I put this – plans with regard to Miss Linton?'

'Plans?' Reaching a bit higher, I pinched him in the butt. He flinched again, then gave the bed a kick so a blanket fell down and shut me in. Damn him! 'I have no idea what you mean, Mother!'

In that moment, I was so very tempted to lift the blanket, wave at Lady Samantha and chirp 'Good morning, Your Ladyship.' So very, very tempted. But if I did that, there probably wouldn't be any way to get around the marriage thing. Mr Ambrose would drag me to the altar with a lasso, if necessary.

'Oh. No plans at all?' There was no way I could miss the humongous mass of disappointment in Lady Samantha's voice. I almost felt bad for not throwing away my feminist principles and tying myself to a dictatorial chauvinist for the rest of my life. Almost. 'Are you sure?'