'Maria? What are you doing at the door? Where is Leadfield?'
'L-Lilly?'
'You're not sure? That hurts my feelings. I distinctly remember you telling me once you'd recognize my ugly mug from sixty paces.'
'N-no! It can't be you! Go away!'
She tried to slam the door on me. She honestly tried to slam the door shut right in my face! Luckily, you don't spend a year working for Rikkard Stubborn-As-A-Rock Ambrose without learning a thing or two about persistence. My foot wedged itself in the door before I even had time to think about it.
'No! Don't come in! Leave! I don't want to get sick!'
The barrage of words I had been about to unleash died on my lips.
Sick?
My eyes flicked from left to right, once again taking in the empty streets, the closed shutters, the barred doors. A cold shiver went down my back. And unfortunately, it wasn't because Rikkard Ambrose was standing behind me.
'Maria, it's really me. It's me, Lilly! Open up!'
'My stupid sister has run way! She isn't here! She can't be!'
'I'm back. That happens when people return, you know. And I'm as healthy as a horse. Now open the door!'
For a moment, nothing but silence came from the other side of the door.
'How do I know this really is Lilly?' Maria's suspicious voice finally reached my ears. 'You sound like her, but—'
'Open the door this minute, you bloody little nitwit, or I'll kick it down and stab you with my parasol!'
There was another moment of silence.
'All right. It is you.'
Slowly, the door creaked open.
'Lilly! Good God, Lilly, where have you been all this time?'
I waved her question away. 'Never mind that now. What's going on here? Where are Uncle and Aunt?'
Maria swallowed.
'Up in the North of England.'
What? All that bloody anxiety for nothing? I had composed over five different speeches to explain my marriage machinations on the way here, and now it was all for nothing? Crap! 'Do you think that if they were here we'd still be stuck here? We should have left the city days ago! But you know Uncle Bufford! He left us enough money for water and dried bread crusts, but not for coach tickets out of the city, let alone the rent of a place somewhere safe in the country!'
'What do you mean, somewhere safe? Why did they leave? What happened?'
'An...an old army friend of uncle's died, and they went up to the funeral. But then...then...'
Trembling, she sank against the wall.
Maria, trembling? And worse, not trying to insult or harass me? Dear God. Things had to be bad.
'Then people started dying.'
'An epidemic?' I squeezed past around the lump in my throat. 'What kind?'
'How should I know? I'm no doctor!'
'Yes, but you have eyes, and you can read the paper.'
'The newspaper?' She wrinkled her oh-so-delicate nose. 'That's unladylike!'
YOU ARE READING
Hunting for Silence
RomanceBritish business mogul Rikkard Ambrose has departed London to face his arch-rival in a deadly game of espionage and intrigue at the Royal Court of France, leaving his lady love behind to knit socks and twiddle her thumbs. Left behind alone? That is...