Silent Stars | A Storm and Silence Fanfiction

07. Romantic Getaway?

07. Romantic Getaway?

Lilly 

"Mr Ambrose? Mr Ambrose?" I panted, darting into my dear husband's study. 

He looked up at me from his papers, then at Ellie, who was fastened around my hip. "What is it?" he questioned.

"She's growing teeth!" I exclaimed, beaming. 

"Indeed?" Mr Ambrose asked, his sea-coloured eyes widening infinitesimally. 

"Yes! Look!" I gently opened Ellie's mouth with my finger, revealing two, tiny, growing teeth. 

"Indeed." A millimetre of his eyebrows rose. "Is she in any pain? Teething tends to feel rather... unpleasant."

I examined Ellie's round, adorable face. "I don't know. It doesn't seem to hurt, yet."

After a few moments of silence, Ambrose half-sighed, "She's growing up quite quickly, don't you agree?"

The corners of my mouth curled up into a sad smile as I gazed at Ellie's sweet face. "Yes, she is."

You'll need to make the most out of the time you have, Lilly. I thought to myself. 

Just then, there was a soft knock at the door.

"Enter," Mr Ambrose ordered, curtly.

The door opened, and a young maid stood on the other side. 

"Ah, Betsy. Is something the matter?" I asked the maid.

"Err, my Lord," Betsy said, looking at my husband, "There's a visitor. He--says he has urgent news."

"Indeed?" He stood up.

"Y-yes. He would like to speak with you. In private."

"Very well. Come along, Lillian," he commanded, marching towards the door.

"But the visitor said--" the maid began. 

"Whatever he wishes to tell me, he can tell her." Mr Ambrose cut in. I smiled at his words. 

"O-of course," Betsy said, hurriedly, "I'm very sorry, my Lord."

Mr Ambrose didn't reply.

We strode down the corridors towards the great hall. Well, Mr Ambrose strode, that is. I found it slightly difficult to keep up in a hoopskirt and a chubby baby in my arms. Thankfully, I found a familiar freckled face with a pair of fiery red braids.

"Mina!" I panted, transferring Ellie into her arms, "Thank God you're here!"

"No problem, m'lady. Anything wrong?" 

"I'm not sure," I hollered to her as I jogged to catch up to Mr Ambrose. 

We entered the great hall and found the visitor. He was seated at the table, his back turned towards us. Mr Ambrose cleared his throat. 

The visitor turned to face us. As he did, his jaw dropped. Mine did, too.

"Bert?"

The young man's light gray eyes darted from me to my husband, looking shocked, afraid, and confused. "Err... aye."

His voice certainly became deeper, and he must have grown taller, too. His blond hair was as unkempt and as messy as ever. And he seemed to be slightly cleaner than he was the last time I saw him.

Mr Ambrose threw me a look which made me realize that I wasn't supposed to know Bert Harding. When I met him last, I was disguised as Mr Victor Linton. Right now, I was Lady Lillian Ambrose. Blast my big fat mouth!