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‘Now,’ he whispered. ‘Not a word until they have gone.’

I held my breath.

And then, the footsteps stopped outside, right in front of the room in which we were hidden.

‘What should we do with this sack, My Lord?’ I heard one of the soldiers' muffled voices.

‘See if there’s still space in that room, and put it there.’

‘Aye, My Lord.’

That room? They didn’t mean… they couldn’t mean this room, surely?

A moment later, my silent question was answered by the creak of the door as it swung wide open. Hell’s whiskers! They were inside, separated from us only by an inch or so of flimsy wood! I pressed my face into Mr Ambrose’s chest to keep from screaming. My nerves were stretched to breaking point.

And then, something happened which I would never have believed possible in a million years:

Mr Ambrose put his arms around me.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to lie to me, saying that it was going to be all right or that we were sure to get out of this alive. He just put his arms around me and held me, close to his chest, in a way no man ever had dared to do before. I inhaled the clean scent of him - the clean scent of rough, simple soap, with a hint of something musky I couldn’t identify. Maybe his own odour - or maybe the smell of too much money. Whatever it was, it was oddly comforting.

How could a smell be comforting? How could it feel so good for a strong, independent girl like me to be held in the arms of a man? This man, whom I hardly knew, and from whom I only wanted nothing more than a pay cheque every month? Why would it make me feel warm and safe to be in his arms?

Memories began to well up inside me, memories long repressed and half-forgotten, of a night at Empire House, and of the same man, doing much the same thing, and a lot more besides. Hard arms around me, hot lips on mine, heat rising inside me…

I tensed in anticipation as I felt his hands move up and cup the side of my face.

‘Silence,’ he whispered into my ear in a voice so cool and soft it felt like the caress of a snowflake. ‘Simply silence. They must not hear a thing.’

You see? I yelled at myself. He’s simply doing this to keep you quiet! Be sensible. Don’t dare to imagine there’s anything else behind it!

His hand began gently stroking my face, soft as the first snow of winter falling on rose petals.

Oh God…

Don’t think. Don’t move. Don’t feel. Then, maybe, you can make it through this without contemplating who is just now pressing you to his chest as if you were his heart’s desire! Don’t think! Don’t think!

I forced myself to freeze, to stiffen into an unresponsive block of wood, as dead as the wood wool beneath me. I forced my ears to concentrate not on the breathing right above me, not on the hyperactive thumping of my own heart, but on the voices outside.

And it was as well I did so, considering what came next.

‘Hear, Your Lordship?’

‘Yes, exactly.’

I heard a dull, metallic thud as something heavy was dropped on the floor outside.

‘Very well.’ Lord Dalgliesh’s voice, muffled by the wall of wood between us, came from somewhere to my left. ‘I will go and instruct the captain about our course. You men check that everything is secure and then take up your posts. Understood?’

‘Aye, Your Lordship.’

There came several sharp clacks, and I realized the soldiers were snapping their heels together and saluting. Footsteps left the room.

No! Don’t go! You’re the only thing that keeps me distracted from Mr Am… from the someone whom I can’t think about, but who holds me in his arms, so strong, hard, unyielding! Don’t go, my dear, deadly enemies! I need you!

The hand on my cheek slowly wandered downwards, over my neck, down my spine, to the small of my back. The man whose name I couldn’t think pressed me closer against him. If only it were not totally dark around us! The blackness robbed me of any distractions, made touch the only sense I had and intensified it a thousandfold. I could feel every breath he took, every tiny movement he made against me.

He doesn't mean anything by it! He’s only doing this to keep you calm, to keep you from screaming, to keep you from acting as he thinks every silly girl who meddles in men’s affairs would act! Keep it together! He doesn't care about you!

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