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‘As I love you, Ella, my heart’s delight.’
‘Oh Edmund. You do not know how long I have been waiting for you to say these words to me.’
‘They have lain ready on my tongue forever.’
He pressed her hands again.
‘So you will be mine?’
Suddenly, the colour left Ella’s cheeks again. The radiant smile that had lit up her features until a moment ago became laced with sadness.
‘Edmund, I…’
‘What? What is this? You said you loved me!’
‘I do! I do! But…’
Now there again were tears in Ella’s eyes. She didn’t seem to be able to continue. So Edmund spoke for her, slowly and gravely:
‘But the objections to our love which you so conscientiously explained to me before, still stand. Nothing has changed. The fact that we love each other does not mean that we can be together.’
Ella gave a shaky little nod.
‘What if you told your aunt that you did not love Sir Philip?’
‘I? Defy my dear, dear aunt? Oh please!’ She clasped her hands in supplication. ‘Please don't even make me think of such a thing!’
‘Then what do we do?’ he asked, sounding lost.
‘I don't know!’
Behind the bushes, I bit my lower lip, deep in thought. Well, I didn’t know either. But I’d be damned if that was going to stop me from doing something! At least I had plenty of time on my hands. My new job with Mr Ambrose was not very demanding. He didn’t seem to want anything from me at all.
Had I only known then how wrong I was about that.
The Discovery
The next day I noticed that I was quite distracted by Ella’s troubles. Do you want to know how I noticed? It wasn’t that I forgot to go to work, oh no. I forgot to change before going to work and almost walked up to Mr Stone’s desk in a long dress and hoop skirt, announcing myself as ‘Mr Linton’.
That would have been a real scandal for Mr Ambrose to worry about!
I noticed my wrong attire just in time and had to hurry back and change in a wild frenzy. By the time I had run back to Empire House it was already nine o'clock. I hurried up the stairs and into my office, only giving Mr Stone a brief nod in passing. My desperate lungs lacked the air for a proper greeting. Wheezing, I collapsed onto my chair and let my head fall onto the table.
Just then, a message container flew out of the tube with a quiet plink. With the one hand I felt capable of moving I picked it up, opened it and unrolled the message. My eyes focused on the words:
Mr Linton
You are 1 minute and 37 seconds late. If that occurs again, you can consider yourself dismissed.
Rikkard Ambrose
This chap really knew how to give you a warm welcome. For a moment I considered telling him about my sister’s romantic troubles, to make an excuse. But then I decided against it. It would be like trying to explain dancing the polka to a rock in the desert. He just wouldn’t get it.
Next I considered going over there and skinning him alive. But that might not be so great an idea either. First of all, it might get me sacked. Secondly, I couldn’t muster the energy to get up. And thirdly, the blasted door was still locked anyway!
A plink announced the arrival of the next message.
It appeared that I had to get up, whether I had the energy or not! The message read:
