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My mouth dropped open. Never in a million years had I expected that my brilliant excuse would backfire like this. What the hell could I tell her? I had absolutely no idea. I had absolutely no interest in men. What were women supposed to find attractive in men? Why would they lose their mind and fall in love with one?
Dear Lord, I had to tell her something, but what? Who from my acquaintance could I pick as my supposed lover? The only men I’d known for more than a couple of moments were my father, who was dead for years, and my Uncle Bufford, both of whom were, for obvious reasons, not good candidates. Should I pick one of the men from Sir Philip’s ball? But to be honest, I couldn’t remember a single one of them. Men just never seemed very important to me. They slipped my mind as soon as I left their company.
Well, except perhaps for one. A face appeared in front of my eyes.
‘Um… well…’ I began.
‘Come on,’ Ella urged. ‘Don’t be shy.’
‘Err… he’s tall, with dark hair and dark, sea-coloured eyes, almost black.’
She clapped her hands eagerly, like an excited little girl. ‘Oh, that sounds so dreamy and mysterious.’
‘You can say that again!’ Too mysterious for my liking… he still hadn’t breathed a word about the contents of that infernal file. Could there be something government-related in it? But if anything, Mr Ambrose struck me as the type who did what he wanted without reference to any government, his own or anybody else’s.
‘Is he good-looking?’
‘W-what?’ I resurfaced from my thoughts. Caught off guard, the words escaped me: ‘Yes, he is, definitely.’
Oh God! What have I just said?
But if I was being honest, it was true. Blast!
‘He… he has a chiselled face, and I mean literally chiselled: angular, and hard as stone. Maybe good-looking isn’t even the best word to describe him. Beautiful would be better. A harsh beauty.’
The image of the face in front of my inner eye intensified, and an unwilling smile crept on my face.
‘As for the rest of him… He has a figure like an antique statue, you know? A bit like Myron’s Discus Thrower[28], though he would never dream of assuming such an undignified position.’ I giggled. ‘He walks around most of the time as if he has an iron rod up his behind. He’s very serious, cool and distant, and about as free with his money as Uncle Brank. He always does what he wants, and nasty things happen to people who get in his way.’
Hmm… Perhaps I wasn’t doing a very good a job of portraying him as the fellow I was desperately in love with. Shouldn’t a lovable man have one good quality, at least? So I hurriedly added: ‘But I think he actually may have a good heart, very, very, very deep down.’
Who knew, it might actually be true. He had taken me on, after all.
But not as a girl, said a nasty little voice in the back of my mind. I shook my head, trying to concentrate.
‘Oh Lilly!’ Ella gripped both of my hands with hers. ‘I’m so happy for you! He sounds amazing, like a modern-day Mr Darcy.’
‘Hardly,’ I muttered, smirking at the comparison. ‘He wouldn’t spend ten thousand pounds on anybody, let alone me.’[29]
Ella’s smile only widened. ‘It sounds like you’re very fond of him.’
‘Does it?’
My eyebrows shot up. Apparently, I had done a better job than I’d thought. I had completely fooled her and made her believe I was in love with Mr Ambrose. I had no idea my acting skills were this developed. It seemed that male impersonations weren’t the only thing I did well in that regard.
‘And his name?’ Ella continued eagerly. ‘Tell me, who is he?’
Oops…
What to Do with Pink?
And his name? Tell me, who is he?
For just a moment, Ella’s question hung in the air between us like a big, wet elephant on a washing line.
‘Please, don't ask,’ I blurted out. ‘I, um… promised him to tell nobody. Yes, I promised!’
This was such a lousy excuse that no little sister in England would have accepted it. Other little sisters would have dug and bored and drilled until they had uncovered every last bit of the truth. But all those little sisters probably didn’t have a secret lover.
