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‘Love! Bah!’ Patsy gave a snort like a knight’s charger. ‘Love is nothing but an illusion, a myth perpetuated by the patriarchy to gain women’s willing cooperation for the slavery that is marriage! Oh, that I have to watch my best friend fall into that most insidious of masculine traps…’
‘I’m not!’ I protested. ‘I swear I’m not!’
‘…I can hardly bear the shame,’ she continued, completely ignoring me. ‘It is a black day for the feminist cause. A black day indeed.’
I tried a few more times to convince them that I was not being swept off my feet by a ravishing rake and carried to an impromptu altar in the wild north of Scotland - but to no avail. Patsy simply didn’t listen, continuing to bemoan the loss of her best friend and the blow that was to the feminist cause. And as for Eve and Flora - they looked so crestfallen whenever I tried to convince them that I was not, in fact, eloping with my secret paramour, that I didn’t have the heart to disabuse them.
Why try, anyway? I couldn’t very well tell them the truth. Tell Patsy that I was going north with a man who regularly paid me money for accompanying him and had taken me for a nice little visit to a whorehouse yesterday? Yep, that would be just great. Mr Ambrose wouldn’t survive the day. I could see the headline now: Businessman stabbed to death with sharpened parasol. Investigation ongoing.
So why not just let them believe the horrifyingly romantic hogwash? They would realise the truth as soon as I came back without a ring on my finger.
Unless…
I stomped down on that thought before it could go anywhere. Unless nothing! Nothing whatsoever! I didn’t have time to think about unless. I had work to do.
After a day filled with packing and organising, I said my final goodbyes to my family and friends that evening. Patsy was still outraged, but instead of punching me, she simply tried to hug me to death. Eve and Flora did a lot of giggling and squealing, and insisted on giving me an endless stream of wedding advice - quite impressive, considering that neither of them was actually married. Ella cried and clung to me and made me promise to write as often as I could buy, borrow or steal paper and ink. My other sisters, Gertrude, Lisbeth, Anne and Maria, were far less effusive in their affections for me, the former two because they didn’t like to show them, and the latter two because they didn’t have any. Aunt Brank gave me another ‘why aren’t you gone already?’ look, and dear old Uncle Bufford…
Well, he didn’t actually come out of his upstairs study, so I had no idea what his reaction was. But I’m sure he gave at least a friendly grumble into his beard. The two of us had started to get along quite well since I’d informed him I didn’t need him to pay me an allowance anymore.
Finally, I went to bed, expecting to get a good night’s sleep before my big trip tomorrow - but no such luck. The moment my head touched the pillow, a million pictures, possibilities and unanswered questions started to rise up inside me.
Mr Ambrose opening his watch, a noble family’s crest engraved upon the lid…
Mr Ambrose and Lord Dalgliesh shaking hands like they wanted to break each other’s bones…
The Ambrose fa
mily name in an edition of Burke’s Peerage…
Years and years of letters from Mr Ambrose’s mother - all unanswered.
There was too much unanswered all around. Questions, especially. Why this distance between Mr Ambrose and his family? Where did the enmity with Lord Dalgliesh stem from? What in God’s name was the name of the very much self-made businessman Rikkard Ambrose doing in Burke’s Peerage? And, most importantly: what would happen once Mr Ambrose and I were ensconced in the carriage, all alone, huddled close together on our way up north?
The mere thought made my heart dance a galop.
One thing was for sure: the north held answers. About Mr Ambrose. About me. And maybe, just maybe, about the two of us together.
That was my last thought before, finally, darkness claimed me and I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, I got up on tiptoes at the ungodly hour of five a.m. and was about to sneak downstairs so I wouldn’t wake anyone - only to find Ella and my three best friends all waiting to ambush me at the back door. Phew, was I glad I hadn’t changed into my tailcoat and trousers yet!
‘You didn’t really think we’d let you slip away without a last goodbye, did you?’ Ella demanded, tears shimmering in her eyes. Throwing her arms around me, she pulled me close. ‘Safe journey, Lill! Do you have everything? Warm woollens? Something to eat on the road? Your gloves?’
‘My glo - oh.’ I cleared my throat. ‘Oh, yes. I have my, um, gloves.’
‘Well, whoever they are for, I hope they fit well.’
I felt my ears grow hot. ‘I certainly do so, too.’
‘And when you’re back, you’ll tell me everything, all right?’
‘Well…maybe not everything.’
Patsy chose that moment to shoulder Ella aside and enfold me in a vice-tight grip. ‘It’s not too late! You can abandon that fool of a man and come to your senses.’
I gave her a sad little smile. ‘No, I don’t think I can.’
Patsy gave me another hug, and a grim pat on the back. ‘Nice knowing you.’
