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She raised an eyebrow at me.
‘All right, all right, it probably is. But still-’
I didn’t get to finish. Springing to her feet, Adaira started pacing up and down gesticulating wildly.
‘Hell! Bloody, stinking hell! Rick, do you have any idea what will happen if people….Oh God, I don’t even want to think about it! And if mother hears about this…no, no, no! She’s going to have a coronary. She’ll think it’s her fault. She will! She’ll tell herself she should never have let you pla
y with those dolls when you were a toddler, and-’
My head whipped around to stare at Mr Ambrose. ‘You played with dolls?’
He gave me an arctic look. ‘Mr Linton! Would you please focus on the most important subject of the current discussion?’
A grin spread across my face. ‘I am! What kind of dolls? Were they nice and cuddly?’
‘Be quiet! The both of you!’ Pulling out her folded fan, Adaira waved it in our direction like a sword. ‘You’ve done enough damage for one day - or should I say night? Good God! The thought of what the two of you have been up to…’
‘Actually, we just-’
‘Don’t! I don’t want to know!’ Pressing a hand hard over each ear, Adaira retreated, grabbing the doorknob of the connecting door. ‘I have to think! I have to get out of here! And…heck.’ Her eyes darted to me. ‘I have to warn your sister! She doesn’t have any idea what’s going on here, does she, Mr Linton? You have been making the beast with two backs with my brother all this time, and have dragged that poor, innocent girl into this house of sin you’ve created, this Sodom and Gomorrah? What kind of man are you? Oh, I don’t even want to know! Where is her room? Tell me! Where can I find her?’
I pondered how best to answer that question. ‘Um…well, you see…’
‘Never mind! I’ll find her myself!’
And she dashed through the connecting door, into my room, on the search for clues.
There followed a few moments of silence.
Then, slowly, she backed out of the room again, clutching an empty dress in her hand.
‘Why,’ she asked in a very calm, very collected voice, ‘is there a lady’s dress on your dresser, Mr Linton? The same dress I saw your sister wear the first time I met her?’
I didn’t answer. Instead, I simply rose to my feet, took the dress out of her unresisting hand, and held it up against myself, raising my chin and meeting her gaze. Adaira’s eyes went wide with comprehension. Wider than saucers. Wider than dinner plates. Wider than wagon wheels, actually.
‘Oh my,’ she breathed.
‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘Let’s just say…I’m versatile.’
*~*~**~*~*
‘So…you’re really a girl under that tailcoat?’
It was about a quarter of an hour later. Adaira and I were alone in Mr Ambrose’s room. My dear employer had departed to establish new security parameters with his men, and to avoid more questions on the subject of dolls. No matter. I would get my hands on him sooner or later. For now, it was more important to acquaint his little sister with my alter ego.
I smiled at Adaira.
‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
‘Really? You’re sure?’ Cautiously, Adaira poked a finger in my side - then yelped and pulled it back when she felt something hard.
‘Relax! That’s just my corset.’
‘R-really?’
‘Yes!’ I grinned. ‘I’m one hundred per cent certified female. Here, see?’ Taking her fan, I snapped it open and waved air at myself and batted my eyelashes in a way no self-respecting man could have imitated without choking to death. Well, except Sir Philip Wilkins, maybe.
‘Heaven be praised! You’re a girl. A real, honest to God girl!’ Placing a hand over her heart, she sank back into an armchair. ‘Thank God! My brother is a ruthless womaniser!’
