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‘Stop beating around the bush, Mother. We both know you are not here because I missed breakfast. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. What do you really want?’
There was a pause.
‘Very well. You’re right. I did have another reason for coming here.’ Another pause. ‘I noticed you danced with Miss Linton last night.’
Oh, yes, he danced with me all right! We danced fandango the pokum quite a lot…[21]
‘Correct.’
‘The two of you…get along well?’
‘As well as an employer can get along with the immature younger sibling of his secretary.’
My mouth dropped open.
Oh? So I was an immature younger sibling, was I? I’d show him immature!
Snaking my arm out from under the bed, I tickled the back of his knee. He flinched and shifted to shield me from his mother.
‘So you have no - how should I put this - plans with regard to Miss Linton?’
‘Plans?’ Reaching a bit higher, I pinched him in the butt. He flinched again, then gave the bed a kick so a blanket fell down and shut me in. Damn him! ‘I have no idea what you mean, Mother!’
In that moment, I was so very tempted to lift the blanket, wave at Lady Samantha and chirp ‘Good morning, Your Ladyship.’ So very, very tempted. But if I did that, there probably wouldn’t be any way to get around the marriage thing. Mr Ambrose would drag me to the altar with a lasso, if nece
ssary.
‘Oh. No plans at all?’ There was no way I could miss the humongous mass of disappointment in Lady Samantha’s voice. I almost felt bad for not throwing away my feminist principles and tying myself to a dictatorial chauvinist for the rest of my life. Almost. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely. Miss Lillian Linton is nothing but a silly, immature girl with a tendency towards temper tantrums.’
Bloody hell, he was a master dissembler! He sounded so convincing, you would never guess he didn’t believe what he said.
Wait a moment…he didn’t believe what he just said, right?
If he actually meant that, if he…oh, just you wait until I get my hands on you, Rikkard Ambrose!
‘I have no plans to be married in the foreseeable future, Mother. It would take a rare woman indeed to change my mind.’
Oh. All right, maybe I wouldn’t strangle him after all.
‘Since you are here, Mother, I might as well take this opportunity to tell you-’
Oh, really? You think right now is the best opportunity to talk to your mother, do you?
‘-I’m leaving Battlewood.’
What?
‘What?’
‘Adaira requested-’
Ordered, more like.
‘-that I come for Christmas. I have done so. Christmas has passed. The ball is over. I’m returning to London. I have business to take care of.’
‘But…you…your father-’
