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‘Have the coach readied for departure,’ he cut her off. ‘This won’t take long. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
And, rising to his feet, he marched off towards the grand staircase leading up to his father’s chambers.
For a moment, the three of us sat in silence. Then Lady Samantha folded her napkin and rose with a worried little sigh.
‘Well, I think I’d better go and make sure that the carriage is ready.’
I waited until the door had closed behind her, then quickly jumped to my feet, too.
‘Well, I think I’d better go and-’
‘-listen at the keyhole to find out what my brother is saying to Father?’ Adaira finished with a small, innocent smile.
I grinned at her. ‘If I didn’t already have six of them who’re nothing like me, sometimes I’d think you could be my sister.’
Like a pair of dust devils, we raced off towards the staircase. Except for my short foray up the stairs when I’d needed a good vantage point to shoot at Lady Samantha’s latest guest, I’d never been upstairs before. It was a different world. Whereas the lower levels of the house clearly bore signs of Lady Samantha’s influence, with pink cushions, pink flowered wallpaper and vases that held roses which were - surprises, surprise - pink, the upstairs was dominated by paintings and busts of austere-looking gentlemen, massive dark wood furniture and a general air of impending doom that proclaimed ‘Danger! Male Ambrose in residence!’
Clearly, this was the domain of The Most Honourable The Marquess Ambrose.
‘What now?’ I whispered.
‘Father’s study is over there.’ Adaira pointed down a corridor lined with portraits of noble ancestors giving us disapproving looks.
‘How welcoming.’
‘Yes, Father is really warm and fuzzy.’
We proceeded through several majestic rooms and down high hallways. Finally, Adaira raised her finger to her lips - which either meant I still had some breakfast stuck on my lip, or we were approaching our goal and I should keep quiet. I went with the latter. Cautiously, I stuck my head around the last corner - and instantly pulled it back.
‘There are two goons in livery standing in front of the door!’
‘Drat!’ Adaira bit her lip, thinking. ‘Maybe…no, that won’t work. But perhaps…yes!’ She snapped her fingers. ‘Come with me!’
And she drew me through a door leading off to the side, into a small salon with the ugliest turquoise-beige flower-pattern wallpaper I had ever seen in my life.
‘What are we doing in here?’ I enquired. ‘Planning emergency redecorating?’
‘No, of course not! Alth
ough, now that you mention it, that would actually be a great idea. No, we’re here for this.’
And she pointed to a set of French doors opening on a balcony.
I needed no further explanation. In an instant, I was at the doors and outside in the fresh air. The balcony - praise the architect - had a solid stone railing, perfect for hiding two curious girls. And as luck would have it, the window to the neighbouring room stood open a crack. Fate clearly approved of eavesdropping.
Unfortunately, the wind didn’t seem to share fate’s opinion. It was blowing hard, making both of us shiver and, more importantly, drowning out half of the words that came from next door. But the other half, the words that we heard…
Oh boy.
Au Revoir
‘Son.’
‘Father.’
Translation:
I would like to murder you with a rusty axe.
