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His eyes flashed - then, without another word, he whirled around and stalked out of the room.
*~*~**~*~*
The day drifted by in a haze of sleep and pain, with occasional spurts of normality. The doctor came to see me and was very solicitous for my health - until he learned that I, the humble secretary, and not the mega-super-ultra-rich Mr Rikkard Ambrose would be footing the bill for his efforts. He left in a huff, recommending leech therapy. The ‘Why don’t you stay then?’ I shouted after him presumably didn’t help.
Oh well, it was probably better if he didn’t examine me too closely. If I lifted my shirt so he could check for broken ribs, it would have been rather difficult to explain what he found there. Not much, true, but enough to unequivocally disqualify me for trousers.
I was just poking experimentally at my ribs, trying to decide whether there was anything cracked, or whether it was the wobbly stuff that was hurting like hell, when I heard shouting from outside the house. Shouting, hoof beats and…trumpet signals?
Maybe I was becoming delirious.
Or maybe not, I decided a minute later, when heavy footsteps came thundering down the corridor.
‘Sir, Sir you can’t go in there! Sir, Mr Linton is recuperating, and-’
‘I don’t bloody care! Out of my way, woman!’
Hey, wait a minute! I knew that voice. That was-
Something - or someone - hit the door. It slammed open, and there he stood: Captain James Carter in his bright red regimentals, his hat still on his head and an expression on his face the like of which I had never seen before.
‘Ah,’ I croaked. ‘Captain Carter, it’s you. Do come in, make yourself comfortable. Such a pleasure to see you again.’
‘I’m not here for pleasantries, Mr Linton!’
‘Aren’t you? Dear me, I would never have guessed from the courteous way you beat my door down.’
‘Where is she?’
‘Who?’
‘You know perfectly well who! Lady Samantha told me you had taken her to Newcastle - then, not two hours later, Major Strickland receives a message that riots have broken out all over town, people are being lynched and houses are being plundered! Where is she, Mr Linton? Where is your sister?’
‘Ah, ehem…well…’ How best to answer this question? After a moment’s consideration, I decided on, ‘I’m afraid Lilly can’t see you right now. She is too badly hurt to see anyone at the moment.’
To judge by the look on his face, it had been the wrong thing to say. ‘Hurt? She was injured? Mr Linton, so help me God, if you don’t act the man you are, get up off that damned sickbed and lead me to her right now, I will pull you up on your feet and strangle you!’
‘Dear me. Well, if you put it like that…how can I refuse? I’m sure Lilly will really, really appreciate your concern. Please wait here while I see whether she is awake.’
Somehow, with the help of a bedpost, a curtain, a bedside table and a helpless nightshirt misused as a rope, I managed to manoeuvre myself to my feet. Groaning, I hobbled towards the connecting door leading to the next room.
‘And you’re sure you absolutely - ouch! - must see - ow! - Lillian, Captain Carter?’
‘I will not rest till I’ve seen that she is safe and well. I won’t trust her to you, Mr Linton. Not after today. From what I’ve seen of you so far, you are a highly reprehensible young man, and the sooner she is away from you, the better!’
‘Really? Ouch! Good luck with that.’
Shutting the connecting door behind me, I quickly hobbled to the empty four-poster bed in the corner and sank down onto the sheets. Giving the curtains a hasty tug, I pulled them closed until there was only a slim sliver of myself visible, and pulled the covers up to my chin.
‘Come in,’ I called in a tremulous, pain-wrecked voice. Funnily enough, it wasn’t very hard to fake.
With a squeak, the door swung open. Quick, lithe footsteps crossed the room, and, a moment later, the curtains began to move back.
‘Please, no!’ I called. ‘The light hurts my eyes.’
‘Miss Linton?’
‘Captain Carter? Is that truly you? My brother said you were outside, but I-’
