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I had a chaperone. A chaperone.
And not just that.
I had a turban-wearing, sabre-swinging, seven-foot-tall chaperone with a figure like a whole team of wrestlers and a beard the size of Lincolnshire. A chaperone who would use hard fists instead of soft reprimands to make sure nothing ‘improper’ would be going on.
Concerned about my safety?
Ha!
Mr Rikkard Ambrose was about as concerned about my safety as a turtle was concerned about forgetting its shell at home. It was just a ruse! A ruse to make sure that a certain captain of the British Army didn’t come within a hundred feet of me.
Lady Samantha, unfortunately, wasn’t quite perceptive enough to see through her son’s diabolical plans. Instead, she was delighted at the interest her dear Ricky seemed to take in my ‘safety’, and immediately forgave him everything for which she had been blaming him, the scheming son of a bachelor!
‘Isn’t it sweet of him that he’s being so thoughtful?’ she whispered, pressing my hand and glancing over at Karim, who stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed, stiff as a piece of furniture. (If furniture could scowl and carry heavy weaponry.)
‘Oh yes. Very sweet.’
‘He must really care for you.’
My heart made a leap, and I glanced over at Karim again. Had he heard? He shouldn’t be able to. We were speaking very low, and he was across the room from us. But I wouldn’t put it past that big bearded brute to have the ears of an Egyptian fruit bat hidden away somewhere under that turban of his.
So I simply gave Lady Samantha’s hand a gentle squeeze in return and winked. Her face broke into a dreamy smile. Never in my life had a wink been received with so much delight.
‘Oh, my dear! So there is something between the two of you! I knew it! I simply knew it! Has he…has he said anything yet?’
‘Hm, let me think…’ Considering, I tapped my chin. ‘I think I do remember him speaking a word or two…’
‘Really?’ Her eyes went wide.
‘Yes. I think it was last year. The words were “work” and “faster”. If I remember, he used them quite a bit on his employees.’
‘Oh, Miss Linton! Don’t jest with me!’
‘You called me Lillian before,’ I pointed out.
‘Did I?’ Her ears turned pink. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear. I must have been overcome, seeing you safe and sound again after I heard you were injured.’
‘I don’t mind.’
Our gazes met and held for a long, long moment. There was understanding in the air between us. ‘Neither did I,’ Her Ladyship said, softly. ‘I shall look forward to the day when I can call you Lillian, my dear.’
With a smile, she rose and turned away. Perhaps it was my imagination, but just before she left the room, I thought I heard the whispered words ‘…and maybe even call you daughter.’
Blood rose to my cheeks, and I hoped against hope that Karim had not heard that.
*~*~**~*~*
Thud!
‘Ow! What, by the beard of the-!’
‘He! What is this?’ Shoving forward, I pushed against the door.
Thud! ‘Ouch! Stop that, you accursed woman!’
‘Karim? Karim, is that you?’
‘Who else?’
