Storm and Silence

I need a man. A man, Miss Linton. Not a girl who will run off screaming at the things she will see where my business takes me.

By that, I was sure, he had meant more than seeing the inside of file boxes.

I wanted him to accept me as his secretary. As his female secretary, however scandalous other people would consider that. Yet I was also slightly afraid of what would happen if he did. What would he do if I really managed to convince him to let me work for him for real? Or more importantly, what would I have to do?

When I got home, my aunt was waiting and ready for battle, glaring at me like an emaciated Valkyrie. I was half expecting her to be holding a sharp spear and riding an eight-legged horse.

‘Where were you?’ she demanded.

‘I was in the park walking, showing off my charms to the young men there,’ I lied brightly. ‘Just in case I might happen to come across Lieutenant Ellingham.’

‘Oh.’ My aunt’s thin lips relaxed a tiny little bit. ‘Really? Well… good. That’s very good.’

‘I shall do that often now, if it is all right with you, Aunt,’ I continued quickly, determined to exploit this sudden inspiration to the limits. Darn it! Why hadn’t I thought of this before? ‘After all, now that I have been introduced into society, there are hundreds of men I could meet. Thousands, in fact. And the more I meet…’

‘You’re quite right.’ My aunt came up to me. For a moment I was worried that she might want to hug me, which would have been slightly awkward because (a) we were both wearing hoop skirts and (b) I hated her guts, skeleton and strict, black boots. But instead, she merely laid a hand on my arm. It was enough for me to want to run screaming and take a bath in the Thames. ‘I’m very happy you’ve finally started behaving like a lady, Lilly. I knew you would see sense some day.’

I thanked her like a proper little lady and then hurried off. Not towards the Thames for a bath, because I knew perfectly well that it was full of dirty toilet paper. Instead, I directed my steps towards the garden.

Why the garden, you may ask?

Simple. Over all the questions about Mr Ambrose that were plaguing my poor, chocolate-deprived brain, I had not forgotten my sister and her problems. When I had entered the house, the sun had just been about to set. I knew perfectly well what that meant.

Ella and Edmund would soon have their nocturnal rendezvous in the garden. So I went out there and this time didn’t even stop to take a book with me. Tonight, I was quite sure, I wouldn’t need literature to take my mind off things. Judging from the number of flowers that had arrived in my absence, the evening’s conversation would provide more than enough distraction.

As soon as the moon rose over the streets of London, I heard a rustle from the door and, through the bushes behind which I had concealed myself again, saw Ella hurrying past. Only a moment later, Edmund appeared on the other side of the fence.

‘Ella, my love,’ he called in a damnably audible whisper. ‘Oh, how it fills my heart to see you!’

‘And mine,’ sighed Ella. Then she hesitated. ‘I mean my heart is filled with joy from seeing you, not from seeing myself. That would be silly. I see myself every morning in the mirror.’ She brightened. ‘But now you are here!’ She exclaimed. ‘I have been waiting all day to see you!’

‘Your words make my soul sing, Ella. Please, step closer, into the moonlight, so I may behold your lovely face.’

‘I will. But first… first I have to tell you something, Edmund.’

‘What?’ he asked, his breath catching.

‘It is the strangest thing,’ Ella muttered. ‘I would not even mention such a strange, trivial occurrence if not for your words yesterday, but…’

‘But what? My words yesterday? What words?’ Now I could hear a distinct note of anxiety in Edmund’s voice.

It must have shown on his face, too, because Ella smiled at him hesitantly, caught off guard by his expression. ‘Well… what you said about the flowers. You remember? You told me to tell you if Sir Philip sent me any more flowers.’

I glanced at the young man. Now the expression on his face wasn’t simply anxious anymore. It was panicked.

‘Yes, and? Has he sent you another bouquet?’

‘One?’ Ella giggled. ‘No, not one. I tell you, the man must be very eccentric, I cannot otherwise account for his behaviour. He sent me dozens of bouquets. I had no idea there were that many flowers to buy in the whole city of London. I…’ She broke off when she saw Edmund’s face.

‘Edmund? Edmund, what is wrong? What ails you?’

‘My heart is breaking,’ he answered tonelessly, staring into the distance with empty eyes. ‘That is what ails me. It is as I thought. I am doomed.’

I leaned forward, resting my head on my knees. This was good. Better than the theatre, except that I couldn’t throw peanuts at the actors. I doubt Ella would have appreciated that.

‘What is the matter?’ My little sister wrung her hands in sudden desperation. ‘Oh Edmund, reveal to me this terrible secret you are carrying! What is it about those flowers that makes you fear them like death itself?’

‘Worse than death,’ he mutters. ‘A thousand deaths and the tortures of hell.’

Dear me! That fellow had definitely read too many romantic novels. I considered interrupting and telling him he was overdoing it.

But then, on second thoughts, maybe I’d rather not.

‘Tell me, Edmund! Tell me, what are they?’

‘The flowers are a sign of affection,’ said Edmund, his voice as hollow as a drainpipe through which all his hopes were flooding away. ‘Sir Philip wishes to seek your hand in marriage.’

Ella stiffened. All colour drained from her face. I covered my eyes with my hand and let it slip down my face. Good God in heaven, she was actually surprised.

‘No!’

‘Yes, he does.’

‘No, Edmund…’

‘And who can blame him?’ he continued. ‘You are indeed a fair maiden, Miss Linton. Every gentleman in England should be seeking your hand. You…’ his voice broke, and after a moment he continued: ‘You are far too good and beautiful for common folk.’

‘Edmund! What are you saying?’ She cried out.

‘I am saying goodbye, Miss Linton.’