Chapter 30: 30. New Protection

Silence reigned. Where before the air had been filled with the chatter of villagers and the rattle of tools, now there was only one thing: silence. Beside me, Tom sat, mouth agape, staring down the roof at something—or someone.

'You. Boy,' a voice came from behind me. 'Leave.'

Tom moved faster than a speeding bullet. And if you think that's hyperbole, think again. During the last few years, I'd had more encounters with speeding bullets than I cared to count, and I was very familiar with their various attributes.

I, for my part, was in no hurry. Leisurely sliding the string I was holding between the straw, I tied the required knot, drew it tight, and only then slowly rose and turned to face him.

'Hello, Mr Ambrose.'

He stood at the gable of the roof, gazing down upon me like the admiral standing at the prow of a ship. An admiral rather dissatisfied with his underling. His eyes, glittering icily, were narrowed infinitesimally.

'What are you doing?' he demanded.

'Good works,' I informed him cheerfully, reaching for the shears again and resuming my work. 'In case you don't know what that is, look it up in the dictionary under "G".' I frowned. 'Or maybe under "W". I'm not altogether sure.'

'Miss Linton...! I...I...'

'...would never waste money on a dictionary?'

I hadn't thought anyone could move as fast as he did on top of a steeply sloping roof. In an instant, he was standing before me. Strong, long fingers closed around my wrists and hauled me up against him.

'I cannot believe you you'd risk yourself like this!'

'Like what?' I asked, although of course I knew perfectly well.

'Dalgliesh is here! Dalgliesh!' His voice dropping to an icy whisper, he drew me even closer until his body was pressing against mine, hard. As if he wants to shield me. 'And you're unprotected, out in the open. You of all people should know what that means.'

Those storm-coloured eyes of his bored into mine, and reflected in their depths I could almost see the snow-laden hut in which Dalgliesh had held me hostage, the blood of the wounds he had suffered at the hand of Dalgliesh men, and a hundred other things I didn't even want to think about. His hand touched my cheek.

The flippant reply I had been about to make died on my tongue.

Darn! I had loved that flippant reply. I would see to it that it got a decent headstone.

'I do know.' My voice was just a whisper. Reaching up, I touched his fingers where they rested against my cheek. 'That's part of the reason why I'm out here.'

He cocked his head, his gaze boring into me. 'I do not understand.'

I gazed into his deep, dark eyes, searching.

No, you don't understand, do you?

But he would, sooner or later.

'M-My Lady?'

Leaning to the side, I peeked around Mr Ambrose to see where the hesitant voice had come from. At the edge of the roof, I saw Mrs. Delaney surrounded by a cluster of other women and a few men. Her eyes flickered uncertainly over me and Mr Ambrose. She had to be feeling the volatile energy crackling in the air between us.

'You. Woman.' Mr Ambrose speared the farmer's wife with a look that could send whole armies into retreat. 'Leave.'

Mrs Delaney didn't move an inch. Quivering slightly, her chin rose into the air. Ignoring Mr Ambrose, she looked at me. 'Are you all right, My Lady?'

'Are you deaf, woman?' Mr Ambrose's voice could have frozen an entire ocean. His eyes flicked between me and Mrs Delaney, and his grip on me tightened. 'I gave you an order!'

'And she ignored it,' I told him with a grin. 'That's called insubordination. Having spent the last two years with me, I thought you'd be familiar with the concept.' Turning to Mrs Delaney, I added, 'It's all right. We're just talking.'

Mrs Delaney didn't look as if she entirely believed me, but nevertheless, she gave a hesitant nod. 'All right, My Lady. I'll be down there if you should need me.'

'Thank you. And let me know the moment the doctor arrives, will you?'

The woman's eyes warmed. 'Definitely. Till later, My Lady.'

'Till later.'

With a curtsy to me and a warning glare to my beloved fiancé, she gestured to her friends and started down the ladder, off the roof.

'What,' Mr Rikkard Ambrose enquired in a tone that made clear he expected an answer, 'was that all about?'

I shrugged. 'I'm working on gaining your tenants' trust.'

'By making them despise me, so you would look better in contrast?'

'No. But now that you mention it, that might be a pretty easy way to go about it.' Raising an eyebrow, I tapped his chest. 'What exactly did you do to these poor people? When I knocked at the door announcing that I was your future wife, I practically had to drag them from underneath their beds, pleading for mercy. If they had beds, that is. Most of them were sleeping on the ground.'

'Very healthy for the backbone, I am reliably informed.'

My eyes narrowed. 'When did you last invest money in your property here?'

'Investments are only necessary when technology requires updating in order to keep ahead of the competition. The way an ox is put in front of a plough has not changed significantly in the last few decades.'

'True. But some of those oxen have probably grown old and died, and these people are still waiting for money to replace them!'

'Miss Linton...I...you...you cannot...' He shifted, his eyes flitting from side to side. What was the matter with him? I had never seen him like this. It was almost as if he...

Slowly, a grin spread over my face. 'Mr Ambrose, Sir! Am I making you feel guilty?'

His back snapped straight as a rod of iron. 'Nothing of the kind!'

'You're not used to being reprimanded, are you? Dear me, this is fun.'

'I must say, I do not share your optimistic view of the situation, Miss Linton.' Tightening his grip on my wrists, he whirled me around and pressed me backwards behind the cottage's chimney, out of sight of the eager crowd probably watching from below. Hard stone pressed into my back, and, it seemed, into my front as well. I was caught between a rock and a hard place—and there wasn't any place I'd rather be. 'If not blackening my reputation, then what exactly are you doing here, Miss Linton?'

If you have to ask, you're not ready for the answer yet.

'The good reverend came by to tell me about how he's been asking you for help on behalf of the villagers.' I blinked up at him, innocently. 'I couldn't believe that you hadn't yet taken care of the matter. So, knowing how much you value your time, I thought I'd do it for you.'

'How gracious of you.' His hands slammed against the brick on either side of me, caging me in. 'And pray tell me, Miss Linton—who is supposed to pay for all the improvements you have initiated?'

'Well...um...'

'I'm waiting, Miss Linton.'

So was I—for a good way to occur to me to tell him that he had a whopping bill coming. No such way was forthcoming, however. So I gave him the only answer I had. Grabbing hold of his face, I pulled him down and kissed him.

'Miss Linton! If you think you can distract me from the issue at hand with such tactics, you are severely—'

My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer against me. A groan rose from the back of his throat.

Ah. It appeared I was severely successful.

'My Lady? My mum was wondering—My Lady!'

The boy's voice tore me abruptly from the hard, muscled heaven inside Mr Rikkard Ambrose's arms. A moment or two later, something collided with Mr Ambrose's back, and little fists started pounding on his back.

'You...blackguard! Rogue! Get your paws off My Lady! Do you hear me! Get off her!'

Mr Ambrose's lips abruptly detached from mine. Our eyes met, and there was a command in his. Do not laugh. Do not dare laugh.

I didn't.

Well, at least not out loud.

Turning slowly, Mr Ambrose reached out, grabbed young Tom by the collar and lifted him in the air until he was on eye level. Always on the lookout for opportunities, like the clever young fellow he was, Tom took this chance to aim a blow at Mr Ambrose's nose. Before his hand had even travelled half the way, Mr Ambrose caught it in mid-air.

He did not, however, catch the kick that came half a second later.

'Ngrrmph!'

'Good one!' I clapped—then realized that might not have been entirely suitable behaviour for a loving fiancée. 'Um...I mean, you're a bad boy, Tommy. A very bad boy.'

'He was kissing you, My Lady! Boys aren't supposed to kiss girls they're not married to. My mum told me that.'

'Did she, now.' Teeth gritted, Mr Ambrose extended his arm until Tommy was dangling out of kicking distance. That didn't mean the plucky little fellow didn't still try, though. You had to admire his persistence. 'And who is your mother, boy?'

'My mother's name is Gwen.' The boy raised his chin defiantly. And his foot, too. But unfortunately for him, it was still out of reach. 'Gwen Delaney.'

'Indeed?'

'Aye! And don't you change the subject! You were kissing Her Ladyship when you weren't supposed to. You aren't married yet, are you?'

'I was inspecting the product,' Mr Ambrose told him, coolly. 'You wouldn't buy a horse without checking its teeth, now, would you?'

That earned him a kick from me.

'Nnng!'

'She's a lady,' Tom pointed out. 'Not a horse.'

I was really starting to like this boy.

'Besides, my mum also told me you shouldn't kiss horses.'

'Did she? I think I'm going to have to have a talk with your mother, boy.'

'You will do no such thing.'

Mr Ambrose blinked.

Then, very, very slowly, his gaze shifted to me. 'Did you just countermand one of my orders, Miss Linton?'

'You can bet on it!' Plucking Tom out of Mr Ambrose's grip, I set him down on the roof and knelt in front of him. 'It's your brothers and sisters who are sick?'

The little boy bit his lower lip. 'Y-yes, My Lady.'

'Don't you worry. They'll be well again soon.'

'I know.' His eyes glowed as he gazed up at me. 'Thanks to you, My Lady. My mum told me! You sent for the doctor, didn't you?'

'Yes. Yes, I did.' I whirled around, just in time to see Mr Rikkard Ambrose open his mouth. 'And don't you dare to ask who'll pay for it!' Turning back to Tom, I raised an eyebrow. 'You came up here to give me a message, I believe?'

The boy straightened. 'Yes, My Lady. My mum sent me up here to tell you that her and the others got together and made supper for you and all the other ladies. We wanted to say thanks after all you've done. But then he—' Tom jabbed an accusing finger at Mr Ambrose '—did you-know-what, and I forgot all about what I was supposed to tell you.'

'How very naughty of him. I'll make sure to make him apologize.'

A strangled noise came from behind me. The kind of strangled noise that indicated the person who was responsible for it very much desired to strangle someone else.

Young Tom nodded earnestly. 'You should, you know. My mum told my sister that when a boy wants to kiss her and she doesn't want to, she should...' Looking around to see if anyone was listening, he took hold of my ear and leaned forward to whisper something so only I could hear. A grin spread over my face.

'I think I'm going to have to get together with your mother. She sounds like a woman after my taste.'

Hope lit the boy's face. 'So...you'll come to supper with us?'

'Definitely. Would you mind if my fiancé comes, too?'

Considering, Tom sized up Mr Rikkard Ambrose. 'I suppose not. If he behaves himself.'

'Don't worry. I'll make sure of it. Why don't you run ahead and let your mother know to set an extra space at the table?'

'Err...we don't have a table, My Lady. Not one that's big enough, leastways.'

'An extra place at the picnic blanket, then.'

'Yes, My Lady! Certainly, My Lady!'

Beaming, the boy scampered to the edge of the roof and started down the ladder. Mr Rikkard Ambrose turned towards me, his dark eyes swirling.

'You cannot be serious, Miss Linton!'

'Why not, pray, Sir?'

'You wish to sit picnicking with a bunch of rustics while Lord Dalgliesh is trying to blackmail you and concocting God-only-knows-what other plots against us?'

I shrugged. 'I won't be alone down there. I'll be well-protected.'

He stepped towards me, his eyes not dropping from my face for an instant. 'Karim is a capable bodyguard. But he is not perfect.'

'I wasn't thinking of Karim. How's your shin feeling, Sir?' I fluttered my eyelashes. 'Still aching?'

'You...!'

Mr Ambrose started towards me—when Tom's voice drifted over the edge of the roof. 'Are you coming, My Lady?'

'That boy,' Mr Ambrose ground out between clenched teeth, 'is enervating!'

'Don't like children, do you, Sir?' One corner of my mouth curled up as I reached up to touch his face. 'I wonder...does that apply just to this particular rugrat, or all children in general? Because that would be...unfortunate.'

I had the distinct privilege of witnessing a rare phenomenon right then and there: Mr Rikkard Ambrose, slack-jawed and lost for words. Rising on my tiptoes, I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and felt him tremble beneath my touch.

'I'll be waiting down in the meadow. Don't keep me waiting for too long.'

And, slipping past him, I sidled to the ladder and started downwards.

A few minutes later, I was sitting on a chequered blanket, food and drink of all kinds spread out all around me, surrounded by happy, smiling, faces. Well, except for one.

'Smile!' I told Mr Ambrose out of the corner of my mouth.

'I see no reason for exciting my facial musculature, Miss Linton. Dalgliesh—'

'Forget Dalgliesh!'

He opened his mouth to protest, and I took the opportunity to stick a piece of cake into it. Benson had been very helpful in supplementing the villagers' supplies, and they'd whipped up quite a feast.

'Nnng!' Mr Ambrose said. 'Mmm mm gmm!'

'That's right! You know, I think that's the first time I completely agree with something you've said.'

Swallowing hard, Mr Ambrose reached out and took hold of my face, drawing me close. He did not look amused.

'Do you think this is a joke, Miss Linton? After the encounters with Dalgliesh we've had in the last few years, I thought you'd know better!'

Out of the corner of my eyes, I glanced around. People were beginning to stare our way. We didn't exactly behave like the proper, well-behaved, engaged English couple. Gazing up into Mr Ambrose's deep, dark eyes, I let every hint of mirth drain from my face, showing him what was deep inside. Love. Determination. And just a tiny little bit of fear.

'I do know better, trust me. But right now, is there anything we can actually do? We don't know what he's up to or where he is. But we know where he'll be. After all, I have a meeting with him scheduled, don't I?'

He studied my face closely, and something in his eyes flashed. 'You...you already have a plan.'

'Certainly.' My fingers reached up to clench into his lapels and pull him down towards me. 'If you think I'd kowtow to that tyrant, Sir, or underestimate him, you are gravely mistaken. I won't let anything or anyone get in the way of this wedding. Right now, our biggest advantage is that Dalgliesh doesn't know there are no secrets between us. So, for now, let's pretend everything is fine, and have some fun.' I smiled. 'Or just pretend everything is adequate, in your case.'

His fingers touched my cheek. 'Some things in my life are more than adequate.'

Warmth flooded my insides. He said I was more than adequate! More than adequate! Can any girl imagine a greater compliment?

Well...probably yes, but that wasn't the point.

'So...' Selecting a cherry from its basket, Mr Ambrose lifted it to my lips. I took a tentative bite and licked the juice from my lips. 'What's on your agenda, Miss Linton?''

'For now, we'll just sit and wait. Let's pretend everything is going according to Dalgliesh's plan. As for what happens next...' Smiling, I took his hand. 'Let's just say I won't be content to sit on my derrière for long.'

My eyes swept from Mr Ambrose, over Ella, Adaira, Amy, all my other old friends and my new ones, too—Benson, Tom, Mrs Delaney... People were laughing, sharing food and drink, and...they looked happy. They looked at home. My home.

I had a home. A real home, with the man I loved.

'Neither,' Mr Ambrose told me, taking hold of my other hand, 'am I.'

My eyes held his for a moment—then flicked to the spires of the church where I had last seen His Lordship.

You want to come for us, Dalgliesh? You want to try and take all this away from us? Come and try! I'll be ready! And by the looks of it, I won't be alone.

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My dear Lords Ladies and Gentlemen,

Drumroll...

Remember I told you there was going to be a spin-off of the "Storm and Silence" series? Want to know more? Well, here it is! I hereby proudly proclaim that the title of the Storm and Silence Spin-Off that I shall be writing after this book is...

Lord Day and Lady Night!

Any guess who might be the heroine of that particular story? ;)

You can already find the story on my Radish profile and subscribe to it, so you'll know the moment it starts! More info such as cover & blurb coming soon!

Yours Truly

Sir Rob