'Adaira!' Slipping between Ella and Eve, I raced towards the newcomer, pulled her past Leadfield into the room, and threw my arms around her. 'Come here, you! I've missed you so much!'
'I've missed you, too! And I've worried sick, you know.' Putting on a faux concerned expression, she put a hand onto my forehead. 'I've heard the most worrying rumours about your mental condition. People are saying that you've lost your mind and agreed to marry my brother!'
'Very funny,' Mr Ambrose said from somewhere behind me, ice dripping from his voice. 'Very funny indeed.'
Adaira beamed at him. 'You've acquired a sense of humour? Well, well, wonders never cease. So, Lilly, tell me, what fit of madness made you want to shackle yourself to that grumpy block of granite?'
'Who, may I ask,' Ella enquired, stepping forward with a big smile on her face, 'is that lady with the impeccable taste in men?
Adaira jerked her head towards Mr Ambrose, the way you'd gesture towards a stubborn cart horse. 'I'm his sister.'
'Oh.' Ella patted her shoulder. 'Don't worry. I won't hold it against you.'
'That's so nice of you. I don't often meet people who are so generous when it comes to my faults.'
'Are you two quite finished?' Stepping forward, Mr Ambrose regarded the two of them with an icy gaze which they completely and cheerfully ignored. 'Perhaps we could return to the subject at hand?'
'Which is?' Adaira raised an eyebrow. 'I heard you all arguing, but I have no idea what it was about.'
Ella sniffed. 'I showed your dear brother the plans for the wedding he's supposed to pay for, and heâ'
Adaira held up a hand. 'Say no more.' Her eyes, at other times so warm and sweet, hardened as they focused on Mr Ambrose. 'Rick?'
'Yes?'
'Perhaps we should have a little talk. Just the two of us.'
'I don't think that will be necessary. Iâ'
'Oh, but I do.' Cracking her knuckles, Adaira grasped him by the tails of his coat.
'Hey! That coat is only ten years old and still in mint condition!'
'Then you had better come along before it tears now, hadn't you?' She told him sweetly as she towed him towards the nearest door. 'Move your butt, brother!'
'You are utterly overreacting. I was only pursuing a sensible, spendthrift policy of budget-reduction in regard toâ'
The door closed behind them with a thud.
Eve and Ella exchanged a look. 'What now?'
Grinning, I settled in the chair closest to the door. 'Now we have fun listening at the keyhole.'
'Lill! That would be against all rules of propriety, andâ'
A crash came from behind the door, followed by a lady's impressively raised voice, half audible even through the thick wood.
'Then again, maybe we won't need the keyhole after all,' I added cheerfully.
Eve and Ella exchanged another lookâthen hurriedly scampered over to join me beside the door. We were just about to begin Mission Eavesdrop, when the front door swung open once again, revealing the slender figure of an older lady in a pale blue dress that perfectly matched her kind eyes.
'Miss Linton!'
'Lady Samantha!'
Jumping up, I rushed towards her. I was about to curtsy, but instead, she gently took hold of me and enfolded me in a hug.
'Oh, fiddlesticks! Forget about those formalities, my dear. After all, we will be family soon.' She laughed, her eyes shining. 'Family! I can hardly believe it. My little Rick is getting married!' Her gaze settled on me. 'And he couldn't have chosen a better woman.'
I felt a tug on my heart. 'You really mean that?'
'Of course I do! When the two of you left Battlewood without him proposing to you last year, I was devastated!'
Oh. Should I tell her that he actually did propose to me back then, and that, at the time, I turned him down? More than once?
Probably not.
'I was so crushed when I thought nothing would come of the two of you. But then I got a telegram from him, and, and....' She burst out in gleeful giggles, unable to contain her motherly joy.
'He actually sent you a telegram?' I raised my eyebrows. 'Don't those cost a fortune for every sentence?'
'Yes, he did! I have it here!'
Digging into her purse, she pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. It didn't look as if it had been treated like a telegram, but rather, like a missive announcing blessings from heaven. Cautiously unfolding it, she held it out to me. I looked down, and read:
R.A. wed L.L.
I nodded approvingly. That was my man. Why bother with such useless frivolities as the future progressive tense? Grammar is such a bother anyway. And why use 'marry' when 'wed' has two whole letters less?
Carefully re-folding the telegram, Lady Samantha pressed it to her heart. 'You can't know what it meant to me when I received that!'
I grinned. 'The dreamy look in your eyes is giving me a hint or two.'
'I'm so happy to know you'll be family, dear. So happy! Our family is going to be a much happier, more peaceful place with you in it.'
Just then, the crash of a vase came from behind a certain nearby door, followed by a male yelp.
'What was that? Lady Samantha enquired.
'Err...oh, nothing.' Hurriedly, Ella stepped in her way. 'Spring cleaning.'
'Ah. And who is this lovely young lady?'
'Lady Samantha, may I introduce my little sister Ella? Ella, this is Lady Samantha Genevieve Ambrose, Marchioness Ambrose.'
Ella, bless her, sank into a perfect little curtsy. 'It's a pleasure, Your Ladyship.'
'And this is Eve, Your Ladyship.'
'Marchioness.' Eve, too, curtsied deep enough for her crinoline to brush the ground. 'Such an honour.'
'Oh no, please!' Beaming, the Marchioness pulled them up and pulled them into a hug, too. 'It is my pleasure to meet any friend or relation of dear Miss Linton. I'm so overjoyed, I just can't be bothered with formalities on a day like this. But tell me...where is my boy?'
Another crash came from beyond the nearby door. Quickly, Ella and Eve stepped closer together, blocking the way. 'Err...he's just revising his plans regarding some wedding preparations. I think someone brought up some valid points that led him to change his opinion in regard to certain aspects.'
Concern clouded Lady Samantha's happy face. 'You mean you haven't settled on a venue yet?'
Crash!
'The matter is being discussed as we speak.' Eve's face lit up. 'Why don't we have the wedding at your estate, Your Ladyship? What is it called again? Battlewood? I'm sure that would be more than appropriate. From all I've heard of the place, you have more than enough space.'
The clouds of sadness on the Marchioness's face darkened. It tugged at my heart. 'We have, but...'
She trailed off, biting her lip.
'His father?' I enquired gently.
She nodded.
Ella and Eve exchanged looks. 'What about his father?'
'He doesn't approve of me,' I sighed. By the way her ladyship winced, I could tell my guess was spot-on.
'He's not a bad man,' she pleaded, taking my hand. 'He's just...set in his ways. It can be difficult to make him see that not everything can happen exactly the way he wants it to.'
A corner of my mouth curled up, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly. 'Hm...now why does that sound familiar?'
She returned my smile. 'I don't know. Maybe you know someone like that?'
'Hm. Yes, it does sound a little bit reminiscent of someone I'm familiar with.'
A dull thump came from behind the connecting door, followed by a growl, and then footsteps.
'And I think he's just finished with his discussion. Girls?'
On my command, they stepped aside, making room. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing an exhausted-looking Adaira.
'I give up,' she panted, slumping against the doorframe. 'Lilly, if you truly want to marry that bone-headed cheapskate, you have my sincerest condolences! Is there anything that can make that man part with money?'
'Err...more money?'
'Other than that!'
'Not to my knowledge, no.'
'Did you try everything?' Ella demanded. 'Did youâ'
'Everything! I tried everything! I even threatened to show his baby pictures to everyone I know!'
Eve paled. 'You didn't!'
'I did! We have that adorable little miniature of him, where he's just two years old, and just in the process of...well, you'd have to see it to believe it.'
I winced. 'Remind me to never get on your bad side.'
'Ha! As if it accomplished anything! I failed!'
'You simply seem to be labouring under some delusions that I do not share,' came a cool voice from behind her. 'Such as the idea that a wedding has to happen in a church, or must include food, and more than two guests.'
Whirling around, she stabbed a finger at her dear brother. 'And I suppose you'd rather do it without the vicar, too, would you?'
'You think that would be possible?' He sounded intrigued. 'How?'
'Aargh! You...you...!'
'Penny-pincher? Slimy little weasel?' Ella suggested.
'Thank you! Exactly!'
Just then, the slimy weasel of a penny pincher stepped through the doorway, looking as stony, cold and untouchable as I had ever seen him. He gave a curt nod in Lady Samantha's direction.
'Ah. Mother.' He nodded stiffly. 'I see you have arriâ'
'Oh, Ricky!' Rushing forward, the Marchioness hurled her arms around her son. Well, halfway around. That was as far as her little arms could reach. 'I'm so, so happy for you! I can't even say...oh...'
'Mother!' He stiffened as if covered in concrete and left out to dry. 'Control yourself!'
'I don't bloody want to! You're going to be married and be happy and...and...I'm just so happy for you! I...I...'
'...have to excrete ocular fluids? Cease it at once! I will not have my tailcoat stained.'
'You...you...!' She was crying and laughing at the same time, and Mr Ambrose just stood there like a pillar of granite, unmoving, unmovedâuntil his eyes met mine.
In those eyes, I saw a sea-coloured storm swirling, betraying what was really going on deep inside.
I smiled and nudged him.
Slowly, very slowly, he raised his arms and put them around his mother, his left little finger twitching all the while. He moved so hesitantly, you might have thought she was a bomb, about to go off any moment.
Squeeze, I mouthed. Gently.
He narrowed his eyes infinitesimally. I could read the words in his eyes as clearly as if they had been printed on his forehead. I. Do. Not. Hug.
I cocked my head. You do with me. Go on.
That muscle in his jaw twitched onceâthen, he carefully squeezed. His mother broke out into a whole new round of joyful sobs, while Adaira stood by, watching with a mixture of incredulity, glee and awe. Reaching over towards me, she squeezed my hand.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
I cocked my head innocently. 'For what? I didn't do anything.'
She smirked and squeezed my hand again.
It took a moment or two, but finally, the Marchioness managed to collect herself enough to stop excreting ocular fluids, and untangled herself from Mr Ambrose's arms.
'Th-thank you,' she muttered.
He cocked his head, his face expressionless as ever. 'For what? I was merely greeting you.'
Ella and Eve gave me a look. Behind me, Adaira uttered a groan. 'Good God. The two of you really are meant for each other. You poor girl.'
Her mother heard that. 'Well, of course they are! What did you think?'
Adaira shrugged, smirking unapologetically. 'I was still holding out hope she'd come to her senses.'
'Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose! I will thank you to keep such comments to yourself. Go and see to it that our luggage is brought inside!'
Her smirk widening, Adaira sauntered out of the room. Lady Samantha turned to me, and snatched my hands, as if afraid I'd run off any minute.
'Don't let her talk bother you, my dear. You couldn't find a better, stronger, um...kinder err...more considerate man than my son. Not particularly quickly, anyway.'
'Thank you for that ringing endorsement, mother,' came Mr Ambrose's cool voice from somewhere behind her.
'Don't you take that tone with me, boy!' Turning around, she put her hands on her hips. 'Now what is this nonsense about you not having a venue you for the wedding?'
'We do.'
She blinked. 'You do?'
'Yes.'
Then he told her. Lady Samantha's face went white as a ghost, then red, then slightly green.
'Rikkard Ambrose! You cannot seriously intend toâ'
'I do.'
'But...but...this is your wedding!'
'For some reason, everyone seems to feel the need to repeat that fact to me. I'm well aware of it, mother.'
'But Rikkard...the East End...!'
'Its vicars have impressively acceptable fees.'
'So do its thieves and murderers!'
'A minor detraction.'
Desperation in her eyes, Lady Samantha whirled around, wringing her hands. Pleading baby-blue eyes went from one of us to the next.
'Please! Can't any of you do anything?'
Ella shook her head dejectedly. 'I already tried.'
Lady Samantha's pleading gaze landed on Eve. My friend gave her an apologetic smile. 'I think I know better by now.'
And then, it came. Crap. I had known this was going to happen.
Lady Samantha's big, blue, motherly eyes landed on me.
Crap, crap, crap!
'Lilly...we can't...you can't...'
A big double load of stinking crap! This was unfair! I had been so determined to lean back and enjoy the wedding chaos from afar. I honestly didn't care one way or the other. We could get married by a rooster on the roof of a hay barn, and I would be deliriously happy. But that look in Lady Samantha's eyes... It made me want things. Things I hadn't even known I wanted. In her motherly eyes, I saw hopes reflected, images of white dresses, and pretty flowers, cheering friends and family...
Crap.
There was no way around it, was there?
'All right.' Patting Lady Samantha on the shoulder, I stepped past her. 'Don't you worry, Your Ladyship. I know someone who can take care of this.'
'Y-you do?'
'Yes?' Lips curling into a smile, I marched towards Mr Ambrose and took a firm hold of his arm. 'Me.'
And with that, I pulled the startled business magnate through the connecting door, and kicked it shut behind us.
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My dear Lords and Ladies,
First of all, thank you for all the fabulous feedback last time! It has definitely helped me choose a great direction for my next series!
And now...time for the great showdown! Ambrose's stingyness VS Lilly's determination. Which will win? ;)
Yours Truly
Sir Rob