Storm and Silence

Storm and Silence Page 122

‘Mr Linton?’

I looked up from the files I was sorting to see Mr Stone at the door of my office. He had a nervous look on his face, but since he looked nervous pretty much all the time, I didn’t pay too much attention to that.

‘Yes, Mr Stone? I know it’s almost closing time. I’m just putting these away and then I’ll be right out.’

‘I know, I know. That’s not why I’m here, Mr Linton. Mr Ambrose sent me to tell you that he has ordered a carriage and is awaiting you downstairs. He says the two of you are going to a special appointment this late in the day?’

My face brightened. ‘Yes, that’s right. I’ll be on my way down right away.’

‘Good. Good.’

Mr Stone didn’t leave, but hovered in the doorway. I continued putting the files away. When I was closing the box and he still hadn’t moved, I asked: ‘Is something else the matter, Mr Stone?’

‘How kind of you to ask, Mr Linton, very kind of you. Yes, there is something, indeed. I wanted to ask… did you notice anything odd about Mr Ambrose lately?’

‘Odd?’

‘Yes. I couldn’t help notice he has been behaving a bit… strangely. I thought you might have noticed it, too.’

‘Can’t say I have. In my opinion, he has been behaving like a perfectly amiable gentleman recently.’

Mr Stone cleared his throat. ‘Um… well… that is kind of what I meant by “strange”.’ His ears reddened, and I had to fight to conceal a smile.

‘Don’t worry, Mr Stone. I’m sure he’s perfectly fine.’

‘Good, good. That’s very good to hear. You’ve put my mind at rest, Mr Linton, thank you.’

With a quick bow of his head he hurried out of the room, and I left after him, crossing the hallway and starting down the stairs.

It was true, for Mr Ambrose, being well-mannered and smiling was strange. But good manners hadn’t hurt anybody - except for me getting arrested that time because I curtsied. So why not rejoice at the change? Some small part of me was beginning to hope that maybe, just maybe, I was the reason for the improvement. Maybe I had managed to get under his granite-hard skin. The thought made me feel hot and fiery inside for some reason.

‘Ah, there you are,’ Mr Ambrose greeted me when I pushed open the doors of Empire House. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, smiling at me. A coach stood behind him - not a cab or a chaise, but a large and maybe even luxurious carriage such as many of the wealthy gentlemen of the city used to get around. I blinked in confusion. Again I got the uncanny feeling that something was going on here which I didn’t understand. Mr Ambrose couldn’t just have turned so nice by accident, could he?

‘I have been eagerly awaiting your arrival,’ he told me with a small bow of his head as I came down the stairs, my steps cautious, as if approaching an unknown wild animal.

‘I’m sorry, Sir, if I took too long. I had a few files to put away and…’

‘Don’t apologize, don't apologize. After today, all these petty matters of business won’t seem like much to you, I assure you.’

What did he mean by that? That the rest of my employment would be one continuous tea party?

My bewilderment grew as he opened the door and gestured for me to get in.

‘Since when do gentlemen open doors for other gentlemen?’ I asked archly, gesturing to my male attire.

‘They do not, in general. But soon enough the perspective on what you are might shift.’

His words left me reeling. Did he mean what I thought he meant? Was he really considering to accept me as a female employee, dress and all? I hardly managed to get into the coach, my head was so full of questions. Why this sudden turnaround? How was it possible? Why now? The day before yesterday he had still been adamant about getting rid of me, adamant that I should not be involved in the investigation of the theft because this matter was too dangerous for a lady. And now… Had he changed his mind?

Somehow though, although his words seemed to indicate a change of mind, the tone made me hesitant to rejoice. There was something behind the words, some dark intent not yet revealed, that made me shiver.

Nonsense! Shaking my head, I settled down at the right window of the coach, facing the horses. You’re imagining things! Stop and enjoy the moment!

Mr Ambrose took the seat beside me and tapped the roof of the carriage with his cane.

‘You know our destination, driver. Go!’

Without a word in reply the coach started to move.

We drove in silence. There were many things I wanted to say - questions I wanted to ask, thanks I wanted to give - but something held me back. He for his part was still smiling the same brilliant smile he had worn all day yesterday and today. For the first time I had leisure to study his smile in more detail and was surprised by what I found. It somehow looked… unnatural.

I remembered the small quarter-smile he had once deigned to give me, long ago. That had seemed much more natural, much more himself. This iridescent show of teeth… If you studied it long enough it put you in mind of the smile a drowning man might see in the ocean, topped by a dorsal fin and approaching fast and hungrily.

Oh, don’t be such an old worrywart! You should have a more optimistic outlook on the future!

To distract myself I looked out of the window - and jerked upright in my seat! We were going down Oxford Street, the street that led away from Leadenhall Street in a westerly direction. The direction of Hyde Park.

This had to be a strange coincidence. Surely, we would soon turn away to the left or to the right, to wherever this mysterious appointment of Mr Ambrose’s was.

No, we didn’t. Instead we kept going straight down Oxford Street. I was no longer lost in thought. I was hanging out of the window, gripping my uncle’s old top hat with both hands to prevent it from being blown off by the wind.

‘Something interesting to see, Mr Linton?’ Mr Ambrose’s voice came from within the coach. I didn’t reply. There were indeed a great many things to be seen: the closer we got to Hyde Park, the more people were milling in the streets. Apparently they were heading towards the park. A great event seemed about to take place.

He calls you Mister again. Something is happening here.

Over the heads of the crowd, I could see the black iron of Cumberland Gate in the distance. The gate stood wide open, and loud voices drifted from the Park in our direction.