Page 159 of Storm of Bells
‘Ah.’
‘Besides…’ He cocked his head and lookedstraight at me. Straight into my eyes. Something which, I realized,I had never really seen him do. Oh, he’d glance at me or my auntevery now and then, to check whether his barked command had sent usscurrying out of the room or if we needed additionaldiscouragement. But look at a female, directly? Ha! Not ever.
Now he looked, though. He looked straight atme. At an equal.
‘Besides…it wouldn’t fit. You’re not the kindof girl to sit around idly and let a man take care of things.’
I felt warmth swell in my heart. ‘Well…you’reright. It has nothing to do with a man.’Unless you count MrVictor Linton. ‘I’ve found…other means of acquiring funds. Butthose means… Things haven’t gone quite as expected.’ My expressiondarkened. ‘There are a few people who aren’t particularly fond ofme, and one of them…’
I let my voice trail off. I had already saidtoo much.
Uncle Bufford’s eyebrows abruptly drewtogether until they formed one single continuous line across hisforehead. A line you could have hidden a badger in.
‘Are you in trouble, girl?’
It was worse than I’d thought. I didn’t justlike Uncle Bufford.Helikedme. And hecaredabout me!
Oh crap.
I swallowed. ‘Yes.’
‘What?’ His eyes flicked down to my bellyregion. ‘You—!’
‘Notthatkind of trouble, Uncle!’
‘Hm. Well…’ He glanced down at the gun in hishand. ‘I suppose you wouldn’t need bullets for such a matter.’
There was a long moment of silence.
‘Uncle?’
‘Yes, girl?’
‘Time is of the essence. I need to go.’
He held my gaze for a second. No more, noless.
‘You can handle this on your own?’
‘Yes,’ I lied.
‘Hm. Well…then you’ll need this.’
With an entirely too well-practised move, heflipped the revolver around and handed it to me grip-first. Istared at him.
‘What are you waiting for, girl? Takeit!’
Dazed, I did as he said. My hand closedaround the butt of the gun—and swift as a flash, his gnarled oldfingers captured mine, holding me in place.
‘I’ll be expecting you tomorrow at ten a.m.sharp for a short walk down a certain aisle. Don’t you dare getyourself killed.’
One corner of my mouth curled up. ‘Ipromise.’
I only hoped that was a promise I was goingto be able to keep. Giving my uncle a last nod, I turned and,pushing open the door, headed out into the open. It was a beautifulday outside. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and theworms were wriggling in the ground. Except for one particularlynasty worm, that is. My gaze drifted over to the spire of thechurch, high above the village.
Well, Lilly…Aunt Brank always said youshould go to church more often. Here’s your chance.
Sliding the revolver back into my dress, Iset out down the road towards the village. Getting to the churchwas quite a bit harder than I had imagined. Back in London, nobodyever gave me a second glance. But here… Men in the fields bowed andwaved their hats as I passed. Women rushed out of their cottages tooffer me drinks, snacks and more curtsies than could be good fortheir knee joints. I only got away by agreeing to come to lunch. Attwelve different cottages. On the same day. Apparently, I wouldhave to add astral body projection to my rapidly growing list oftalents.
