Page 172 of Storm of Bells
‘Don’t do this, Rick!’ Lady Samantha wasdoing an impressive job of catching up with a coach drawn bygalloping horses. ‘Don’t break your mother’s heart!’
‘Get the horses to move faster!’ Mr Ambroseordered as he pulled me into the carriage. ‘And you, Miss Linton,stop laughing like a maniac!’
‘S-sorry! I d-don’t think that’s p-possible,Sir!’ Gasping, I curled up on the floor of the coach. Somewhereabove me, Karim shouted encouragement to the horses.
‘Gee-up!’
‘Don’t, son! We’ve already put up all thegarlands in the church and the guests are ready and waiting! Rick!Don’t do this!’
Unable to stop myself from grinning like afool, I leaned out of the window and waved to Lady Samantha. ‘Don’tworry! We’ll be back from Gretna Green soon!’
‘Gretna—!’ A hand grabbed me by the back ofthe neck and pulled me rather forcefully back into the inside ofthe carriage. Two cold, sea-coloured eyes met mine. ‘Correct me ifI’m wrong, Miss Linton, but isn’t Gretna Green a certain town inScotland where couples who plan to elope without the consent oftheir parents routinely travel to get married?’
I batted my eyelashes up at him. ‘Why,indeed, I believe it is, Sir.’
‘You, Miss Linton, are the most deviousperson I have ever met in my life.’
Patting his arm, I beamed up at him. ‘Knowingyour little sister, I take that as the highest of compliments.’
After that, we drove along in silence. Karimkept the coach-horses at a dead run, and not in a metaphoricalmanner. If he kept this up, they would drop dead sooner or later.The pounding of the hooves and the rattling of the wheels combinedmade such a racket that my eardrums almost exploded, andconversation was completely impossible. I didn’t try, in any case.Right now, I was far too concerned with my own thoughts. Spread infront of me lay the items I had pilfered from Lord Dalgliesh’spockets. Could they provide some clues?
Let’s see…
The keys. The snuffbox. The wallet. A goldenpin. A handkerchief with the monogrammed initials L.D.H.D…
L.D.H.D?
What kind of person had histitlestitched into a monogrammed handkerchief?
An utterly pretentious arsehead, that’swho.
Speaking of arseheads…
‘By the way,’ I glanced up at Mr Ambrose.‘Was what Dalgliesh said true? Did you…did you really leave yourfamily when they lost everything?’
Mr Ambrose flinched, and his figurestiffened, turning into a granite statue from one moment to thenext. His only answer was silence.
‘Please.’ Swallowing, I leaned forward andplaced a hand on his knee. ‘Tell me. Is it true?’
His Adam’s apple moved. ‘Yes and no.’
Holy…!That man. Even when giving ananswer, he somehow managed to say nothing.
‘Please.’ I gave his knee a gentle squeeze.‘Tell me what happened.’
That familiar muscle in his cheek twitched.And twitched again.
‘I was so happy.’ His voice was hardlyrecognizable. No longer smooth, cold and arrogant, it soundedscratchy, almost as if he was…near to tears? ‘So happy. My bestfriend, the great Lord Dalgliesh…he was like an older brother tome, no, an idol. When he told me he’d help me, help my family, Ithought my prayers had been answered. I strutted all through thecountryside, telling everyone how I had the best friend in theworld. I even went on a tour to the South, convinced my family’stroubles were over. And then, when one day I came back…’
There was a pause, long, black and empty.
‘There were carriages in front of my home. Atfirst I thought my father was holding a ball, but then I got closerand found that they weren’t carriages, they were wagons. There weremen carrying away all the antique furniture and paintings. Somewere even carrying whole suits of armour or a piano. At first, Ididn’t understand what was going on. Were we moving? Had my motherdecided to redecorate? But something didn’t feel right. I rushedinside, and…and…’
Another pause. When he spoke again, his voicehad regained its strength and was as cold and hard as I’d everheard it.
‘They were removal men, of course.Dalgliesh’s “help”, the so-called “investments”, had been nothingbut a scam. An excellently devised scam, but still a scam. When Iran inside, I found my father shouting at the removal men that hewas a lord, and they were nothing but vermin and that he’d see toit that they would rot in prison for what they were doing. Then hespotted me.’
A muscle in his cheek twitched.
