Page 52 of Storm of Bells
I threw him a suspicious look. ‘Youhave?’
‘Indeed.’
All that one word did was make me morecurious. There was something he wasn’t telling me.
Well…therealwayswas something hewasn’t telling me. About ninety percent of the normal conversationone would have with any other person. But this time, it was morethan that.
‘What are you hiding, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’
‘Hiding? Me?’ He gave me a look that…well…,it wasn’t exactly innocent. Granite was neither innocent norguilty. It just didn’t give a fig. ‘Whatever are you talking about,Miss Linton?’
‘Hm.’
I gazed at him through narrowed eyes. I stillwas pretty sure he wasn’t being entirely open. A manor house, ownedby Rikkard Ambrose? What was wrong with the place? Was it fallingapart? Did he have an insane ex-ladyfriend hidden in the attic?Well…maybe. If she paid enough rent.
My mind conjured up images of a hauntinglybeautiful Gothic ruin, perhaps with some secret passages and anunderground dungeon where Mr Ambrose held prisoner all those whohad dared to try and cross him, or ask him for charitablecontributions. Or maybe there was a deep, dark cave undergroundwhere he hoarded all his money and occasionally rolled around init, calling out ‘Mine! Mine! All mine, mwahahaha!’
Yet in spite of my sinister imaginings…I justcouldn’t resist. The moment I had heard the words ‘my house’, I wasovertaken by a burning desire.
I had to see it!
And why not? Soon, it won’t be just hishouse. It will be ours.
Our home.
The heady thought made my knees want tobuckle.
‘Well?’ Cocking his head at me, Mr Ambrosegave me a challenging look. ‘What do you say, Miss Linton?’
I met his gaze head-on. ‘I say let’s go!’
When, a few moments later, Mr Ambrose and Istepped back into the drawing room, everyone’s eyes zeroed in onus. Adaira’s eyes found our joined hands, and a broad smile spreadover her face.
‘Wipe that smirk off your face,’ Mr Ambroseordered.
‘Sorry. I’ve never been good at cleaning.So…has she talked you around?’
‘No woman could sway me!’
‘No, of course not.’ Adaira’s eyes weredancing.
‘We have, however, reached an acceptablecompromise.’
In quick, precise words he explained ourplan. Ella eyed him suspiciously. ‘And this place you’re talkingabout, this manor, it has a church? A real church, with an altar,and pews, an organ and everything?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the house is big enough for all theguests?’
‘More than big enough. It’s larger thanBattlewood.’
My head whipped around to stare at him.Larger than Battlewood? What kind of monstrously majestic place wasthis? And how, in the name of everything expensive, had Mr Ambroseever brought himself to part with enough money to buy it? Mostimportantly, why would he? Something smelled fishy here.
Lady Samantha, however, didn’t seem to smellany salmon or sharks. She was beaming, looking so proud and happy Icouldn’t bring myself to say a word.
‘Can weleave tomorrow?’ she demanded, eagerness gleaming in her eyes. Shethrew a glance at my hand, and I got the distinct impression that,if she’d had a wedding ring with her, she would have jammed oneonto my ring finger right then and there. ‘Or maybe today? I’m sureI can get a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury, andyou two can be married in just—’[12]
‘No.’
