‘What is it, Mr Linton?’ Mr Ambrose mumbled.
‘Err…’ I blinked in the morning sunlight flooding in through the open window. ‘That wasn’t me. I didn’t say anything.’
‘What?’
Knock, knock, knock.
Both our heads snapped around to the door, where the sound was coming from. ‘Sir?’ called a female voice from outside. ‘The marchioness thought you would be exhausted after a day like yesterday. She asked me to bring you breakfast in bed. May I come in?’
‘No!’ Mr Ambrose barked. Swiftly, he threw a blanket over me and shoved me off the bed. I landed on the thick carpet with a thud.
‘Oomph!’
‘Sir?’ The voice from outside sounded worried now. ‘What was that noise?’
‘Nothing,’ Mr Ambrose stated, as cool as a cucumber, and shoved me under the bed. ‘Absolutely nothing.’
Thank you so much for the compliment!
‘May I come in now, Sir?’
‘Yes, you may. What is for breakfast?’
From inside my white cocoon, I heard footsteps enter the room. Then followed a scrape, as if from the lid of a breakfast tray being lifted. ‘Bacon, eggs, kippers, sausage, baked beans, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, black pudding, toast and pork chops, Sir.’
‘I see. And for whom did the marchioness intend that breakfast, me, or a starved regiment of the British Army?’
‘I believe Her Ladyship’s exact words were “He’s a growing boy and needs to eat”, Sir.’
‘Indeed?’
‘
Yes, Sir.’
‘Tell the marchioness that I ravenously devoured every single morsel. You’re dismissed.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
I waited with bated breath until the door had slid shut with a click, and I heard footsteps receding down the corridor. I waited, and waited - then they were gone. Finally! Struggling free of the blanket, I stuck my head out from under the bed and gazed up at Mr Ambrose, who was just busy buttering a small piece of toast.
‘You know,’ I panted, ‘now that we finally agree on my gender, I think it’s time we work on your gentlemanly behaviour towards ladies.’
He placed a slice of kipper on his toast. ‘Indeed?’
‘Oh yes, indeed, Sir!’
I didn’t have a chance to instruct him, however - because, at that very moment, I heard a noise through the connecting door. And not just any kind of noise: a knock. Apparently, Mr Ambrose wasn’t the only one who the marchioness thought deserved a breakfast in bed this morning. Crap!
Jumping to my feet, I nearly fell flat on my nose because I’d forgotten my feet were still wrapped in the sheet. Struggling and cursing, I hopped to the connecting door and pulled it open.
‘Um…is something the matter, Sir?’ came the hesitant voice of a maid from outside.
‘Nothing! Nothing whatsoever! Wait just a minute, I’m… I’m…well, just wait!’
‘Certainly, Sir.’
I struggled free of the sheet and hurled it behind a screen in the corner. Slipping into bed, I pulled up the blanket far enough to cover the fact that I was still wearing yesterday’s clothes.