At that, the eyes of the harpies practically started glowing. They fastened on Mr Ambrose with ravenous intent.
Mr Ambrose wasn’t fazed. Cold eyes reviewed the collection of ladies arrayed before him. They went from one to the next and the next - until they reached me, and swept over me as if I didn’t even exist. Budding hope that I hadn’t even realised had begun to rise inside me was crushed under a mountain of ice.
What did you expect, Lilly? You turned the man down! Did you think he was going to ask you to dance after that? For what? Being turned down again?
As if he were reading my thoughts, Mr Ambrose’s gaze suddenly snapped to me, and our eyes met.
Would I? Would I turn him down? For a marriage, yes, but for a dance? I suddenly realised that I wouldn’t. I would happily spend a dance or two in Mr Ambrose’s arms - even if it only was for the chance of stomping around on his feet a little.
Our eyes met again, and a shiver raced down my spine.
What is he thinking? What is going on in that granite head of his?
‘By the way…’ Lady Samantha’s voice interrupted our duel of eyes. Everyone looked over to her.
‘Yes, mother?’
‘Elsby has informed me that a large number of…unconventional guests have invaded the servant’s quarters.’ She glanced at me - or rather, as I realised a moment later, behind me. I half-turned and saw four of the men who had been in my rescue party standing there in ill-fitting servants’ livery. ‘May I ask the reason for this?’
Once again, Mr Ambrose’s cold, sea-colored eyes flicked to me. ‘A…package needed delivering.’
Package? Package?
‘Dozens of men for one single package?’
‘It was a very important package.’
Well, thank you so much! Now I feel much better.
‘And now that the delivery has been accomplished, will they leave?’
‘Not just yet. They will accompany us on our way back south after Christmas is passed. One can never be too careful. The highway can be a dangerous place.’
Lady Samantha hesitated - then nodded. ‘Very well. You are right. Your…friends are welcome to stay until then.’
The rest of the meal passed mostly in silence. Oh, don’t get me wrong, the other ladies and gentlemen were quite loquacious, and the hyenas tried to draw Mr Ambrose into conversation more than once. They didn’t seem to comprehend what I had known for a pretty long time: Mr Ambrose and conversations? Not a feasible mix.
But between Mr Ambrose and me, silence reigned. Silence that was punctuated only by the occasional glance out of the corner of an eye, and forceful use of cutlery. Our behaviour didn’t go unnoticed. Lady Samantha threw more than one curious glance in our direction, and Adaira - well, she didn’t content herself with glances. Her sea-coloured eyes were as piercing as the points of Poseidon’s trident. I could practically hear her whisper in my ear: what is it? What’s happened between my brother and you? Spit it out!
Luckily, spitting was against table manners. Still, her scrutiny was nearly as intimidating as that of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. When the dinner finally came to an end, I literally jumped at the chance to get away. I only mumbled a hasty excuse to Lady Samantha, then I was on my feet and heading towards the door, towards freedom-
-when a strong, hard hand closed around my wrist.
‘Miss Linton. A word?’
Oh, that cool, collected voice…
What is he thinking?
He wanted a word! With me! Was he going to ask me to open the ball with him?
But when I turned around and saw the icy determination in his eyes, I knew Mr Ambrose hadn’t come to ask anything. He had come to demand.
‘Last chance, Miss Linton.’ His voice was too low for anyone to overhear - but everyone was watching. Everyone. Especially the hyenas. Oh, and Lady Samantha. And Adaira. Spiffing! ‘Have you reconsidered my offer?’
I raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Have you reconsidered mine?’
Good God! I’m asking him in front of a room full of people including his sister and mother if he’d like to dance the fandango de pokum with me!