Behind the Storm & Silence

Chapter 1

Lillian Linton

Mr.Linton,

You are dismissed.

Rikkard Ambrose

I sat at my desk in my office reading the latest message from my employer. That blasted son of a bachelor. He had been locked up in his cabin for the entire day, asking for files every blasted second. I must have ran the entire circumference of the earth....ten times. And not once did he open his door. Not that I wanted to see that bloody miser's perfect chiseled face of course.

I realised in my angry fit, I had almost crumbed the small bit of paper I was holding. I threw the paper in the bin and decided to pack. I put my hat on my head, making sure that my hair stayed inside it. I straightened my peacock tailcoat and looked at the closed window where I saw a face staring back at me. It had big chocolate brown eyes and looked like a male if no one knew what lay underneath, nobody could guess. Great, now I can leave.

Muttering a last curse at my stone cold employer, I said a goodbye to the closed door that connected my cabin to that of his.

I started across Leadenhall Street and after a walk I finally reached my humble abode in St. James. My feet were hurting from the gruelling work I had to do, fetching files for that bloody stone cold miser with those engaging sea coloured eyes and surprisingly warm body that wrapped around me in Egypt...no, no, no. Bad Lilly! Focus. You are a feminist. He is a chauvinist.

I turned the corner to my house and stepped into the shed to change. 10 minutes after struggling into the gown, I groaned as I climbed the ladder into the room I shared with my little sister Ella. Lillian Linton was back, Victor Linton gone.

Just as I stepped inside, the door burst open revealing a flushed timid young girl. Was she really timid, not when she sneaked out at night to meet her lover, Edmund....

Ella ran towards me and grabbed my shoulders, " On Lil, where have you been? We have to get ready. It is Lady Metcalfe's ball tonight, did you forget?"

Blast, double blast. I can't go to the ball. Besides it being a market place to buy, I mean find, brides, I could hardly stand let alone dance thanks to that employer of mine.

"Ibn Himar." I cursed him again in Arabic.

"What was that Lil?"

Gurgh! "Nothing."

After exhausting all my Portuguese, Arabic and English swear word vocabulary, which was very extensive mind you, I made my way to the carriage waiting for us at the door. My five sisters and my aunt all filed in. Maria and Anne looked their best as usual, fanning their faces. Their gown was almost too revealing. Than again they didn't mind. They wanted to be bought, I mean found, by a man who wanted to kidnap, I mean marry them.

We sat in silence as we passed the street and then my aunt pounced.

"Remember. Smile at them, dance with every man that asks you to dance. DO NOT spend time munching on food." That was directed at me. "And of course keep a look out for him."

All eyes turned towards her asking a single silent question- Who?

She looked at us with exasperation in her eyes, "Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh of course. He is the richest man in the British empire. Dance..."

"Second." I heard a voice say and I gasped. It was me! Sweet little me. Why did I snap. You sounded just like Mr. Ambrose. Remember when you said Dalgleish was the richest man and he pointed out that he was not the richest but the second richest man....

"What?" My aunt asked.

Clearing my throat I held my head high. "Second richest Aunt. I reckon Mr. Rikkard Ambrose is the richest man in the entire British Empire."

My aunt looked dumb folded. Serves her right. She opened that harpy like mouth of hers when the carriage came to a halt.

We had arrived.