Hunting for Silence

36. Knock, Knock

It took a few days before we could return to London. Mr Ambrose had insisted on dispatching one of his not-so-merry men to the city to check if the epidemic was passed before he would let me within fifty miles of the capital. Explaining to my friends and family why exactly they had to wait for word from a man they didn't know existed, employed by another man whose name they didn't yet know, wasn't easy, but, accomplished truth-bender that I was, I managed.

One thing was noticeable, however: with the exception of Ella, nearly everyone suddenly treated me differently. Edmund was almost worshipfully grateful for all I'd done for his beloved. He would have put his coat down for me to walk on over puddles if the weather hadn't been so consistently sunny and dry. Lisbeth and Gertrude as well as Edmund's parents looked at me with a sort of shocked awe, probably caused by the reverence of the hotel staff and the fact that somehow, inexplicably, I suddenly seemed to be in charge of everything. Patsy was angry as hell. Not at me so much as at the fact that she couldn't bring herself to hate my prospective suitor. I had shared with her the little detail that he'd been instrumental in saving Ella's life, and she had looked at me as if she'd swallowed a lemon.

'Really? Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'So...I shouldn't whack him over the head with my parasol, or push him into a duck pond?'

'No.'

'Damn!'

Eve was constantly peppering me with questions, and Flora had caught the wedding fever and was doing her best to plan a wedding for me, or maybe two or three in one go while she was at it. Only Anne and Maria were truly reliable. They hated my guts just like before. Only a lot, lot, more. Relatives you can truly depend on are such a comfort, aren't they?

Finally, the day of departure arrived.

'Are you sure you're well enough? We could wait another few days and—'

'Stop fussing, Edmund,' Ella ordered with a smile that said she'd like nothing better than for him to continue. 'I'm fine. And besides...' She glanced at me. 'We should get home. We've got things to take care of.'

I squeezed her hand. It was warm and smooth, nothing like the paper-dry skeleton fingers of only a week or so ago.

'Well, let's go then.' Nodding to Karim, I strode toward the door—which he promptly held open for me. Mr and Mrs Conway exchanged looks. Anne and Maria exchanged scowls.

'You came with two coaches, didn't you?' Patsy asked. 'Will we all fit, or should I hire an extra?'

'Oh, I think we'll fit.' I grinned. 'And if not, you can always sit next to Karim on the box. I'm sure he'd love the company.'

Before either of the two could dismember me with their looks, I slipped into the nearest coach.

Under the stern eyes of Karim, it didn't take long for the hotel staff to load our luggage onto the coaches. Soon, he swung himself onto the box—of the coach Patsy was sitting in, as it happened. Trying not to smile, I leaned back into the plush seat.

'Gee-up!'

The coach jerked and started rolling forward. Smoothly, we slid along the palatial façades of Bath. As soon as we reached the outskirts of the town, riders appeared on both sides of the coaches—plain-dressed men in black and grey, with sharp eyes and forgettable faces.

Maria glanced out of the window, shifting nervously. 'Who're they?'

I smiled. 'Insurance.'

The others exchanged looks, but none of them knew quite what to say.