Page 76 of Storm of Bells
‘By the way…’ My brow furrowed, I leanedforward and lowered my voice. ‘Do you have any idea what Mr Ambrosemeant about having a home? Besides this place, I mean? An estate inthe country?’
She shook her head. ‘I have no clue. This isthe first I’ve heard of it. And if it wasn’t you telling me this,I’d be laughing my head off. My brother, spend money on an estatein the country? You might as well expect Count Casanova to investmoney in a chastity belt.’
‘That’s what I was thinking.’ Thoughtfullytapping the top of the desk, I stared off into the distance. ‘Ihave no idea what to expect. I only know that I smell somethingfishy.’
‘And I smell something chocolaty. Can I haveanother piece?’
‘By all means, help yourself.’
‘Thanks. I really—’
Adaira cut off when, from behind her, came anoise. Our eyes swept to the paternoster.
‘Were you expecting anyone else?’ Adairaenquired.
‘Not really. But Mrs Emeline Windham-Wendrothfrom the Society for the Protection of Homeless Tomcats drops bynow and again.’
‘Mrswho?’
I was just about to answer when the latestpaternoster cabin arrived, and out stepped a portly man with a headshaped like a tree stump and a marvellously bankish bowler hat. Hepractically had the word ‘banker’ printed on his forehead. Onstumpy legs, he waddled towards us, and inclined his head.
‘Good afternoon, Sir, Miss. I—’
‘Your Ladyship,’ I corrected.
He blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘Your Ladyship,’ I repeated, gesturing inAyla’s direction. ‘You, Sir, are in the presence of Lady AdairaLouise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose.’
‘Oh.’ His face reddening, the man bowed sodeeply that, for a moment, he was in danger of toppling over. ‘Myapologies, My Lady. My name is Willaby Chadwick, of the bankChadwick, Millerstone and Chadwick. Please forgive me for theinterruption of your conversation, but I have some urgent businessmatters to discuss with this gentleman and his superior. Perhapsyou would be kind enough to withdraw?’
Translation: We want our money! Get out ofhere so I can get nasty.
‘Well, now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Youhave business with my brother? Now Ihaveto stay.’ Battingher eyes oh-so-innocently, Adaira gazed up at him. ‘Do tell, whatis this about?’
‘Um, well…’ Clearing his throat, the MrChadwick glanced awkwardly from Adaira to me and back. ‘The thingis…it is a distasteful business matter. I’m not sure such mattersare suitable for a young lady’s ears.’
Adaira gave the man a censorious look.
‘Now, now, Sir. You wouldn’t be soungentlemanly as to refuse a lady’s request, would you? Please, Iwould love to know what your business with my dear, dear brotheris.’
Grinning, I leaned back in my chair. Golly,she was good.
A pained look crossed Mr Chadwick’s face. Hesquirmed under Adaira’s charming, ladylike smile.
‘Well, you see, My Lady, a certain difficultyseems to have arisen regarding the sale of some of our property toyour brother. He and our head of finance seem to, um…disagree aboutthe appropriate amount of money necessary to purchase the property,and the speed of payment.’
Translation: It’s easier to squeeze lemonjuice out of a coconut than money out of Rikkard Ambrose.
Boy, I was good at this. If Mr Ambrose firedme after all, I should get a job as a translator.
‘Well, now, Mr Chadwick,’ Adaira beamed up athim. ‘All problems can be solved with good will, a slice of cakeand a cup of tea. Won’t you sit down?’
‘I don’t think that would beappropriate…’
She narrowed her eyes at him. Her smilebecame slightly more…intense. ‘Won’t yousit down, MrChadwick?’
‘Of course, My Lady. Right away, MyLady.’
