Page 8 of Storm of Bells
‘Wonderful?’ I suggested.
Her hands clenched into fists.
‘Nice?’ I put forward as a less offensivealternative.
‘…nice to see you, too,’ she finished.Quickly, she strode over to the table and snatched a plate.
Poor Auntie…Lately, she did not know exactlyhow to treat me. On the one hand, I was an insolent young chit withthe manners of a rampaging rhino, the dress sense of a parrot,and—horror of horrors—with opinions of my own, a mouth even smarterthan my brain, and a tendency to use it in public. In short, I waseverything Hester Mahulda Brank despised in this world and more,wrapped up in one neat, well-padded package.
On the other hand, it appeared that, of allpeople, I would be the one to make the dearest wish of her crumpledlittle vulture’s heart—marrying a member of her family into theupper echelons of the British aristocracy—come true at last. Whenthis had become clear, my aunt had gone through the followingstages of niece-to-be-weddedness:
1. Denial
2. Delirious happiness
3. (having taken a good look at Mr Ambrose, andcompared him to me) More denial. Lots more.
4. (after inspecting Mr Ambrose’s birth certificate,estimated net worth, and his entry inDebrett’s Peerage)More delirious happiness
5. Slow, dawning horror at the realization that shewould, technically, have to begratefulto me. Worse thanthat, she would have to pretend tolikeme.
Worse yet, she had discovered that a smallpart of her shrivelled black soul actually did not, currently, hateme with every fibre of her being. So, at the moment, her feelingswere rather ambiguous. Sometimes she hated me. Sometimes she lovedme. When she was particularly confused, she lated me, or maybehoved me. And every time I saw the struggle on her face as shetried to decide whether to strangle me, hug me, or do both at thesame time, I had to work hard to keep a grin from my face.
But then again—hadn’t I just worked a fullten hours? I deserved a little break.
Aunt Brank gazed at my deplorably cheerfulface with an expression of mingled disgust and anticipation.
‘I see you’ve been spending time with yourfiancé?’
‘Indeed I have.’Carrying files, takingdown business correspondence and organizing the schedule for nextweek.But she didn’t really need to know that.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Are you sureyou aren’t spending a little bit too much time in his company? Youwere gone all day.’
I gave a romantic sigh. ‘That’s how much heloves me. He can’t bear to be parted from me.’Not withoutcutting my wages in half, that is.
The suspicion doubled. I could see theunfamiliar thoughts in my aunt’s eyes as clearly as if they’d beenwritten on her forehead:A man and a woman…alone…there wasn’tthat much they could do without going out, except…
‘You do have a chaperon, don’t you?’ shedemanded sharply.
‘Certainly.’ Reaching for the potatoes, Ishovelled a goodly portion onto my plate. ‘The loveliest chaperonanyone could imagine. Charming, sweet…’ …seven feet tall,turban-wearing, masculine. ‘The poor dear has a bit of aproblem with facial hair, though.’
Instinctively, Aunt Brank’s hand went up toher own modest moustache on her upper lip.
‘Facial hair is perfectly normal from acertain age! I’m sure whoever she is, she is a lovely lady.’
I gave her a bright smile. ‘I’ll be sure topass that along, word for word. I’m sure your words will make a bigimpression.’
Somewhere from down the corridor, we heard acrash. Ah. The Battle of the Bride had apparently reached itsclimax. Luckily, the bride herself had better things to do.Nibbling on a delicious cold piece of potato, I leaned back andsighed. Life was good!
‘Miss Lillian?’ I glanced up to see Leadfieldhobbling closer, carrying a letter on what looked like a silvertray, but, knowing my Uncle Bufford, was probably just tin. ‘Mydeepest apologies for disturbing your meal. This telegram has justarrived for you.’
‘Telegram?’ Aunt Brank demanded. ‘Who onearth would sendyoua telegram?’
‘Let’s find out, shall we?’
Snatching up the missive, I tore open theenvelope, and read:
Coming nextFriday STOP Will stay at best suite in Brown’s hotel STOP and sendbill to my brother.[7]
