Page 5 of Storm of Bells
My eyes narrowed. ‘So considerate of you,Sir.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And may I ask…what exactly are these “wifelyduties” you would like me to assume?’
He gave a small twitch of the shoulders, whatpassed for a shrug in the land of stone statues. ‘Oh, nothing much.Just preparing meals for me and any of the few dozen businesspartners I might host dinners for, keeping the fifty-one rooms ofthe house clean and orderly, washing and mending the clothes anddishes—’
‘Mendthedishes?’
‘Certainly. Porcelain glue is a marvellousinvention. Kindly do not interrupt again, Mr Linton.’
‘Certainly not, Sir. Please do go on.’
‘As I was saying, washing and mending dishesand clothes,—incidentally, you shall have to be careful with that,since I do not intend to discard my tailcoat after it has served meso well this last decade—keeping the housing accounts indouble-entry accounting, in a manner that will not displease me atmy quarterly expenditure review, ironing my suits, acquiring allnecessary supplies from nearby shops at the minimum possible price,sewing new clothes for yourself and me to wear, keeping allcreditors, alms-seeking clergymen and members of charitableorganizations from entering the house, oh, and, of course,directing the servants who will be assisting you in your duties.The latter, you will be happy to hear, will not be a difficulttask, because there most likely won’t be many.’
‘Duties?’
‘No. Servants.’
‘Ah.’ I nodded, smiling sweetly. ‘Then whynot get rid of them altogether? After all, I could just reduce mysleep to four hours a day like you did and do all the work bymyself.’
‘What an admirable suggestion, Mr Linton. Ican see you will do very well in your new role.’
‘And perhaps I could also grow two extra legsand arms so I can work twice as fast.’
Mr Ambrose’s eyes narrowedinfinitesimally.
‘Do I detect a slight note of sarcasm, MrLinton?’
‘No, of course not, Sir.’ I leaned forward,still displaying a cheerful smile on my face. ‘You detect ashitload of sarcasm!’ My smile abruptly disappeared, and firesparked in my eyes. ‘You can take your porcelain glue and use it toglue shut your tight ar—’
‘Mr Linton! Mind your language!’
‘Just one language? No problem, I have several at my disposal.Que te la pique un pollo![2]Tuki kalay kutaykahn![3]Vous avez le cervau d'unSoufflé.[4]‘
‘If my brains do indeed taste of soufflé, I’msure the dogs would be delighted to.’
I threw him a dirty look. Damn the man! Youcouldn’t even insult him in three foreign languages without himunderstanding every single word and firing back a broadside! Howwere you supposed to live with somebody like that?
Happily, because you love him.
Bloody hell! I hoped very, very much he hadnot read that part of my inner dialogue in my eyes. Raising mychin, I stared him down.
‘You stingy son of a bachelor! You just wantto marry me to get an unpaid house slave!’
‘That is an unjust accusation, Mr Linton.’ Hegave me a cool look. ‘It is by no means theonlyreason,just one of the more significant ones.’
One thing you had to give Mr RikkardAmbrose—he was honest.
Another thing you should probably give MrRikkard Ambrose—a good kick in the butt! For now, however, Irefrained, mostly because he was currently still sitting on it. Itwould give me something to look forward to tomorrow.
‘I am not a biddable flower in the house, tobe ordered around at your convenience! I am an independentwoman!’
‘Yes, you are.’
I opened my mouth to refute his words—thenwhat he’d actually said reached my brain, and I closed my mouthagain. Pardon? Had he justagreedwith me?
‘You are an independent woman. For…’ heglanced at his calendar. ‘For about three weeks.’ Raising his eyesagain, he gazed at me. The intensity of his arctic eyes sent ashiver down my back. And not a bad one, damn him! ‘After that, youwill be mine.’
