Storm and Silence (Storm and Silence #1)

Blast! Why did I have to think about him now, when I had just achieved a measure of peace and managed to forget all about the existence of the overbearing, annoying and infuriating species known as ‘men’ for a couple of minutes?

But the more I tried to force his image from my mind, the clearer it appeared: his stark, angular features, his typical look of cool disinterest and, most of all, those dark, sea-coloured eyes that seemed like pearls from a bottomless ocean. Seeing all the opulent splendour surrounding Sir Philip Wilkins, I could not help but wonder why Mr Ambrose, who was supposedly one of the richest men in London, spent his days in an office with bare stone walls. I also couldn’t help wonder where he had gotten his money from, if indeed he was as rich as Maria had claimed. He didn’t seem to me like a wealthy landowner, not at all the sort of man to fit into London’s high society.

For a moment, I amused myself with the thought of how he would act if he were here. I couldn’t help but smile. He’d stick out like a shark in a flock of peacocks.

Then, suddenly, I was jerked out of my thoughts by the most unlikely thing imaginable. A voice beside me. A man’s voice. A man’s voice asking, in a calm, polite tone: ‘Miss Linton? Will you do me the honour of dancing with me?’





Practicing Impertinence


My eyes flew open, and I looked up to see an upright, elderly military gentleman with an enormous moustache standing before me. Not Mr Ambrose. Definitely not. It was Colonel Remington, one of the many captains and colonels Sir Philip had introduced me to.

And why the heck had I been thinking of Mr Ambrose? He wasn’t even here!

The Colonel cleared his throat. Maybe he thought I hadn’t heard him.

‘Will you do me the honour of dancing with me, Miss Linton?’ he repeated.

‘Err… no,’ I said.

He turned a bit red in the face, and went away, looking rather affronted.

Hm… Perhaps that had not quite been according to etiquette? I racked my brains, trying to remember my aunt’s lessons. Hadn’t there been something about a lady never being allowed to refuse a dance unless she had already promised it to another gentleman? Well, if there was such a rule, it was complete bollocks.[20] I should have the right to choose not to dance with whomever I bloody well pleased!

Through a gap in the potted plants I could see Colonel Remington joining a few of his military friends - mostly younger officers. He was gesticulating quite energetically. No doubt he was conveying something he considered to be of some importance.

One of the young men laughed. ‘Maybe she just didn’t like the looks of you,’ he teased the elder gentleman.

My mouth dropped open. They were talking about me. Me! Well, at least that would ensure that I wouldn’t be bothered with any more invitations to dance this night. My lapse in courtesy would spread across the room like wildfire, and surely all those chauvinists would be revolted and shocked to the core. None of the men would even bother to give me a second glance after that.

‘I must have a look at that wench,’ the young officer continued with a wink, and my mouth dropped open a little farther. ‘Was she pretty?’

I couldn’t hear the Colonel’s more muted reply to this, but the young officer laughed again. ‘Come on, old boy, she must have been! And known it, too - quite a conceited little madam, to turn down an officer like that.’

He winked at the other young men around him and strode off. I could hardly believe that he was going to do what I thought he was going to do.

Nevertheless, when the dance had ended and the next one was approaching, I saw him striding towards me with a gait so pompous you could have identified him as a young military officer even if he had been missing his uniform, medals and underpants. He was accompanied by one of his friends who had already been introduced to me.

Both of them examined me not unlike one would examine a piece of meat on a butcher’s counter. I ignored them with magnificent composure and took another piece of solid chocolate from the plate beside me.

‘Miss Linton?’ Mr Familiar Soldier made an extravagant bow, and Mr Unfamiliar Soldier followed suit.

‘I don't know whether you remember me? I’m Major Rushworth. Sir Philip introduced us.’

I did not deign to reply immediately - after all, it was considered impolite to talk with your mouth full, wasn’t it? Instead, I finished my chocolate, and then plastered a smile on my face.

‘Sir Philip introduced me to a great many people,’ I replied sweetly. ‘Most of whom my unreliable memory has already unintroduced again. You, I’m afraid, are among them.’

It was half true. I had actually forgotten him. Nevertheless, my memory was usually very good - yet only for things I wanted to remember.

Major Rushworth blushed slightly but didn’t let that deter him.

‘Well, may I be permitted to introduce you to a friend of mine? To this gentleman, here, Lieutenant Ellingham.’

My eyes narrowed. I didn’t know much about etiquette, but I did know that the inferior person was always introduced to the superior. By deciding to introduce me to his friend and not the other way around, he had put me on a level below him. And that was something, considering the complacent smile on the lieutenant’s face, which I did not appreciate at all.

‘No, you may not,’ I told him. ‘But you may introduce him to me, if you like.’

‘Err…’

Apparently, at first the major didn’t quite know what to say to that. He gazed at me for a moment, then collected himself again, cleared his throat and went on: ‘Err… very well. Miss Linton, may I be allowed to introduce my friend Lieutenant Ellingham to your notice?’

‘Yes, you may.’ The smile on my face was widened a bit and I nodded graciously. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant Ellingham,’ I lied.

‘As am I,’ said the young man, whose arrogant smile had not in the least been reduced in radiance by my rebuff.

‘Well, I’ll leave you to it then,’ the Major said, throwing me another odd glance and then disappearing with an eye roll at his friend. I saw the message ‘It’s your funeral’ clearly in those eyes.

And he was right. It was.

Lieutenant Ellingham seated himself beside me. Taking the bull by the horns, I turned to him. Best to get this over with.

‘Well, what should we talk about, Lieutenant? The weather would be a good subject of discussion, if we were not inside and it was night.’

‘How about the society?’ he asked, gesturing towards the people dancing everywhere in the grand room.

‘That would be unwise. When you make conversation, it is generally considered best to say nice and polite things. And the present society would not furnish me with a lot of opportunities for that.’

He blinked at me, no doubt wondering if he had heard right. In the end, he seemed to decide that he had not. I was a lady, after all. Ladies didn’t say impolite things. It was unheard of.

Instead of trying to find another topic, he cut right to the chase.

‘I must admit, Miss Linton, that I had a particular reason for wishing an introduction with you.’

‘Did you, now?’ I couldn’t entirely keep the sarcasm out of my voice. But the young man’s arrogance apparently made him immune to sarcasm from ladies as well as to impudence. He gave me a smile that he probably thought was charming.

It wasn’t.

‘Yes, I did. I have been admiring you from afar for some time now. You have caught my eye, Miss Linton.’

‘Indeed?’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘I can’t remember you throwing it at me, to be honest. I don't have your eye on me, I promise. I never catch eyes. They are rather slippery and slimy things, not at all the kind of objects I would like to carry around in my pocket.’

‘Um…’ he blinked, just as dumbfounded as his friend before, clearly lacking the brains to decipher my reply. For some unknown reason, I took pity on him.

‘Were you going to ask me if I would dance with you?’ I asked him.

‘Yes! That is it, exactly. How did you know?’

‘Let’s just say I am a discerning person. Well, if it is a dance you want, that makes things very simple.’

‘Excellent.’ He got up, his arrogant grin back on his face, and held a hand out to me.

Robert Thier's books