‘Please! I beg of you, stop! You are killing me! Stop!’
‘Dearest Edmund!’ For the first time, Ella seemed to realize that he was on the ground, unable to stand. Her face filled with horror, and she raised a hand to her mouth. ‘What are you saying? I would never dream of hurting you!’
Personally, I thought she had done a splendid job of ripping his heart into tiny little pieces, but if I cheered her on, that would probably alert them to my presence. So I kept quiet and just pulled a branch aside to see better.
‘And yet you are,’ Edmund moaned. ‘You are hurting me more than anyone has ever hurt me in my life! The way you speak of Sir Philip showering you with gifts and compliments… I cannot bear it!’
‘But my love, you wished me to tell you everything! You expressly demanded it.’
‘I know, I know. And yet it tortures me to hear it. Especially to hear the tone in which you speak. You sound as if his attentions are very welcome to you. Oh, I see how it is. Your new suitor brings with him a great name and honourable rank, and I shall soon be forgotten. Winning your love has only been a dream. Oh Eros,[30] why do you torture me so?’
‘A dream?’ Not caring if her dress got dirty, Ella dropped to her knees in the muddy grass to be at eye level with Edmund. My, my, she really had to love him. I remembered very well the talking-to I had received from my aunt the last time I had gotten my dress dirty.
‘Edmund, if my love for you is a dream, then the sun is a phantom and the moon an illusion. My love for you is just as indestructible and everlasting as those two giants of the sky. Yet it is by no means as distant. It is right here.’
With a tender gesture she touched herself right above her heart.
‘It is?’ Edmund whispered. ‘It truly is?’
Oh, come on already! She’s already told you it is, hasn't she?
Honestly, I was a bit frustrated with the fellow. She had told him she loved him about three dozen times now, and he still didn’t seem to have gotten the message. You would have thought once would be enough. How dense could he be?
‘I swear on everything that is holy,’ Ella responded with fervour. ‘I love you.’
‘But the way you spoke of Sir Phillip…’
‘I may have been flattered, Edmund, I do not deny it.’ Shamefully, she let her eyes sink to the ground. ‘It is the first time in my life that I have been noticed by such a great and powerful man, and the strange feeling might for a moment have gone to my head. But that is all it is, Edmund. I swear. I love you, now and forever.’
Edmund wet his lips. He opened his mouth, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse:
‘But what then will you say when this great and powerful man asks you to become his wife?’
Ella rocked back on her heels. The question had hit her like a kick in the stomach.
I, for my part, was feeling an urge to kick Edmund in the stomach.
‘Edmund, I…’ Her words trailed off into nothingness. She seemed not capable of forming a response.
‘This is what it all comes down to,’ Edmund persisted, his eyes burning with passion - or maybe hay fever. I wasn’t exactly an expert in the different nuances of burning eyes. ‘Last time we could wait and hope. Last time we could imagine that it was only a passing fancy on his part, hope that Wilkins would be gone soon and we would be safe. But now? I tell you, my love, my darling, he intends to marry you. Sooner or later, he will ask you. The question that remains now is: what will be your answer?’
‘Please, Edmund, don't!’
‘Will you answer yes?’
‘I… I…’
‘I see reluctance in your eyes. I see tears streaming down your face. It is enough. I see, you do not wish to have him. Will you do the only other thing possible, then? Will you save our love? Will you deny him?’
Burying her face in her hands, Ella gave an anguished wail. Tears spilled right and left, and she still wasn’t using any onions. Really impressive. This ‘love’-thingy really had to be something if it could make people act this crazy.
‘My aunt spoke of the wedding as a certain thing,’ Ella whispered through her fingers. ‘She told me how great a match it would be for me and how happy she was for me, knowing that I would be provided for, and happy, and safe for the rest of my life.’
Slowly, her hands fell from her face, which was stained with salty moisture.
‘Tell me, Edmund, how could I disappoint her hopes? How could I be that ungrateful a child?’
Hm… maybe by taking a leaf out of the book of your favourite sister?
But I knew that this solution wouldn’t appeal to Ella. She and I lived in different worlds and by different rules, with her rules being pretty ridiculous and problematic. Edmund seemed to realize the same thing at this very moment.
‘Ella… you don't mean… you don't mean you’re going to say yes?’
Ella didn’t reply anything, just sprang to her feet.
‘Goodbye, my love,’ she whispered, and with another sob she ran off, back towards the house.
Bugger!
~~*~~*
I pretended not to notice Ella crying herself to sleep. But I noticed. Oh yes, I noticed all right. Not even a bedtime chapter of Mary Astell could comfort me that night.
My dreams were full of evil lords with oversized ears trying to snatch my little sister away from me and choke her under a mountain of flowers. For the umpteenth time I regretted that I, as a girl, didn’t have the same rights as a man. If I had, I would have learned how to handle a weapon long ago, and then I could just go to Wilkins and challenge him to a duel.
One bullet right between the eyes. That would do the trick!
As things stood, though, the only thing I could do was get to work. Despite my worry for my sister and my determination to figure something out to help her, I had to admit I was also curious as to whether Simmons' night in the cellar had yielded any results.
Oh yes, you are. And you’re even more curious whether one of these results is Simmons’ ice-cold, mutilated corpse, aren’t you?
I shook my head. Mr Ambrose would never do something like that!
Well… probably.
Before I left, I sneaked over to Ella’s bedside and wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks as best I could without waking her. It would do no good for my aunt to see them. Although she was probably delusional enough to imagine them to be tears of joy, I was sure Ella had rather not let them be seen. Finished with my demoisturization, I stroked my little sister’s cheek one final time affectionately and then hurried down the stairs and out the back. It was time to get going, or Mr Ambrose would skin me alive!
At Empire House, Sallow-face let me pass upstairs without comment. I couldn’t suppress a tiny, triumphant smile.
Yay! He had accepted me. I only hoped Mr Ambrose had done the same and not decided to change his mind.
Exchanging friendly nods, I passed Mr Stone in the upper hallway and entered my office. I had hardly sat down at my desk when, with a little plink, a message plopped out of the pneumatic tube.
Oh dear… Here we go.
Mr Linton,
I have been waiting for you for hours. Where have you been? I do not tolerate tardiness, as I believe I have told you before.
Rikkard Ambrose.
What the heck…? Late? I could have sworn that I arrived on the dot!
Rising from my chair along with my temper, I looked around the room - but Mr Ambrose was too stingy to even buy a clock for his secretary’s office, and I still didn’t have a watch. So I marched to the door and flung it open.
‘Excuse me, Mr Stone, what time is it?’
A bit startled, he looked up from his papers and, being confronted with an angry fury in baggy striped trousers, hurriedly fished his watch out of his pocket. ‘Eight o'clock exactly, Mr Linton. Um… Why?’
‘Nothing! Thanks.’
‘Oh, Mr Linton, wait!’ He held out a hand with a couple of envelopes. ‘I almost forgot to give you these. The correspondence of the day.’
‘Thanks again.’
Grabbing the letters out of his hand, I marched back to my desk like the wrathful angel of justice, and snatched up pen and paper to scribble furiously: