Silence is Golden

11. The Bliss of Love

My aunt, however, had no such inhibitions.

'Lillian?' Leaning over to me, she spoke in a low but unmistakably no-nonsense voice. 'Where did you disappear to last night?'

Having Mr Ambrose for an employer really had been enormously educational. It had taught me the value of the world's most underestimated rhetorical device.

Silence.

'Lillian? Answer me!'

And more silence.

'Answer me now!'

And just a little bit more to annoy her. Ha! I knew how to be silent. I had learned from the master of masters.

'Very well.' The gaze my aunt shot me through narrowed eyes told me she didn't particularly appreciate Ambrosian rhetorical tactics. 'Be a stubborn little girl about last night, if you will. But today you will behave like a lady, understood? Mr Fitzgerald will expect you to spend the day with him – and that you will do! No buts, understood?'

'Yes, Aunt.'

I would give her no buts – however, that didn't mean I was going to do what she said. I was an excellent liar. Always had been. What can I say, it's a natural talent.

Besides, I really had to get to work. So, just before breakfast ended, I excused myself, saying I had to go to the powder room. My aunt threw me a suspicious look. But what could she do? She could hardly demand to go with me in front of her future nephew-in-law.

I was thorough. I went down the corridor to the powder room, banged the door in an audible manner, and only then snuck back up the corridor and out the back door into the garden. Minutes later I emerged from the garden shed and, stepping out onto the street, started on my way towards Empire House, 322 Leadenhall Street.

Work that day was nothing to write home about. Not that Mr Ambrose would have granted me time off to write home about it even if it had been. I slaved all day on those balance sheets of his, and when the day drew to a close, he wanted me to take the rest home, to work through in my free time.

'Not on your sweet life!' I shook my head, retreating a few steps. 'I sweat all day for you in the office! I'm not going to do it at home!'

'It would show an admirable work ethic,' he pointed out coolly.

'But you wouldn't pay me extra, would you?'

'Of course not. That's why it would be admirable.'

'You can take your admirable work ethic and stuff it up your–'

And I said a word that made him send me a very frosty look.

'Language, Mr Linton!'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Will you do the work at home or not?'

'No, Sir. Besides, I could not, even if I wanted to. I have a situation at home.'

'Oh?'

'I...'

I hesitated for a moment. For some reason I didn't want to tell him.

'Out with it, Mr Linton!'

'I...am engaged.'

'Indeed?'

'To a man!'

'How shocking.'

'Don't laugh at me!'

'Do I look like I'm laughing?'

No, of course he didn't! Damn him!

Mr Ambrose cocked his head. 'Off with you, then. Enjoy your time with your fiancé.'