Silence Breaking

20. Wrap the Captain

*~*~**~*~*

The days passed slowly and torturously. As I lay there, waiting for my ribs to stop poking me with red hot irons, I reflected that this probably was what marriage to an eligible bachelor would be like: nothing to do all day but be idle until you were bored out of your skull.

So I was determined to approach my injuries with the same brilliant strategy with which I had always approached the prospect of marriage: ignore it and hope it goes away.

'Ah! Ouch! Argh!'

'Um...Miss? I'm not entirely sure you should up on your feet. Your poor ribs–'

'Blast, blast, blast! Ow! Ouch! Bloody hell!'

'Miss, please! Mr Ambrose said you weren't to overexert yourself.'

'Really? He said that?'

Nellie, the maid Mr Ambrose had assigned to me as my personal whipping boy and dogsbody during our stay at this lovely house, blushed. 'Well... he said "Get her up on her feet by the day after tomorrow, or you'll be out of a job." But I'm sure he meant for you to not overexert yourself.'

I patted her head. 'Bless you. Of course he did. Now help me hobble over there, will you? I think I can manage another round across the room before I collapse.'

'Yes, Miss.'

My get-well-or-die-trying approach showed definite results. After only a week, I could hobble across the room without help, and after only a few days more, I managed to get back to my bed without falling on my face. Captain Carter visited me quite often, providing moral support, and Mr Ambrose also dropped by, providing icy glares and threats of cutting my wages. It was hardly a surprise that with such loving support, matters steadily improved. It wasn't long before, finally, I was able to go outside again.

'Aaah!' Stretching, I breathed in the fresh stench of coal mines and factories. 'It's so good to be out again. And will you look at that? Most of the city isn't burned to the ground. How wonderful.'

'Indeed.'

'I always try to look on the bright side of things.'

'I've noticed.' Stepping to the edge of the balcony, Mr Ambrose gazed out over the city of Newcastle. 'Speaking of a bright side...'

'Yes, Sir?'

'The army made some enquiries into the miners who were suspected of assaulting you in front of the manager's office.'

'And?'

'And those men seem to have disappeared.'

'Is that so, Sir?'

'Yes, Mr Linton.'

'Ah.'

Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at him. He was still looking out over the city. His face was completely impassive, giving nothing away, and demanding a refund of two hundred pounds and thirty-seven shillings into the bargain. Surely he wouldn't...

Would he?

Time to change the subject. And, fortunately, I had just the right thing ready at hand. Drawing a folded piece of paper from my pocket, I cleared my throat.

'I received another letter from your mother this morning, Sir.'

'Indeed, Mr Linton?'

'Yes, Sir.'

Silence.

And a bit more silence.

'Um...well, Sir?'