Making Lieutenant-Pancake

My ear pressed against the solid metal door, I listened intently for any sound of torture. Not that I knew exactly what torture would sound like, apart from the screaming, of course, which was pretty much a given. Still, it couldn't hurt to try. Not me, at least, I thought with a tiny shiver.

Considering Mr Ambrose's words, and even more than that the expression of his eyes, I had no doubt that something terrible was happening in there right now. But I couldn't hear a single sound. Was something the matter with my ears?

But then I suddenly heard footsteps approaching from the other side and hurriedly stepped backwards. A key turned in the lock, and Mr Ambrose exited the room, a ring with a large assortment of keys in his hand.

‘And?' I asked. God, I was becoming as monosyllabic as he.

‘We've managed to get him awake, but he won't talk.' Looking down, I saw that Mr Ambrose's hand was clenched to a fist around the ring of keys. ‘Whoever paid him to do this, they must be powerful and frightening.'

‘How do you know this?'

He fixed me with his steely dark gaze. ‘Because I am powerful and frightening, and he hasn"t told me a single thing yet. But he will, eventually.'

How do you know that? How can you be so sure?

Yet those thoughts were not what I spoke out loud. Instead, out spilled the question that had been plaguing me the entire way back to Empire House, the question which I never thought I would have the gall to ask:

‘Will you torture him?'

He looked at me, supreme disdain in his eyes. ‘No. Of course not.'

A momentous weight, which I hadn't really known was there, dropped from my shoulders. ‘Thank the Lord!' I breathed. ‘I almost thought…'

‘Why would I sully my own hands?' he continued, cutting me off. ‘I have people who attend to tasks like that for me.'

‘Oh.'

The weight slammed right back in place.

My mood swing had apparently gone completely unnoticed. He motioned towards the closed steel door behind him with a careless finger. ‘I have put Karim in charge of the investigation, and he has his methods.'

‘Methods like what?' I demanded. Darn, this was… frightening. Something inside me told me I should report this to the police. But if I did that, I would end up on Mr Ambrose's list of traitors, barring all chances of my independence. I was too selfish to risk my entire future on behalf of some greedy little thief I didn't know from Adam. All right, I know I'm not a very good person! But at least I'll get paid for it soon.

Mr Ambrose still hadn't answered. He was looking at me intently.

‘Methods like what?' I repeated the question.

‘That's nothing a lady such as yourself needs to concern yourself about.'

‘Oh, I'm a lady now, am I?'

‘Currently, it looks like it,' Mr Ambrose said, gesturing towards my dishevelled dress. ‘More or less, at least. It's high time that you got back into your trousers though, Mr Linton.'

I narrowed my eyes.

‘Why? Do you have work for me, Sir?'

‘No. I'm sending you home early.'

I was about to protest when he raised his hands. ‘I know. I agreed…' he paused to take a deep breath and with effort said: ‘I agreed to let you work for me, just like any other private secretary. This is not an attempt to get rid of you early. I'm giving you half the day off because you've had an exhausting day so far. Trust me, even if you don"t notice it now, you'll notice once the excitement of the hunt goes away. You need to rest, and I need to stay with Karim for a bit longer, so right now I don't have anything for you to do. Tomorrow you will come back, and you will work for me as hard as anybody else.'

For a moment I searched his face, trying to determine whether or not he was being truthful. Of course it didn't work. Not with his standard stony expression.

‘Promise?' I asked.

He nodded. ‘I promise on my honour as a gentleman.'

‘But…' I hesitated before asking the question. ‘But I'll still have to come dressed up as a man?'

‘Yes.' His voice was as hard as granite. ‘I cannot and will not accept a female secretary. I will not be made a fool of in front of the entire city. Either you come dressed as a man, or you never return.'

I nodded. This was hard for me to accept, but it was unavoidable. I turned to leave, but Mr Ambrose called me back, and so I turned again.

‘What is it, Sir?'

‘You know very well what it is. I want to know.'

‘Want to know what?'

‘Your method, of course. Well?'

‘What method? What are you talking about?' I asked, truly bewildered.

A muscle in his jaw twitched in an annoyed sort of way. ‘Don't play games with me! How did you do it? Find out where Simmons was?'

Ah! That was what was eating him. I struggled mightily to constrain my grin but probably failed.

‘How about a deal?' I said. ‘I tell you my method, and you tell me what's in the stolen file?'

His silence was answer enough.

Once again, I saw that mountain of money in front of my inner eye. And he had said it was too little payment…

‘I won't tell a soul,' I said. ‘I promise!'

‘No!' He shot a glare at me. ‘I don"t have to make any deals with you. You work for me. You will tell me how you did it. Now!'

I hesitated. ‘Well…'

I told him. I told him everything, with probably a bit more embellishment and gloating than necessary, but accurately enough. It had worked after all, hadn't it? There was no harm in taking pride in my work.

When I was finished, his stony face was even stonier than before - but his eyes were slightly wider as he gazed at me, and his mouth stood open a fraction.

‘Still sure you don"t want a female secretary?' I asked.

Then, before he could answer, I curtsied and hurried away.

*~*~**~*~*

I had decided to change back into men's clothes in my office. It would mean that I would have to change again when I came home, but under no circumstances could I go home in the dress Mr Ambrose had bought for me. None of my family had ever clapped eyes on it before, and besides, it wasn't in very great shape. I was a bit concerned about changing in my office - after all, I couldn't lock the doors, so what if anybody came in? - but there really wasn't anywhere else to go.

As it turned out, my concern was totally unnecessary. On the desk in my office I found a small package. A note was pinned to it, saying:

Dear Mr Linton,

Mr Ambrose instructed me to leave these for you. A friendly word of caution: It is very unusual for his secretary to be entrusted with these around the clock. Take good care of them.

Yours Sincerely,

Edgar Stone

My curiosity spiked. What was in there? Well, there was only one way to find out. I ripped open the paper around the package, and in a little cardboard box I found a ring of keys, not as large as the one Mr Ambrose had been carrying but still substantial. On it hung a key labelled Secretary's Office and another labelled Head Office.

Slowly, a smile spread over my face. He trusted nobody, hm? Well, maybe he was making an exception to the rule.

Then I noticed that there was no key labelled Safe on the ring. Well, it seemed as though he was starting to trust me, at least.

But then, why was he still refusing to reveal the contents of the file…?

I stood there, clutching the set of keys to my chest, feeling oddly emotional. Why, though? Why should it matter to me whether or not my master trusted me? He was just the man I was working for. A man who had yet to pay me my first wages at the end of the month. Whether or not he trusted me was immaterial, as long as I got the money, right?

Yet still, the fact that he was opening up to me touched something deep within me. I felt that maybe, just maybe, he might be starting to respect me. If not as a woman, then at least as an intelligent human being with a head on its shoulders, provided I wore trousers.

Taking the ring of keys, I locked both doors to my office and started the mind-numbing process of changing.

You don"t think there's anything more difficult than getting out of a corset and crinoline? Try getting out of a corset and crinoline which are broken and bent in strange angles in at least a dozen places. I felt like a cat trying to squeeze myself through a labyrinth of rat holes.

When I finally stood only in my underwear, it was a relief. I was just about to reach for Uncle Bufford's trousers when a knock came from the door, and the door rattled as someone pushed against it.

I almost jumped out of my skin.

‘Y-yes?' I asked, not sounding very manly at all. I cleared my throat and tried again. ‘Yes?'

‘Mr Linton? It's me, Mr Stone. May I come in?'

‘Err… not as such, no.'

‘Why? Are you busy?'

No, I'm standing around in women's underwear, which, apart from being pretty indecent, makes it more or less obvious that I'm a girl!

‘Um… yes, that's it. Very busy. Very, very, very busy in fact.'

‘I see. Well then, I won't disturb you any further. I just wanted to ask if you found the keys all right?'

‘Yes, I did.'

Yes I did, thank God, or else my office door wouldn't be locked right now, and you'd be staring at me in my drawers!

‘Very well. I understand you're leaving now, Mr Linton?'

‘Yes.'

‘And Mr Ambrose?'

‘He's very, very busy, too, Mr Stone.'

‘I see. Well, I'll leave you alone then. Till tomorrow.'

‘Yes, goodbye, Mr Stone.'

I heard him moving away and let out the breath I had been holding. I'm not sure what Mr Ambrose's reaction would be to someone discovering my true gender, but he wouldn't be jumping up and down with joy, that much I could tell. Maybe he would be jumping up and down on me instead, wearing iron-shod boots.

Though he probably would shrink from such a display of emotion. He would get Karim to do it. The big fellow would be excellently suited for the task and all too happy to oblige. For some reason, the thought brought a smile to my face.

Grabbing Uncle Bufford's trousers, I dressed in my unusually usual outfit again and left the office, locking the door behind me. Not that I thought somebody might steal my fountain pen, it just was a good feeling. My space. My door. My key. Stuffing the keys securely into my deepest pocket, I began the long descent down to street level.

I didn't call a cab. Luxuries like that would have to wait until I actually received my first pay cheque. Instead I walked home slowly, enjoying for the first time in my life the feeling I had done something useful. No sitting around trying to knit or sew, no silly whirling around in a ballroom full of overdressed nitwits. I had been out there in the real, rough world. And I would return there soon.

My exultation lasted all the way home. As I went in through the garden door and into the shed to change, slowly my feelings of joy waned and I suppressed a yawn. God, my legs hurt from all that running over roofs. The real world was pretty tiring.

As I approached the front door, another concentrated wave of tiredness hit me. Mr Ambrose had been right, today had been exhausting. I needed some rest, and I needed it quick. Fortunately, nothing was likely to get in the way of that. My aunt was sure to be too busy with my other sisters to care if I was lazy and slept through the afternoon.

That was when I first heard the excited chatter from inside the house. Strange… It sounded like we had a visitor. But who would come to visit us? I had to be mistaken.

The moment I stepped into the house, though, the door to the salon flew open and my aunt appeared in the doorway. ‘There she is!' She exclaimed, a triumphant smile on her face. ‘And just in time. Lilly, my dear, I have a wonderful surprise for you!'

Oh-oh. That didn't sound good.

‘What surprise?' I yawned, and blinked furiously to keep my eyes open.

‘Look who has come to visit you,' my aunt replied smiling, and waved invitingly to somebody in the room. Footsteps could be heard, and then, directly beside my aunt's triumphant visage, appeared the arrogantly smiling face of Lieutenant Ellingham.

He bowed.

‘Miss Linton. How delighted I am to see you again.'

I straightened, and my eyes narrowed. His arrogant smile widened.

Delighted, eh? We'll see whether you still feel like that in five minutes, Mister…

*~*~**~*~*

‘… killed every last one of the savages with my own hands. They were fearsome enemies, but my superior fighting skills struck fear into their hearts which they could not overcome.'

Lieutenant Ellingham thumped his chest theatrically.

‘At last, only the big grey beast was left, and so I charged forward and stuck my sabre right into its belly! It collapsed dead on the spot!'

The lieutenant finished his narration with a flourish of the arm, simulating a sabre thrust.

‘Marvellous! Simply marvellous!' My aunt, Maria, Anne and Lisbeth applauded enthusiastically, and even Ella moved her hands together a bit, though by no means so forcefully that it could actually be heard.

‘What an impeccable display of courage,' Anne proclaimed, fluttering her eyelashes at the lieutenant. ‘To think that you all alone went up against a raiding party of twenty-one savages, and charged such a terrifying monster as an elephant! This is the kind of bravery that made the British Empire what it is today!'

‘Yes, really amazing,' I yawned.

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. ‘Praise from you, Miss Linton? That is a rare gift indeed. Thank you very much. I am delighted to hear you appreciate my bravery in the face of danger.'

I had to work hard to keep a smirk off my face. ‘That's not really what I was talking about. I think it's amazing that you're sitting here alive.'

‘That is due to his bravery,' Maria pointed out, which the lieutenant acknowledged with a graceful bow of the head.

‘More to a miracle,' I disagreed. ‘You stabbed the elephant into its belly? From below?'

‘Yes?' The lieutenant's voice was suddenly cautious. I had to say that up to this point the conversation had rather bored me. But now I was enjoying myself.

‘You see, that's what I find so amazing,' I mused. ‘The elephant collapsed, and you were standing right underneath. Yet you are sitting here alive on our couch and are not flattened to some part of the Indian soil as lieutenant-pancake.'

‘Err… well… the elephant fell to the side?'

‘To the side?' I asked sweetly. ‘Onto the savages that you were still busy fighting off?'

‘Yes.'

‘The ones you said you had already killed before the elephant attacked?'

‘Err…'

‘Be silent, child,' my aunt chided me. Then, turning to Lieutenant Ellingham, she continued: ‘You must excuse my niece, Sir. She has led a very sheltered life and knows little of the ways of the world. Certainly she is totally inexperienced in such manly activities as you have described.'

He nodded graciously. ‘That is no problem, Madam. Maybe,' he said, throwing a suggestive glance in my direction, ‘I could show her a few manly activities. Then she would not be so ignorant anymore.'

I thought I was going to be sick.

‘Which brings me to the point of my visit,' Lieutenant Ellingham continued, rising and extending his hand to me. ‘Which is to enquire whether Miss Lillian Linton would wish to go for a walk with me. There is a beautiful park outside your house, and I am sure there are some things she has not seen there before.'

There were various possible answers to that:

Oh yes, of course there are things I haven't seen yet in the park. I've only lived here for over a decade of my life.

Or:

Hey, you can talk to me directly, you know! I'm right here in the room.

Or better yet:

Go for a walk with you? I'd rather go for a walk with a drunken French sailor!

But then I saw my aunt's face over the lieutenant's shoulder and decided on the more diplomatic:

‘Um… I don"t know. I think I know my way around the park pretty well already. But thanks for the offer.'

‘That is no matter,' he said, waving my answer away. ‘It is not the park I wished to see when coming here, but you. It is not the lush green trees I wish to enjoy, but your company, Miss Linton.'

Ugh! So much for diplomacy!

He extended his hand farther. Over his shoulder my aunt glared at me, promising death and destruction if I made the wrong choice now. Wasn't there any way to get out of this?

Then I thought: Come on, it's only a walk. It's not like he's asking you to marry him. Well, not yet anyway. What harm can a walk do?

Preferring not to think about the answer to that question, I took his hand and faked as believable a smile as possible.

‘I would be delighted to take a walk through the park,' I told him, neglecting to mention that the same wasn't true for having him along as company.

He took my hand. It felt moist and alien. Holding it was a repellent feeling, like having a bug crawl up your arm. But I smiled bravely as I let him lead me out of the room. At least this would keep my aunt happy.

As we left the room, I couldn't help a thought shooting through my head: how very, very different this hand felt from that of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

*~*~**~*~*

‘…and I was standing there, you see? Two hundred feet away from the Indian, and even farther away from the young lady he was running towards, knife in hand. I knew I couldn't reach him or her in time. Yet I also knew that I was a crack shot.'

Personally, I would have called him a crackpot rather than crack shot.

I was walking beside Lieutenant Ellingham through Green Park. His promise to show me new spots in the park was long forgotten. He was far too busy entertaining me with stories of his supposed adventures in India. So far, he had killed about three hundred seventy-nine so-called ‘savages,' thirteen elephants, five lions and one giraffe. Quietly I wondered whether he actually thought me stupid enough to believe above one word in ten.

‘I took out my rifle, aimed, and bamm! He lay dead on the ground, shot through the heart. The medicine man of his tribe had never seen a gun shot before. So he and all the other Indians believed I was a god of some sort and freed the young lady when I commanded it.'

‘Excuse me?' I interrupted. ‘Medicine man? Tribe? I thought you were talking about Indians that live in India, not the kind that live in America. Only those have medicine men, or tribes.'

‘Oh, really?' The lieutenant shrugged. ‘Well, maybe he was on holiday in India. These savages are strange people, you know?'

‘I can think of some that are even stranger,' I muttered, but he either didn't hear it or wasn't very well-versed in sarcasm.

After that, he didn't start telling any adventure stories again. Well, he had talked for the last half hour pretty much non-stop. Maybe it was time I contributed something to the conversation. But what could I say apart from, ‘You may have a square jaw and a whitewashed smile, but you are the most odious man I ever met. Get the hell away from me right now, because I never ever wish to see you again. And by the way, I don"t like you, and you smell funny.'

The face of doom, otherwise known as the face of my aunt, appeared in front of my inner eye, staring at me ferociously. Oh well, I guess I could at least make a tiny effort to be civil.

‘Err… you seem to have led a very exciting life so far. Rescuing ladies… shooting Indians… must be fun. I mean the rescuing of ladies, not the other part.'

He sighed like a wise, worldly man talking to a silly student.

‘Actually, the shooting is the part that is more fun. The ladies get tiresome over time. They are always so overwhelmed by thankfulness. So many ladies have shown interest in me that I have really grown tired of what is called the fair sex.'

‘Oh well, if that is so, you're probably very tired of my society,' I jumped at the opportunity. ‘I should leave you immediately.'

‘On the contrary.' Shaking his head, he turned to me with an arrogant grin on his face. ‘It is that fact that made me come to you.'

What?

‘You're so unlike the other ladies,' he continued. ‘Other ladies sigh and whimper to get a man's attention. You on the other hand - you are feisty! You insult me and push me back - but I've figured you out! It's your way of saying you're attracted to a man.'

What the…!

‘It's no great surprise, I suppose.' He took a step closer to me, his eyes gleaming with some dark emotion that made me shiver all over. I remembered my earlier thoughts about what could possibly happen on a walk in the park, and the unwelcome idea occurred to me that I might be about to find out first hand.

I didn't like the expression on his face, not at all. He no longer looked like the pleasant, if slightly arrogant, young man of a few minutes ago. He now looked like a very, very nasty arrogant young man. And his eyes were fixed on me.

Desperately I looked around for anybody, but we were standing hidden behind a clump of trees. No help was in sight.

‘You've had no proper upbringing, aren't even a proper lady,' he was saying. ‘But that actually could make you quite fun, you know? Ladies are very restrained, but I'm sure you would be more open to… amusement.'

Taking another step forward, he leaned towards me. I didn't even know where it came from. My hand just to seem to appear out of thin air and make contact with his cheek.

Slap!

‘Don't you dare touch me!' I snarled.

I thought maybe he would be angry. Or he would back off. Instead, he laughed.

‘That's what I'm talking about,' he chuckled, his eyes dancing. ‘It's really been getting annoying, so many girls throwing themselves at me because of my good looks and my position as an officer. You're different. A challenge.'

‘I'll give you a challenge if you don"t back off!' I threatened, raising my hand again. Taking a leisurely step backwards, he cocked his head.

‘Plus, you're from a good family. Most of those stuck-up mothers at Sir Philip's ball wouldn't have let a poor soldier like myself near one of their daughters. But your aunt… I think she'd be happy if she could convince a beggar to take you. If I made you mine, she'd be delighted - and so would I. Granted, you don"t have money, and neither does your family, so the dowry won't be worth marrying for, but in the military a good name is more often of greater worth. You have that, so you'll suit me admirably. The only thing that remains is for me to make it official.'

‘Official? What are you talking about?'

‘Why, marrying you of course.'

My eyeballs almost dropped out of my head. ‘Marriage? I'm not getting married to anybody! And most certainly not to you!'

He sneered. ‘What? You'd prefer a covert thing between us? I wondered whether that might be more your style.'

Covert thing? What kind of covert thing? The glint in his eyes told he was talking about something dark, something far less innocent than my little sister's secret meetings in the back garden. I had no idea what exactly and, honestly, I didn't want to find out.

‘But I'm afraid I can't help you there,' he continued. ‘I'm a gentleman and unfortunately have to behave as such. I shall have to wait until we are married before I can start taming you.'

‘Go now,' I said, making my voice icy in my best imitation of Rikkard Ambrose. ‘Right now! Or I will scream until the entire city of London comes running!'

He hesitated - then shrugged.

‘Very well, just as you like.' The bastard had the audacity to wink at me! ‘But I will get you, make no mistake. And you know you'll enjoy it when I do.'

I wondered whether there were smaller, feminine versions of that handy cane-sword that Mr Ambrose had used the other day. If so, I was going to buy myself one with my very first pay cheque. Occasions like this required a weapon more effective than a parasol.

‘Who do you think you are?' I hissed at him. ‘You can't just say such things to me! Who the hell do you think you are?'

‘I?' He raised an arrogant eyebrow. ‘I am your suitor.'

‘My what?'

‘Your suitor. I want you, and I'm going to get you one way or another.'

‘No you won't! Not when I tell my family what you dared to say to me!'

‘Oh really?' His eyebrow wandered up another inch. ‘I have witnessed how very, um… dear you are to your aunt. Whom do you think she will believe? Bright, brilliant young Lieutenant Ellingham or a niece who can't even behave herself properly at her first ball?'

He raised his hat to me and made a slight, mocking bow.

‘Good day to you, Miss Linton. I look forward to seeing you again.'

And he walked away.

*~*~**~*~*

Blast! If only he hadn't vanished that quickly! I might have punched him! Or bitten him! Or…

All right. I admit it. The thoughts that ran through my head as I walked through the streets of London, towards home, weren't the most romantic ones for a girl to whom a man had just as good as proposed. But then, it hadn't been the most romantic quasi-proposal. In fact, even I, who was definitely not an expert on quasi-proposals, could say that it had been about as romantic as a bucket of vomit.

Which, by the way, was also a very fitting description of my suitor.

‘Bloody bastard! Oh, the next time I see him, I'll… I'll…'

I couldn't even find the words. Maybe I would have to sneak into the room where Mr Ambrose was holding Simmons, to get some inspiration on torture.

‘Something spiky… with wicked screws, maybe!'

Only when I got home and saw my aunt's delighted harpy-smile as she looked at the latest flowers Lieutenant Ellingham had sent did I fully realize the son of a bachelor had been right.

Bugger! She really expects me to marry him!

A shiver ran down my back when I also realized that I was not in a good position to do anything against it. I was still under age. My legal guardians could dispose of me however they wished - and my aunt was very efficient in the disposal of rags, hen droppings, penniless relatives and other garbage.

Even were I already an adult, what could I do? I was dependent on others to pay for the food I ate, the bed I slept in and the roof over my head. It was those people who ruled my life. I had no money of my own.

Or at least, the thought shot through my head, that was true until very recently.

‘Thank the Lord!' I breathed.

Never before had I been so glad that I had run into a certain stone-faced businessman that day on the way to the polling station. Never had I been so glad that I had taken the leap towards my own freedom. And never ever had I been so grateful towards Mr Ambrose. He could have turned me away. In fact, there had probably been nothing he wanted to do more. Yet instead he had kept his word and given me a chance.

My fingers travelled into the folds of my petticoats where the ring of keys was artfully concealed. More than that: he had given me his trust.

And soon, hopefully, he would give me some money. I just had to hold out until then.

Head held high, I started up the porch stairs, past my aunt, ignoring her chattering. Now that my harrowing encounter with the lieutenant was over, my exhaustion returned with renewed force. I needed to lie down, and quickly, or I would just keel over and take a nap on the floor.

Up in my room, Ella was waiting for me with a half-anxious, half-happy expression on her face. I walked past her and let myself fall face-downward onto my mattress, not caring about the protesting squeak from my hoop skirt.

‘So…' I heard Ella's hesitant voice from behind me, ‘did you have a nice walk with Lieutenant Ellingham?'

‘No,' I groaned into my pillow.

There was a pause. Then:

‘Um… this might be a silly question… but is he the young man you went to meet the other day? The one you have feelings for?'

With a gargantuan effort, I raised my head from my pillow and turned to stare at my little sister.

‘You're absolutely right.'

‘Oh!' Ella's expression brightened.

I let my head slump back onto the pillow. ‘That was a silly question.'

‘Ah.' Her face fell again.

‘Honestly, Ella! Me and that blighter? How could you possibly think I have any feelings for him whatsoever, apart from abject horror and disgust?'

‘He wasn't that bad,' Ella tried to console me. ‘Although I must admit… I was very frightened by the way he treated those people and that poor grey animal. What did he call it again? An elephont?'

‘Elephant,' I corrected.

‘Exactly.' Ella shook her head sadly. ‘I mean, did he have to stab it? He could have tried talking to it or petting it. Grandmother's chickens always let me pet them when I visit, and they're perfectly friendly if you show them some affection.'

‘Don't worry,' I moaned and rolled over on my side to face her. ‘Do not let the poor elephant's plight torture your heart. There was no fight in India, ergo there was no elephant and no stabbing in the belly.'

‘What?' A frown appeared on Ella's lovely forehead. ‘But Lieutenant Ellingham said…'

I gave a sigh. ‘I will tell you a great secret, Ella, if you promise not to tell anybody.'

‘Oh… of course!'

‘Not everything a man says to a woman must necessarily be true.'

I sank deeper into my pillow, snuggling into the soft down feathers. I knew it would take Ella a while to adjust to the concept of such a thing as a dishonourable or lying man - certainly enough time for me to get a nap. So I slowly drifted off into the realm of Morpheus, where I happily chased thieves over rooftops, cut onions into slices, and didn't have to worry about catastrophes such as an impending engagement to the biggest bastard of London.

*~*~**~*~*

My eyes fluttered open. The first thing I saw was Ella, who was sitting beside me on the bed, staring down at her fingers in deep contemplation. When she noticed I was awake, she looked at me.

‘You mean… you mean the lieutenant was lying?'

I sneaked a glance at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Two hours and twenty-six minutes. Not bad.

‘Exactly. You've figured it out. Bravo!'

‘But… that's horrible!'

I shrugged. ‘Well, depends how you look at it. Lying can be quite useful sometimes, you know. For instance when there's something going on in your life you don"t want anybody to know.'

Ella's cheeks turned as red as a ripe tomato. I had been thinking of my new occupation when speaking, but it was clear that her thoughts were on something very different, or rather somebody.

‘Um… I suppose so,' she managed.

‘And? Tell any good lies lately?' I inquired lightly, propping myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her.

‘No! I didn't. Definitely not!'

‘I see.' As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Ella, who seemed desperate to change the subject, blurted out:

‘But what will you do? I mean, if Lieutenant Ellingham isn't the young man you've been seeing, what will you do? If he continues to pay attention to you, Aunt Brank will expect you to marry him, you know.'

‘Oh yes, I know. But then, that's no surprise since Aunt Brank would expect me to marry any willing creature in trousers who walked through the door downstairs, just to get me out of the house.' I rolled my eyes.

‘What will you do?' Ella repeated, anxiously. ‘How will you reconcile yourself to having to say goodbye to your true love and marry somebody else?'

Oh right! Ella was still convinced that every time I went to work, I was going on a secret rendezvous with my mystery lover. Opening my mouth, I was about to explain to her that I didn't have and never would have a love in my life when it occurred to me that this would raise a whole lot of questions regarding my frequent absence. So I just said:

‘Believe me, I'm not going to marry that blighter.'

Once again, Ella seemed to have problems with grasping my thought processes. ‘But… Aunt wants you to marry him!'

‘Yes.'

‘And you're not going to?'

‘No! You can bet your best silk parasol on that!'

‘But… that would mean… defying Aunt.'

I clapped my hands. ‘Bravo! You didn't even need two hours to figure that one out.'

‘Tell me, my dear sister.' Eagerly, Ella knelt down on the bed beside me and clasped my hands. ‘How would you do it? How would you bring yourself to walk up to her and say: "No! I do not want to marry this man, for my heart belongs to another!"?'

‘Err… well, I would just do it.' Apart from the my-heart-belongs-to-another part.

‘Oh Lilly!' Ella embraced me with all the strength and sisterly affection she was capable of. And while she didn't have much of the former, she had plenty of the latter. ‘You're so brave. How I wish I had your courage. And you will truly rebel? Set yourself against this marriage with everything you have?'

I simply nodded and held her tightly, wishing so much that I could help her in her predicament. But unfortunately, she would have to find the strength herself.

‘Yes,' I said. ‘I will not marry Lieutenant Ellingham.'

‘Oh Lilly!' She hugged me once more. ‘Tell me about him, will you?'

‘About who? The lieutenant?'

‘No, not him! About your young man! The one you see on your rendezvous! The one whose love inspires you to such bravery!'

My mouth dropped open. Never in a million years had I expected that my brilliant excuse would backfire like this. What the hell could I tell her? I had absolutely no idea. I had absolutely no interest in men. What were women supposed to find attractive in men? Why would they lose their mind and fall in love with one?

Dear Lord, I had to tell her something, but what? Who from my acquaintance could I pick as my supposed lover? The only men I'd known for more than a couple of moments were my father, who was dead for years, and my Uncle Bufford, both of whom were, for obvious reasons, not good candidates. Should I pick one of the men from Sir Philip's ball? But to be honest, I couldn't remember a single one of them. Men just never seemed very important to me. They slipped my mind as soon as I left their company.

Well, except perhaps for one. A face appeared in front of my eyes.

‘Um… well…' I began.

‘Come on,' Ella urged. ‘Don't be shy.'

‘Err… he's tall, with dark hair and dark, sea-coloured eyes, almost black.'

She clapped her hands eagerly, like an excited little girl. ‘Oh, that sounds so dreamy and mysterious.'

‘You can say that again!' Too mysterious for my liking… he still hadn't breathed a word about the contents of that infernal file. Could there be something government-related in it? But if anything, Mr Ambrose struck me as the type who did what he wanted without reference to any government, his own or anybody else's.

‘Is he good-looking?'

‘W-what?' I resurfaced from my thoughts. Caught off guard, the words escaped me: ‘Yes, he is, definitely.'

Oh God! What have I just said?

But if I was being honest, it was true. Blast!

‘He… he has a chiselled face, and I mean literally chiselled: angular, and hard as stone. Maybe good-looking isn't even the best word to describe him. Beautiful would be better. A harsh beauty.'

The image of the face in front of my inner eye intensified, and an unwilling smile crept on my face.

‘As for the rest of him… He has a figure like an antique statue, you know? A bit like Myron's Discus Thrower[28], though he would never dream of assuming such an undignified position.' I giggled. ‘He walks around most of the time as if he has an iron rod up his behind. He's very serious, cool and distant, and about as free with his money as Uncle Brank. He always does what he wants, and nasty things happen to people who get in his way.'

Hmm… Perhaps I wasn't doing a very good a job of portraying him as the fellow I was desperately in love with. Shouldn't a lovable man have one good quality, at least? So I hurriedly added: ‘But I think he actually may have a good heart, very, very, very deep down.'

Who knew, it might actually be true. He had taken me on, after all.

But not as a girl, said a nasty little voice in the back of my mind. I shook my head, trying to concentrate.

‘Oh Lilly!' Ella gripped both of my hands with hers. ‘I'm so happy for you! He sounds amazing, like a modern-day Mr Darcy.'

‘Hardly,' I muttered, smirking at the comparison. ‘He wouldn't spend ten thousand pounds on anybody, let alone me.'[29]

Ella's smile only widened. ‘It sounds like you're very fond of him.'

‘Does it?'

My eyebrows shot up. Apparently, I had done a better job than I'd thought. I had completely fooled her and made her believe I was in love with Mr Ambrose. I had no idea my acting skills were this developed. It seemed that male impersonations weren't the only thing I did well in that regard.

‘And his name?' Ella continued eagerly. ‘Tell me, who is he?'

Oops…