Storm and Silence

by Robert Thier

  ‘What’s the matter, Sir Philip?’ Maria asked, breathless - maybe a bit more breathless than absolutely necessary. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘On the contrary, my dear, something is right.’ He beamed at all of us. ‘Remember that I told you of this special guest who would be here tonight?’

  They all nodded. The black pit in my stomach grew by leaps and bounds. My knees wobbled.

  ‘Yes, of course we remember.’ Anne’s eyes had become very large. ‘You don't mean…’

  ‘…He’s here!’ Sir Philip triumphantly finished. ‘I have just bumped into him. I’ve known him for some years, and I’m sure he’ll sacrifice a few minutes of his valuable time for my sake. Ladies, it will be my pleasure to introduce you to one of the most wealthy and eminent personages of the British Empire.’

  I cleared my throat. ‘Um… do you really think we should waste the valuable time of such a man?’ Cautiously, I started edging backwards. Maria threw me a venomous look. Apparently, she was already determined to conquer the heart of this mighty, mysterious man.

  Oh my dear sister, if you only knew…

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted to meet all of you. Come, come.’ Without further ado, Wilkins took me and Ella by the hand and started leading us towards the windowed front of the ballroom. In his boundless enthusiasm he didn’t even notice that I was digging my heels into the ground and he more or less had to drag me across the ballroom.

  Bloody hell! Let go of me! I don’t want to see him! I can’t! Not in a dress! He’ll… Blast, I don’t know what he’s going to do, but he’s going to do something!

  But for a weedy man with a flower fixation, Sir Philip was surprisingly strong. In spite of my resistance, I was towed forward.

  Others were not so reluctant. Lisbeth, Anne and Maria were giggling and whispering with each other, hard on our heels. Even Ella and Gertrude displayed a modicum of excitement. And as for my aunt… she was practically bursting! Golden coins were shining in her eyes instead of pupils.

  ‘Please, Sir Philip…’ I tried to wrest my hand from his grip. ‘I would feel embarrassed, meeting such a great man.’

  ‘Nonsense. Whyever would you?’

  Because unlike you, I know what he keeps chained up in his cellar!

  ‘Because… because I am a very modest person, that’s why! And very shy!’

  Turning her head towards me, Ella gave me a look of pure incredulity. She almost forgot to look where she was going and stumbled over the hem of her own dress. I suppose I couldn’t blame her. She was my sister, after all, and knew me well.

  ‘Oh, if that’s the only reason, you do not need to worry,’ Sir Philip assured me. ‘My friend’s manners are perfectly unassuming and charming.’

  What?

  I was so surprised by that description that I actually stopped struggling for a moment, and my knightly tugboat was able to drag me the rest of the way.

  We arrived at a tightly-packed group of individuals. Mostly they were men - the most expensively dressed men I had ever seen, in midnight-black tailcoats and brilliant waistcoats with golden embroidery. They were centred around somebody we couldn’t see, all talking excitedly.

  For one last time I tugged at my hand, desperately trying to get away. But that blasted Wilkins held my hand firmly. There was no escape.

  Wilkins tapped the shoulder of one of the men who were barring the way.

  ‘Would you be so kind as to step aside for a moment, please?’

  No! Don’t be kind! Be mean! Be rude, please! Be bloody impertinent and stay where you are!

  ‘I would like to introduce these ladies to my honoured friend.’

  No! Bloody hell, no!

  In spite of my internal pleading, the men in front of us parted. Out from between them stepped another man. I blinked in surprise. He was lean and he was tall, just like Mr Ambrose - but there was no way this man could be mistaken for my employer. He had longish blonde hair that was combed back in elegant waves, a slightly curvy, hawk-like nose and light, steel-blue eyes.

  Even if all this could have been faked and underneath that inviting exterior somewhere lurked the brooding self I had suspected to find here, there was one characteristic which definitely identified this man as somebody other than Mr Ambrose: he had a broad, inviting smile on his face.

  ‘Ah, good evening, Wilkins. What a pleasure to see you again.’ The blonde man bowed to Ella’s admirer, who in turn bowed back. ‘And who, if I may ask, are these lovely ladies you have brought with you?’

  His voice, too, was nothing like Mr Ambrose's. It sounded smooth and eloquent, like a public speaker who could move whole crowds, or maybe a young, dashing general who by his voice alone could persuade men to follow him into battle. For some reason I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.

  ‘Of course, where are my manners?’ Wilkins let go of my hand so he could point us out in turn. ‘Lord Dalgliesh, may I present Mrs Brank, Miss Linton, Miss Linton, Miss Linton, Miss Linton, Miss Linton and Miss Linton. Ladies, this is Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh.’

  He bowed to each of us in turn, slowly and elegantly.

  ‘I am charmed. Who knew that such bewitching company would await me at this ball.’

  It hadn’t escaped my notice that Wilkins had introduced us to him and not the other way around. Normally, men were introduced to women. For it to be done in reverse, the man must be presumed to be ten times more important than any woman.

  With any ordinary man, this would have sent me into a fit of rage. Yet as Lord Dalgliesh bowed to me and for a moment I met his steel-blue gaze, I knew without doubt that this was no ordinary man.

  There was an aura about him, a presence that bespoke greatness. I felt as though those steel-blue eyes could analyse every bone in my body and gaze into the darkest recesses of my soul. Which was complete bilge, of course. My soul didn’t have any dark recesses! Did it?

  I was ripped from the contemplation of my soul by my loving sister Maria, who shoved me out of the way to be closer to her target.

  ‘It is I who am charmed to meet you, My Lord. Tell me how it is that, though I have been a frequent visitor to many balls in the city, I have never yet had the pleasure of making your acquaintance? Such a great lord as yourself should surely be the life and soul of every ball.’

  Bravo, Maria, bravo! I really had to admire her. She had flattered him, depicted herself as a worthy object of his undying love, fished for information, and flattered him again, and that all in one sentence. She really knew how to catch her fish. Only I had a suspicion this one would prove to be a little bit too big for her nets.

  Lord Dalgliesh gave a light, pleasant laugh. ‘The matter is susceptible of a ready explanation, Miss Linton. I assure you that I am no recluse or social outcast. In fact, I have been away from the metropolis, even from Britain, for a long time now, looking after various matters in the colonies.’ He shrugged apologetically and smiled a smile so charming, it could maybe even have charmed a fairy queen. ‘It was very unfortunate, considering what I was missing here.’

  My sister wasn’t a fairy queen. She didn’t have a hope.

  ‘Oh, Lord Dalgliesh,’ was all she managed to whisper.

  ‘What brought you back?’ Sir Philip wanted to know. ‘I would have thought you had enough out there to keep you busy for a lifetime.’

  Seeing our questioning looks, he added with a smile, ‘Lord Dalgliesh is the main shareholder of the East India Company.’

  Maria’s eyes lit up. If she hadn’t been determined to grab this man for herself before, she was now. Anne seemed to experience similar feelings. I must say, I was pretty floored myself.

  The East India Company… Did such a conglomerate even deserve to be referred to as only a 'company', when it owned and ruled most of the Indian subcontinent, along with its own army and state apparatus? If this man truly was in charge of the East India Company, he was as close to a king as you could get without actually wearing a crown.

  ‘What brought you back?’ Sir Phi
lip repeated the question.

  For a moment, just a moment, the smile on Lord Dalgliesh’s face flickered. It looked almost like what had happened to me not too long ago. But that was hardly likely, was it? What reason could Lord Dalgliesh have for only pretending to smile?

  ‘Oh, no great matter,’ he said, smoothly. ‘Just a little unfinished business with an old friend. There’s a game of chess we need to finish.’

  I frowned.

  ‘You came to England, travelled thousands of miles… just to finish a game of chess?’

  Turning his head towards me, he cranked his smile up a notch. But his steel-blue eyes didn’t lose their cool, assessing look. Blimey, he was faking! A darn sight more convincingly than I, but he was faking.

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ he said, nodding. ‘Though we may use no actual board or figures made from wood.’

  My frown deepened. ‘You’ve lost me, Your Lordship.’

  ‘Do not worry. I can always find you again.’

  He turned his head and started a light, flirtatious conversation with Anne, who leapt at the chance of overtaking her sister. I just stood there, shaking my head. This man was… disturbing. As soon as I could manage without seeming offensive, I excused myself. I wanted to get away from him. He was a darn sight too fascinating for me to want to be anywhere near him. I wanted to be alone - maybe find a quiet refreshment table and a chocolate bar. Gripping Ella by the hand, I started to tug her away with me.

  ‘Come!’ I whispered. ‘It’s time we made ourselves scarce!’

  She threw me a grateful look and let herself be dragged away. On her own, she would never have had the nerve to run from that bloody Wilkins. But being forcibly carried off by her sister, that she could manage all right.

  ‘Can you see where the refreshment tables are?’

  Standing on my toes, I tried to determine a safe route through the jungle of people in evening wear barring our way. But it was no good. As soon as we detached ourselves from one group, we were swallowed up by another and welcomed with friendly voices.

  Blast! It had all been so much easier when I had been impolite to everybody and scowled instead of smiled. Back then, nobody had given me a second glance.

  Oh well, the good old days…

  ‘Miss Linton! And another Miss Linton,’ a gentleman with a huge waxed moustache greeted us. I couldn’t for the life of me remember his name. ‘Hello and welcome. Join our little group.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said another gentleman. ‘I’m sure ladies wouldn’t like to listen to our topic of conversation.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Gentleman A overrode him. ‘These are no modern, unladylike females. I danced with this young lady,’ he inclined his head towards me, ‘myself, and she was a model of charm and modesty.’

  How nice of you. And you were the model of arrogance and idiocy.

  ‘Why, thank you, Sir,’ I said, curtsying. ‘If I may ask, what is it that you were talking of before we came?’

  Gentleman A leaned closer, and so did his companion. ‘Now, I normally wouldn’t be mentioning this in the hearing of any ladies. But I can see you two are sensible, demure and well-bred young girls. So it’s all right.’

  I must admit, he had peaked my interest. I was always interested to know what a person like me wasn’t supposed to know.

  ‘Go on,’ I encouraged.

  ‘Do you know what is going to happen next Wednesday?’ Gentleman A whispered.

  ‘No. What, Sir?’

  ‘There’s going to be a meeting about this confounded nonsense called women’s suffrage.’

  ‘Indeed, Sir?’

  ‘Aye. A few influential gentlemen with press contacts are going to meet with sympathetic scholars and scientists at Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park, and try to put a stop to this codswallop once and for all.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Gentleman B nodded gravely. ‘Imagine, ladies, that there are actually mad creatures that call themselves women and want to make decisions in politics!’

  I shook my head solemnly. ‘You are joking? Can such individuals really exist?’

  Ella stared at me, her eyes wide. Then she blinked and quickly turned back to the men. ‘As for my part,’ she ventured demurely, ‘I find politics incredibly complicated. I am very glad that I do not have to deal with them.’

  Gentleman B nodded energetically and smiled at Ella. ‘Exactly! That is exactly what I was talking about. I can see you are sensible young girls who know their God-given place in the world, just as my friend said. So, no word about this to anyone, hmm?’ He gave us what was supposed to be a fatherly smile. ‘It will remain our little secret.’

  I smiled at him brightly ‘You mean it would be bad if somebody found out about it?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Gentleman B gave a vigorous nod. ‘If those infernal suffragists found out, they could use the meeting to spread their insane message.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Well, every sensible person can see that such a thing must never happen.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Gentleman A entered the conversation again. ‘Women’s brains aren’t big enough for politics.’

  ‘Plus,’ added Gentleman B, ‘they do not have the potential for violence that men have, and that is the basis for all stable political systems, a fact that I have pointed out to Parliament on numerous occasions.’

  My eyes flicked to Gentleman B.

  ‘So it was you who came up with that idea, was it?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ He nodded proudly. ‘Why, have you heard of my theories on female vulnerability?’

  ‘You could say that…’ My eyes narrowed infinitesimally. He didn’t notice. ‘I wonder, Sir, if you would mind stepping into this side-room with me for five minutes. I have something important to demonstrate to you in regard to your theories.’

  ‘By all means. After you, Miss.’

  Five minutes later, I re-entered the ballroom, my hair a bit ruffled, but otherwise perfectly fine. Ella was waiting for me.

  ‘Where is the gentleman who went with you?’ she asked.

  ‘He experienced a sudden desire to leave through the back door.’ I gestured to the side-room from which I had just emerged, a smile turning up one corner of my mouth. ‘I believe something in there might have scared him a little.’

  My smile widened. All that was missing now was a feast for the victorious warrior! Not far away, I spotted a refreshment table with something brown on it that might be chocolate. Yum!

  ‘Come,’ I said, grasping Ella by the hand. ‘We could…’

  ‘Miss Linton? Miss Lilly Linton?’

  I turned and stiffened. In front of me was standing none other than Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh, smiling at me as if I were another continent to be added to his empire.

  ‘It is Miss Lilly, isn’t it?’ The charm-factor of his smile went up another level or two. ‘I’m afraid I might have confused all these lovely Lintons.’

  ‘Yes, um… yes,’ I muttered. ‘My name is Lilly.’

  ‘Very well, Miss Lilly. Would you do me the honour of granting me the next dance?’

  You could have struck me down with a feather. A piece of fluff would probably have sufficed as a cudgel, too. I stood there, mute, staring up at him.

  ‘Lill? Lill!’

  Somebody was tugging on my arm and whispering in my ear. ‘Lill, answer him! For goodness' sake, please answer him!’

  Who… oh yes. Ella. That was my sister’s name, wasn’t it? Lord Dalgliesh. Dancing. Hell’s whiskers! Had he just really asked me to dance with him? The owner of an entire continent wanted to dance with me? Something was wonky in this world!

  From somewhere I heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like my own say: ‘Certainly, Lord Dalgliesh. I would love to dance with you.’

  A hand grasped mine. It was firm but smooth. The skin of an aristocrat who had never done manual labour. As if in a dream, or maybe a nightmare, Lord Dalgliesh led me onto the dance floor with small, elegant steps.

  I heard it around us: voices
hushing, then whispering, the clatter of my aunt’s jaw as it hit the floor. But I didn’t see any of it. I only saw my own feet, and thought: In half a minute, those will have to start dancing.

  Then the music started. Lord Dalgliesh gripped my hand, and suddenly we were whirling around each other with unearthly grace. He was tugging on my hand, throwing me this way and that, too fast for me to do anything about it.

  Ha! I had thought the other men on the dance floor tried to lead when dancing? I had known nothing. This was real leading. Not pushing me forward, but pulling me into following him with masterful moves. I was powerless to resist. Part of me didn’t even want to.

  We went through the forms of the dance, stepping away from each other, marching down the line of dancers. He passed out of my sight. But in passing, I saw the look in his eyes as he gazed at me. In that look was something I hadn’t seen in the face of this paragon of power: curiosity.

  At the end of the line I turned, facing him again. Normally, I went down the line slowly. I was a careful dancer. But he rushed towards me, so I had to follow. Grasping me by my arm, he whirled me around once again.

  I met his curious gaze.

  ‘Why did you ask me to dance with you, Lord Dalgliesh?’

  The question, uttered low but distinctly, was out of my mouth before I knew I had opened it. Some central, unchangeable, nosy part of me must have shoved it past my teeth in spite of the mesmerizing effects of his presence. It was good to know I was still myself somewhere in there.

  We danced another turn.

  ‘Why on earth should I have a special reason?’ he enquired as we passed again. ‘Is not the pleasure of your company enough?’

  ‘Not really, no.’ And he actually gave a little laugh. It rang like bells, pleasant to the ear.

  ‘You do not think much of yourself?’

  It’s not that. It’s just that I think you think a lot more of yourself than you do of me.

  ‘Oh please.’ I looked down, demurely. Tonight was play-acting night, after all. ‘I am only a simple gentry[37] girl, not such an exalted personage such as yourself, My Lord.’

  He flashed his brilliant smile again and began pelting me with a hundred little compliments, all perfectly arranged to melt the heart of any maiden. The compliments themselves did not get to me. The skill which with they were delivered, on the other hand, did.