‘I love you, Edmund.’
‘Ah. A platonic love, surely, since you are soon to be married?’
‘No! A lover’s love, Edmund. If I could, I would be thine, to have and to hold.’
‘Oh Ella! Come into my arms!’
What the heck? Just ten seconds ago he was egging her on to marry somebody else, and now he wanted them to snuggle? If all lovers behaved like this, they should be summarily committed to lunatic asylums!
Surely, Ella would be too proud and self-respecting to throw herself at a man who had just scorned her?
‘Oh, Edmund, my love!’
No, apparently she wasn’t.
I watched in mingled horror and fascination as she indeed threw herself into his arms, or at least as well as she could with the fence in the way. I wondered how long it was going to take one of them to think of the ladder leaning against the garden shed. Probably a good long time still.
Anyway, both of them seemed to be much too honourable to just throw themselves at each other. I had expected at least some action and was a tiny bit disappointed when they only took hold of each other’s hands and stared into each other’s eyes. I had seen both of their pairs of eyes before. They weren’t that interesting.
‘So you do not simply feel friendship for me?’ Edmund demanded, his voice deep with emotion. ‘There is more?’
A little colour returned to Ella’s cheeks. ‘You know there is.’
‘Yes, but the delight of hearing you say it…’ He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing blissfully. ‘There is no song of angels that is sweeter to my ears.’
Yes. He really read too many romance novels.
My little sister, not in the least repelled by his sappiness, took one of his hands and lightly pressed it to her cheek. Now we were getting somewhere!
‘I love you, Edmund.’
When Edmund opened his eyes again, they looked a little more interesting than before. Certainly more intense.
‘As I love you, Ella, my heart’s delight.’
‘Oh Edmund. You do not know how long I have been waiting for you to say these words to me.’
‘They have lain ready on my tongue forever.’
He pressed her hands again.
‘So you will be mine?’
Suddenly, the colour left Ella’s cheeks again. The radiant smile that had lit up her features until a moment ago became laced with sadness.
‘Edmund, I…’
‘What? What is this? You said you loved me!’
‘I do! I do! But…’
Now there again were tears in Ella’s eyes. She didn’t seem to be able to continue. So Edmund spoke for her, slowly and gravely:
‘But the objections to our love which you so conscientiously explained to me before, still stand. Nothing has changed. The fact that we love each other does not mean that we can be together.’
Ella gave a shaky little nod.
‘What if you told your aunt that you did not love Sir Philip?’
‘I? Defy my dear, dear aunt? Oh please!’ She clasped her hands in supplication. ‘Please don't even make me think of such a thing!’
‘Then what do we do?’ he asked, sounding lost.
‘I don't know!’
Behind the bushes, I bit my lower lip, deep in thought. Well, I didn’t know either. But I’d be damned if that was going to stop me from doing something! At least I had plenty of time on my hands. My new job with Mr Ambrose was not very demanding. He didn’t seem to want anything from me at all.
Had I only known then how wrong I was about that.
The Discovery
The next day I noticed that I was quite distracted by Ella’s troubles. Do you want to know how I noticed? It wasn’t that I forgot to go to work, oh no. I forgot to change before going to work and almost walked up to Mr Stone’s desk in a long dress and hoop skirt, announcing myself as ‘Mr Linton’.
That would have been a real scandal for Mr Ambrose to worry about!
I noticed my wrong attire just in time and had to hurry back and change in a wild frenzy. By the time I had run back to Empire House it was already nine o'clock. I hurried up the stairs and into my office, only giving Mr Stone a brief nod in passing. My desperate lungs lacked the air for a proper greeting. Wheezing, I collapsed onto my chair and let my head fall onto the table.
Just then, a message container flew out of the tube with a quiet plink. With the one hand I felt capable of moving I picked it up, opened it and unrolled the message. My eyes focused on the words:
Mr Linton
You are 1 minute and 37 seconds late. If that occurs again, you can consider yourself dismissed.
Rikkard Ambrose
This chap really knew how to give you a warm welcome. For a moment I considered telling him about my sister’s romantic troubles, to make an excuse. But then I decided against it. It would be like trying to explain dancing the polka to a rock in the desert. He just wouldn’t get it.