Hunting for Silence by Robert Thier

The Great Reveal

‘Lill? Lill, what are you doing? You can’t just march over there and—’

‘Of course I can. The pavement is perfectly even and good to walk on. Try it.’

‘That’s not what I meant, Lill! I—’

Ignoring my dear little sister with the consummate skill of an experienced older sibling, I marched up to the door of the neighbour’s house and hammered on the door.

‘Hey, you there! Assorted strummers, jinglers and tinklers! Out with you!’

‘Lill!’

‘What?’

‘Where are your manners?’

‘I left them in my purse at home. The damn things are too heavy to carry around all the time.’

Hurried footsteps approached from the other side of the door. It opened a crack, revealing the anxious, familiar face of a certain young man.

‘Oh, it’s you.’ I smiled, pushing the door open the rest of the way. He stood there in the doorway like a lost puppy, blinking at me and Ella standing on his doorstep. ‘Good. That simplifies things. You’re in love with my little sister, aren’t you?’

‘Um,’ said Edmund, the piano-tuner’s son.

‘Bravo! How very eloquent. Just the kind of intelligent reply I was hoping to get from a future brother-in-law. Are you sure you love her? Really sure? Because if you break her heart, I’ll cut off your bollocks and…well, you don’t really want to know what I’ll do with them afterwards. Are we clear?’

‘Err,’ said Edmund.

‘Spiffing! I’m so glad we’re getting along. I can feel the beginning of a wonderful friendship here. Now, as to this whole marriage thing, I don’t have a lot of time—I have to leave on a little trip soon—so I was hoping we could get it wrapped up in a day or two? I know the two of you like to languish in lovelorn agony for months on end, but I’m afraid I haven’t got time for that anymore. I’ve got other engagements that cannot wait, so you’ll just have to postpone the lovelorn agony until after you’re married. Do you think you can manage that?’

‘Um,’ said Edmund.

‘Wonderful, wonderful. Now, I think my aunt has a dressmaker scheduled to come tomorrow morning, so this whole marriage thing will have to wait to the afternoon. Could you perhaps look in on us at, say, two pm? I’m sure we could get the whole matter wrapped up then. What do you say?’

‘Err…’ said Edmund, ‘Who are you?’

‘Dear me, right, we haven’t been officially introduced yet. Ella?’ I waved at my little sister, who stood beside me, her face for some reason covered by her hands. ‘Explain, will you?’

‘This is my sister, Lilly,’ Ella said in the tone you’d use to say, ‘This is my darling pet dog, Fluffy. He doesn’t bite, trust me, and I’m so sorry he just peed on your carpet.’

‘Oh.’ His eyes went big. ‘So this is…’

‘Yes.’

‘And she really…?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the time you told me about, when she…in public?’

‘Yes, that, too.’

‘Hello?’ I waved a hand in the air. ‘Anyone remember I’m standing right here?’

Shaking himself, Edmund came out of his daze. ‘Of course. Forgive me, Miss Linton, where are my manners?’

‘I don’t know. They’re yours.’

‘Um. Yes. So…you know about the two of us?’

‘Yes.’

He straightened. ‘Well, let me assure you that my intentions are nothing but honourable. I mean to marry your sister.’

‘And how’s that working out so far?’

‘Lilly!’ Ella hissed.

‘What?’ I hissed back. ‘He’s been at it for nearly two years. It’s a legitimate question.’

Edmund, who by now was as red in the face as a virgin tomato on its wedding night, cleared his throat. ‘There have been some difficulties in gaining the consent of her guardians for Ella’s marriage, Miss Linton.’

‘Such as the fact that you haven’t actually asked yet.’

‘Lill!’

‘True, Miss Linton. However, the doorstep is hardly the right place to discuss this. Would you like to come in to have a cup of tea? My parents will be back in half an hour, so I’m afraid you cannot stay long, but—’

‘Oh, half an hour will be plenty of time to wrap this little matter up. I have lots of other things to do today, anyway.’

He stared at me for a moment—then nodded and stepped aside.

‘Very well, Miss Linton. After you.’

I entered the modest home. The brick house was almost an exact replica of Uncle Bufford’s. Whoever had built these things had not possessed a great deal of creativity. Edmund led us to a small sitting room, where we sank into two plush armchairs while he busied himself with the tea kettle in the kitchen. Ella turned her head from left to right, gazing at everything as if this were the Palace of Versailles and we were two poor peasants taken on a tour as a last treat before our execution.

‘What’s the matter?’ I demanded.

‘I…well…it’s just so overwhelming, seeing it for the first time.’

‘Wait a minute…for the first time? You’ve never been here before?’

She looked shocked. ‘Of course not!’

‘You’ve been sneaking around with this fellow for nearly two years, and you’ve never seen the inside of his house? What if he had a collection of previous wives stacked in the cellar?’

‘Lill!’

‘Should I check? Just in case?’

Edmund returned, with two tea cups in his hand and a helpless little smile on his face. ‘Um…one lump of sugar, Miss Linton? Two?’

I took a look at his honest smile on his honest face, stuck between his honest ears.

‘Forget what I said,’ I sighed in Ella’s direction. ‘We don’t need to check.’

We all settled down around the little table in the centre of the sitting room.

‘So, Miss Linton.’ Edmund cleared his throat. ‘Am I to gather from your appearance here that you approve of my interest in your sister?’

‘Not really,’ I told him. ‘I think you’re a bit of a wimp, and she could do much better.’

‘Oh.’

Under the table, Ella gave me a kick.

‘But it’s not really my opinion that matters,’ I continued, kicking back and making her yelp. Ha! Take that. No one bests me in a kicking contest! ‘It’s hers.’

‘True.’ Edmund’s expression brightened. ‘So…do you have a plan to help us?’

They both looked at me like starving bunnies at a gardener specializing in lettuce.

‘Yes, I have. Listen closely.’

And I proceeded to explain to them what I had in mind. When I was finished, they gazed at me with eyes widened by admiration. I’m not ashamed to say I preened a little. It wasn’t often I got to bask in unbridled admiration of my genius.

‘Can it really be that simple?’ Edmund whispered.

‘It can be, and it is.’

They glanced at each other. Without a word, they reached to take each other’s hands, and squeezed in silent agreement. The sight sent an unexpected shard of pain through me, as I remembered a hand that had once held mine like that. A hand that was now far, far away.

Soon, I told myself. You’ll just have to wrap up this little matter, and then….

‘All right,’ my thoughts were interrupted by Edmund, who, for once, sounded uncharacteristically determined. ‘I’ll do it.’

‘Very well.’ Rising, I nodded. ‘Just remember to be at my uncle’s house tomorrow afternoon at two. Oh, and also remember, if you break her heart—’

‘…you shall remove, um…certain extremities. I remember.’

‘Good.’ I beamed. ‘I might learn to like you after all. Now, let’s go, Ella, shall we? I’ve got some preparations to make.’

*~*~**~*~*

The next day, my aunt went insane. Well, she was pretty crazy most of the time, but that morning, she went completely off the rocker, down the stairs and into the metaphorical coal cellar to paint pink guinea pigs on the wall, so to speak.

What, you may ask, had her in such a spin?

You’ve got three guesses. But you’ll probably only need one.

‘Hurry, girls, hurry! If you tarry like this, you’ll never be ready in time for the duchess’s ball! Get moving, get moving!’

The duchess’s ball was all she could talk about. She was racing through the house like a rabid vulture, bonnets and trinkets and ribbons in hand. I hadn’t seen so many pretty non-essentials in this house since a package meant for a seamstress three houses down had accidentally been delivered to our house. Aunt had even, bless her stingy, social-climbing little soul, ordered a dressmaker to come to the house to create a special ball gown for Ella, thus bringing the entire number of dresses owned by her to a staggering total of three. Apparently, my dear aunt had high hopes that her niece’s stunning beauty would attract a great catch.

Did I mention I didn’t get a dress? Surprise, surprise.

‘Would the pink ribbons be better, or the blue?’ Aunt Brank demanded, buzzing around Ella with arms full of accessories.

‘Why not the grey?’ Maria suggested sweetly. ‘They match her personality.’

‘Wonderful!’ I said. ‘Then you can take the green, Maria. They’ll match your envy.’

Maria sent me a death-glare across the room, which I shrugged off without blinking. When you‘ve been glared at by Mr Rikkard Ambrose, an evil twin sister is easy to deal with.

‘Take this one,’ I whispered, pressing another, brand-new blue ribbon into Ella’s hand. ‘It’ll match your eyes.’

‘Lill! You shouldn’t have!’

‘I know. But I like doing stuff I shouldn’t do. It’s so much fun.’ Before she could protest any more, I tied the ribbon into Ella’s hair. Aunt Brank elbowed me out of the way, grabbed the ribbon and shifted it approximately a quarter of an inch to the left.

‘There! Now you look just perfect!’ She beamed. Not the way a lamp does, but involving an actual, honest-to-God smile. Wonders never cease. ‘Looking like that, you’ll be able to catch yourself a baronet, or maybe even a duke!’

Just then, the clock in the corner struck two pm. A moment later, the doorbell rang downstairs. Aunt Brank frowned. ‘Who could that be? It’s not yet time for the dressmaker to arrive, is it?’

‘I’ll go and see,’ I volunteered with an innocent smile.

Poor Aunt Brank. She was so swept up by her dreams that she didn’t even notice the abnormality of me volunteering to do something to help her. She just waved her hand.

‘Yes, yes, do. Ella and I have more important things to take care of.’

I doubt that. Now then…Let’s have some fun.

Turning to go, I winked at Ella. She nearly toppled off the stool she was standing on for her dress fitting. Her face was alternately flushing and draining of colour.

‘Hold still, girl! What is the matter with you?’

‘N-nothing, Aunt. Absolutely nothing.’

Grinning, I sauntered down the stairs. This was going to be interesting.

Downstairs, I opened the door to find a sweating piano-tuner’s son on the doorstep.

‘You look a little flushed,’ I commented. ‘Have you changed your profession to plumber?’

He eyed me dubiously. ‘It just occurred to me…if I marry Ella, I’m going to have you as sister-in-law, aren’t I?’

I gave him my most magnificent smile. ‘Indeed.’

‘And there’s no way around it?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. Mhm. Well…’ He swallowed, hesitated—and nodded. ‘Well, lead on. Where are they?’

‘Upstairs. Follow me.’

He did. At a safe distance.

When we entered the room upstairs, nobody glanced our way at first. But then Lisbeth turned to reach for another ribbon and caught sight of Edmund. Her eyes widening, she tugged at Anne’s sleeve. Anne turned, an annoyed expression on her face, which melted into curiosity when she caught sight of the newcomer, and instantly switched to malignant delight when she saw his gaze fastened on Ella. Quickly, she tugged Maria’s sleeve, and soon, the whole room was staring at us – except for Aunt Brank. She was far too deeply lost in dreams of social aspirations.

‘Oh yes, Ella, my dear! With this dress you’ll catch yourself a really remarkable man! Only, make sure not to focus too much on wealth, and more on position. Money is there one day and gone the next, but a seat in the House of Lords is forever! You can’t go wrong with…What’s the matter, girl? Why aren’t you listening? What are you staring at like th—?’

Finally, she saw him. Her eyes narrowed.

‘Who are you?’

You had to admire her for achieving such a level of callous carelessness. We’d had the same neighbours for the last ten years, and she still didn’t know their names.

Edmund cleared his throat. ‘My name is Edmund, Ma’am. Edmund Conway. I live next door.’

‘Then what are you doing here?’

If she’d hoped to get rid of him by being rude, she was about to be disappointed. Stiffening his spine, Edmund met her gaze head-on.

‘I’ve come to ask for your niece’s hand in marriage.’

Aunt Brank blinked. Then her eyes went back and forth between Edmund and me—and a smile spread across her face. Twice in one day? I had to remember to mark today red in the calendar.

‘By all means, take her hand, and the rest of her. When will she be out of the house?’

Edmund’s eyes widened, and his head snapped around to stare at me. I might have been a bit offended by the undisguised horror in his expression if I wasn’t close to bursting out laughing.

‘Um…I’m afraid you misunderstand me, Mrs Brank.’

‘Don’t tell me that you’re planning on a long engagement. If Lillian’s going to marry, I’m going to rent her room out, and I need it quickly.’

‘Err, no, Ma’am. That’s not what I was referring to. I meant that it’s not Miss Lillian I wish to marry.’

The smile vanished from Aunt Brank’s face. ‘Oh. Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’

‘And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?’

‘No, Ma’am. I wish to marry Miss Ella.’

In an instant, my aunt’s demeanour shifted. Where, a moment before, she had been glowing with anticipation, she now switched from -cipation to -pathy.

‘Are you a duke?’

Edmund’s honest eyebrows shot up. ‘A duke? No.’

‘A marquess? Earl?’

‘No.’

‘Viscount? Baron? Some other kind of lord?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Then what are you?’

‘I, um, am training to become a piano tuner.’

‘A piano…out!’

‘Pardon, Ma’am?’

Raising her hand, she pointed a trembling finger at the door. ‘Out! Out of this house, now! You’ll marry Ella over my dead body!’

‘How kind of you,’ I took the opportunity to cut in. ‘Over there is a nice, open window. It should be quite high enough to bash your head in.’

My aunt gave me a dour look.

‘This is your doing, isn’t it.’

I tried to look innocent. Unfortunately, it was an art I had never completely mastered.

‘Well, whatever you’re up to, missy, it stops here! It’s not you who has the power to decide Ella’s future. It’s me! And I’m saying no.’

Edmund’s face paled. But before he could lose what remained of his courage, I gave my aunt a smile and fired back.

‘Actually, that’s not entirely true, is it? If there is someone who could decide, it is Uncle Bufford. After all,’ I said and internally begged forgiveness from all the feminists who had gone before me, ‘he is the man of the house, isn’t he?’

Gertrude nodded. Lisbeth nodded. Quickly, Ella inclined her head. Even Anne and Maria managed a grudging nod.

My aunt opened her mouth—then closed it again. Her eyes flashed with venom. Ha! I had hoisted her on her own petard. Opening the door, I performed a bow.

‘Gentlemen first.’

A slightly dazed Edmund walked through, followed by a fuming aunt, a pale Ella, and a gaggle of curious sisters. We marched down the corridor, coming to a halt in front of Uncle Bufford’s room. Raising my hand, I knocked.