Hunting for Silence by Robert Thier

Pretty Flowers and their Uses

When we’d first arrived at the Royal Crescent, I’d been hopeful. I thought that we had found a place where Ella could recover. A place where my family would be safe. By the next morning, I wasn’t so sure of that anymore.

‘Lill! Lill, I—unng!’

Ella’s cry woke me up in the middle of the night. Shooting up from the cot I had insisted be brought into her room, I hurried over to her bed.

‘What’s wrong? Are you—Ella!’

She was lying on her side, convulsing and shuddering. Her hands were clamped over her stomach, and probably not because she felt peckish.

‘Lilly, I…’

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. That was no problem. After two years with Mr Ambrose, I was an expert in silent conversation. Striding over to the corner, I grabbed a beautiful enamelled vase filled with lilies, and held it under her nose.

‘Here.’

‘Lil! I can’t possibly—’

‘Oh yes you can. They won’t mind. Trust me, I’m a Lilly, and I’d be honoured to have you puke all over me.’

Another fit shook Ella, but to judge by the noise coming from her throat, this time it wasn’t coming from the urge to vomit.

‘Dammit, Lilly! Not fair! Don’t…can’t laugh…not now!’

A smile tugged at one corner of my mouth. ‘Did I hear you right? Did you, Miss Ella of Properville in the County of Politetington just curse? How shocking! Now go ahead and puke on the lilies.’

‘You…youuumphrgxxmphrrrg!’

Delicately, I looked away while Ella provided some flowers with fresh fertilizer. When the noise finally began to subside, I glanced down. Ella was staring up at me, her eyes wide with fear.

‘What’s happening to me?’

‘I don’t know.’

But I promise you, I’ll do my damnedest to find out! Even if that means I have to drag every single doctor in Bath to you by the scruff of his neck!

I didn’t say that out loud, though. For some strange reason, threats of violence against innocent bystanders had never had the same soothing effect on my little sister as on me. Instead, I just knelt down and took her in my arms.

‘Lill, don’t! What if whatever I’ve got is catching?’

I smiled at her grimly. ‘Then I’d better find a bloody good doctor, hadn’t I?’

Things didn’t improve during the night. Ella’s stomach was more busily rebelling than William Wallace and Spartacus put together. After half an hour, I had to ask for another vase, and then another. The maid was truly touched I liked her room decoration so much I got her in the middle of the night to bring me more.

‘Here you go,’ I told Ella, handing her the newest vase.

‘Lill – why does that one have flowers in it, too?’

I shrugged. ‘I thought as long as you had to vomit, you might as well enjoy the view.’

‘Thanks so murgrxmph…!’

‘You’re welcome.’ I smiled a half-hearted smile and reached forward to pull her hair out of her face.

Sometime around three o’clock, the vomiting finally let up—but not for lack of trying. There simply wasn’t anything left to deposit in flower vases. I sat by my little sister’s bedside, holding her clammy hand as dry heaves wracked her and shudders ran up and down her body.

‘What’s wrong with me?’ she whispered into the darkness.

They hadn’t told her?

One look in her face was enough to answer the question. No, they had not told her! I opened my mouth to utter the dreaded word—but then hesitated. Could I be really sure? After all, I was no doctor. How could I know for certain what sickness had grabbed hold of her?

‘I don’t know.’ Please don’t let it be what I think it is. Please! ‘Here.’ Reaching for a carafe of water on the nightstand, I brought it to her lips.

‘But it would just come up again!’

‘Trust me. If my suspicions are correct, you’ll need it. And if they aren’t…well, then at least the flowers will have been watered.’

‘Has anyone ever told you have a wonderful bedside manner?’

‘Why, thank you. Now, down the hatch, little sister.’

Obediently, she drank. About five minutes later, the flowers were getting a shower. Thus, it went on for most of the night. When, finally, Ella sank into an uneasy slumber, I was about ready to drop. Hardly able to move my limbs, I slunk over to my cot and sank onto the wonderfully, wonderfully soft mattress I would have been complaining about only a few hours earlier. My head had hardly touched the pillow when my eyes started to slide shut and sweet dreams began to enf—

Plink!

—bloody hell! What now?

Plink! Plink!

The window. Some numbskull son of a nitwit was throwing stones at the window in the middle of the night and robbing me of my last few hours of sleep! With steam clouds of rage practically coming from my ears, I marched over to the window. Oh, the tortures I would inflict upon the silly little brat who thought he’d try to amuse himself by playing a practical joke on me! I’d dunk him in fondue and roast him over an open fire! I’d drag him to the nearest boat and ship him to a desert island! I’d…I’d…well, I didn’t exactly know yet what I was going to do, but it was going to be something fabulously nasty!

Reaching the window, I wrenched it up and stuck my head outside. The cool night air only fanned the flames of my rage. Below, I saw something shift in the darkness.

‘You there!’ I hissed. ‘Yes, you, you miserable little pipsqueak! Have you got any idea what time it is, you little pest? Just you wait until I’m down there! I’ll give your backside a tanning so you won’t be able to sit down for a month!’

‘It would be interesting to see you try,’ came a cool, familiar voice from below.

I closed my mouth.

Oh.

Um.

‘Mr…Ambrose?’

‘Indeed. And my backside is currently unavailable.’

Heat rose to my face.

Heck, wait just a minute! Why was I feeling embarrassed? It was him that had some explaining to do.

‘What are you doing at my window? This is your bloody hotel! Don’t you know where the front door is?’

‘My knowledge of hotel-door placement is impeccable. However, since my introduction to your family has been postponed for the present time, I thought it prudent to use more circuitous methods of communication. How is she?’

I was tired. I was ready to drop. But in that moment, I forgot all my anger. He came to me, he woke me up, and the first thing he did was ask after my little sister. I could have kissed him.

‘I’m coming!’

‘Wait, Miss Linton! There’s a d—’

Thud!

‘Ouch! Grx!’

‘—itch under the window.’

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I groaned. ‘Thrice blasted architect!’

Suddenly, arms were around me, helping me to stand. Sure, dexterous hands started picking twigs and leaves out of my hair.

‘I do not think the late John Wood the Younger would appreciate your expletives, Miss Linton.’[48]

‘John Wood the Younger can go and—’

My voice cut off when he pulled me against his chest, encasing me in warmth, love, and everything else I thought we would never find. It was too much. The weight of the whole day came crashing down on me all at once, and I collapsed against him. Maybe I even cried. I let it happen. In the darkness of the night, nobody could see. He would never let anyone see. He just held me, silent strength wrapping around me like a cloak.

‘How is she?’

‘H-how do you think?’

‘That bad.’

‘When can we get a doctor?’

‘I’ve had my people searching for the very best specialist all day. The man is currently some dozen miles to the north.’

‘Is he willing to come?’

‘Willing has nothing to do with it. He’ll be there first thing in the morning.’

That should probably have worried me. Instead, I just smiled in blissful relief.

‘I told the hotel staff—’

‘Don’t worry about the staff. They have been briefed on the situation—or at least as much as they need to know. They will do anything you say, and if they don’t…’

The ominous way in which he ended the sentence said more than a thousand words. I squeezed him, hard.

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me. This counts as your next ten years’ worth of holidays.’

Still squeezing him, I smiled against the thin cotton of his tailcoat. ‘I surmised as much, Sir.’

I felt his lips brush against the top of my head, and suddenly, the bone-crushing need to fall over and sleep which I’d felt all night lifted from my shoulders. I had him to lean on. Who needed a bed, anyway?

Beds…rooms…

That reminded me of something.

Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I glanced up at him. ‘What about my other sisters? I’ve been so busy with Ella that I completely forgot about them. Are they settled in? Do you know if they’ve been showing symptoms, too?’

‘Your two oldest siblings are well.’ He cocked his head thoughtfully. ‘As for the twins, Anne and Maria—I’m not certain. They might be ill. They certainly looked somewhat ill when they were shown to their quarters in the broom cupboard.’

A slow grin spread across my face. ‘The…broom cupboard? Really?’

‘Indeed.’

‘You really know how to make a girl feel better.’

‘Yes.’ Suddenly, one of his fingers was underneath my chin, lifting it up. For one moment I felt his dark, sea-coloured eyes bore into me—then he bent down towards me, and—

He made me feel better.

Much, much better.

*~*~**~*~*

The next morning, I awoke to the sweet music of my sister puking out of the window.

‘Decided that the flowers outside deserved some fertilizer to, did you?’ I enquired, gently grasping her trembling shoulders, supporting her.

‘Something like that,’ she croaked. ‘Besides, the vases are full.’

To judge by the smell in the room, she was right. Oh well…time to take a leaf out of Mr Ambrose’s book, I guess. My turn to do some waste-disposal. Grabbing the first vase, I stepped towards the door—then hesitated, glancing back at Ella, who was still hanging out of the window.

‘Will you be all right, or should I help you get back into bed?’

‘Go, go.’ She waved me off with a weak smile. ‘I can still take three steps across the room.’

Reassured, I pulled open the door and started heading down the corridor. I was just about to start down the first set of stairs when a chambermaid with a feather duster came out of an unoccupied room to my left and stopped to stare at me.

‘My goodness, Miss! What are you doing with that thing? Please, let me help you.’ Rushing forward, she took the vase out of my arms.

‘Thanks,’ I panted, flexing my fingers. ‘That thing is pretty heavy.’

‘Why did you carry it out yourself? Just ring, and one of us will be there right away to help you.’

‘Yes, I know. It’s just, well…’ For lack of words, I gestured at the vase.

‘Yes, I see what you mean.’ Critically, the chambermaid regarded the flowers. ‘They do seem sort of wilted, don’t they? Strange. I had Betty put in new ones only yesterday. And is it just me, or do they smell kind of funny?’

‘It’s not just you,’ I assured her.

‘Well, no problem, Miss. I’ll have the flowers replaced immediately.’

‘Thank you, but…err….actually, I would like to have the whole vase replaced.’

‘The vase?’

‘Preferably with a tub.’

‘A…tub. You want a tub full of flowers.’

‘Well, no. Flowers are not strictly necessary. But you can put them in if you like.’

She blinked at me, obviously weighing the orders she had been given to obey my every whim against the possibility that I was completely cuckoo. Finally, the orders won. Several hundred years of British Monarchy and more than one batshit-crazy king will do that to people.

‘Yes, Miss. A tub. Right away, Miss.’

I was just about to turn back, when the face of a bellhop appeared around the corner further down the stairs.

‘Miss Linton? Miss Linton! There’s a gentleman down at the front desk asking for you.’

My heart made a leap. A gentleman? Hadn’t Mr Ambrose said he wanted to stay in the background for now?

‘What does this gentleman look like?’

‘Older, grey-haired, with a big nose and a bigger opinion of himself.’

I frowned. That didn’t sound like anyone I knew.

‘He says his name is Dr Brooks.’

‘Doctor? Why the heck didn’t you say so at once?’ Pushing the maid aside, I raced down the stairs. The bellhop had just enough time to jump out of the way before I barrelled past him. I didn’t stop until I reached the lobby. Panting, I slowed and looked around. Where…

There!

He was standing at the front desk, just like the bellboy had sad, impatiently tapping his foot, a black bag held in his left hand, and a grumpy, ruffled expression on his face, as if he’d been thrown out of bed at three in the morning—which, if I knew Mr Ambrose, he had.

‘Dr Ross!’ Rushing towards him, I extended my hand. ‘I’m so glad you’ve come.’

‘That makes one of us,’ he grumbled, eying me through heavy-lidded eyes. ‘I had a bearded giant with a sabre pounding on my door this morning and threatening to decapitate me if I didn’t drop everything and come attend to a special patient halfway across the country, so I hope whoever it is, they’re at death’s door, Miss, or I shall be doubling my fee.’

I attempted a smile. It didn’t quite work. ‘You’ll pardon me if I don’t share that hope, Dr Ross. It’s my little sister.’

The disgruntled look instantly disappeared from the doctor’s face and in that moment I knew that Mr Ambrose and his not-so-merry-men had done as he’d promised. They’d found me a real doctor. One who cared about his patients.

‘Where is she?’

‘Upstairs.’

Without wasting another word, Dr Ross swept up the stairs. I followed right on his heels. We had just turned around a corner and were heading towards Ella’s room when a maid rushed out of the door, her face as pale as a ghost. She caught sight of me.

‘Oh, Miss! I swear, it wasn’t my fault, Miss! I just came in to see if she wanted anything, and I found her like that!’

My heart froze. ‘Like what?’

The maid didn’t answer. She just raised one trembling hand and pointed through the open doorway. Pushing past the doctor, I rushed forward into the room and found Ella lying on the floor, halfway between the window and the bed. She wasn’t moving.