him off. This was the perfect time to test a very handy technique for talking with men I had recently discovered: if they were gentlemen, and a lady intimated there was something she might like them to do, they were usually too polite to refuse. Of course, nobody ever used this technique because it was ruthlessly impolite. But then, nobody had ever accused me of politeness. ‘I’m sure you would love a little conversation for a change, wouldn’t you?’
He hesitated. ‘Um… well, yes, if you think so, but…’
It works! It works, it works!
‘I must admit I found our discussion of your house in town extraordinary,’ I cut him off again with a bright smile. ‘So exciting, in fact, that I was wondering: Do you have any estates in the country, too?’
‘Well, yes…’
That was all I needed. I let him have it - a full broadside of verbal cannonballs!
‘Wonderful! That is so interesting. How many manors are in your possession? Are they large? Is there good hunting there? Not that I myself hunt, of course, but I find the noise of guns so soothing. Reminds me of good old English traditions, and that an excellent supper will soon be on the table, don't you know? Do you yourself hunt? Oh, forgive me for even asking! You are a true gentleman, of course you hunt! I’m sure you’re an excellent sportsman, and that is so important in a man, especially an Englishman, since it’s really so central to our national character. I mean, if a German or a Frenchman don't know how to shoot, that’s all right, they can drink beer or think up poems and philosophy and everybody will say “Here we have a true example of our Nation”, but with us English, and the British in general, hunting and sportsmanship are so important. Rather demanding, don't you think? But then, our nation is the greatest in the world, I suppose that it is allowed to make demands of its subjects. What were we talking of again? Now I forgot. Oh yes, your family estates! I must ask you, do you have a library? For I am very interested in…’
And so I went on, and on, and on, until Wilkins' eyes became glassy, and Ella had settled into a comfortable nap. Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to come up with boring subject after boring subject. Dull things to talk of aren’t as common as you might think.
Why don’t you talk about flowers and greenhouses, or romantic love? He’ll probably be happy to talk to you for hours then!
I snorted. But that was just it: I didn’t want him to be happy. I wanted him to finally see what a horrible family he intended to marry into, and run away screaming. So far, though, from the looks he gave me, the only result I seemed to be getting for my efforts was that he intended to marry Ella as quickly as possible and remove her to one of these country estates of his, as far away as possible from her deranged sister.
‘Of course,’ I said brightly, ‘Ella and I are inseparable. Wherever she goes, I go. Isn’t that so, Ella?’
I elbowed her in the ribs as discreetly as possible. Abruptly awakening from her nap, she mumbled: ‘What…? Oh yes. Inseparable, yes, of course.’
‘I believe that even were one of us to marry,’ I said poignantly, ‘the other could not survive without her sister. We would always have to be together.’
Horror washed over Wilkins' face. Like a drowning man stretching out of the water to grasp a cliff, he jumped from his chair and tapped a passing gentleman in a black tailcoat on the shoulder. In the background, the music of the last dance faded as it came to an end.
‘Excuse me, my friend.’ The words tumbled out of Wilkins' mouth into the sudden silence. He couldn’t get them out fast enough. ‘The next dance will be starting soon, and this lady here has held me captive… um, I mean, has had to sit down for several dances, lacking a partner. Would you be so kind as to oblige?’
‘If you wish it, Wilkins,’ said a horribly familiar, cold, curt voice. ‘You were most obliging in our recent dealings, I owe you a favour.’
‘It is too kind of you to say so,’ Wilkins sighed, relief breaking out all over his face.
‘No. I’m never too kind.’ Turning, Mr Ambrose nodded to Sir Philip. ‘Now, where is this lady of yours?’
Then he saw me.
Slowly