Summertide Excursion : A 'Storm and Silence' Fan-fiction

A Slamming Good Time

Breath! Don't forget to breath!

Still facing the door opposite my employer, I mentally kicked myself for being so nervous. Even after enduring the torturous ways of my odd employer for a few months, he still managed to make me dread our first encounter of each day. I would never admit it, but his aura of pure power intimidated me to no end. How dare that son of a bachelor make me feel inferior! How dare he bully me, ordering me around like some arrogant overlord! The nasty voice in my head snickered:

But that's exactly what he is, isn't he? Arrogant, intimidating, powerful— he could make you do whatever he wanted and you wouldn't be able to do a thing about it.

I felt sparks lighting inside of me, threatening to set my temper ablaze. I most certainly would do something about it! I took orders from no man, and certainly least of all from him! I would not be another victim of this wealthy tyrant's autocracy! My inner feminist cheered, hopping up and down, and brandishing signs supporting slogans of suffragism. Hmm, she vaguely resembled my dear, elegant, perfectly ladylike companion Patsy...

May I remind you of how you were able to indulge in such a blissful chocolate delicacy not minutes earlier? Does that not require, what's the word? Oh yes, money?

Blast! Why did she always have to be right? I would have to wait to battle on the fronts of oppression for the time being. I had another war to wage at the moment, and my enemy was sitting mere steps behind me. He was a mountain, a mountain I had to summit in order to reach my glorious freedom. Until then, the journey would be difficult, laborious, and most importantly, very, very cold. At that thought, shivers ran up and down my body. My mind filled with dread yet again as I realised that I would have to turn and face my employer at some point that day.

I tightened my grip on the smooth, brass handle as I moved to shut the heavy double door. To my horror, the hinges produced an irksome creak as I moved the door closed, centimeter by centimeter. Push— crrreeeeeeaaaaak.. push— creeeeeaaaak... push————————

Creeeeeeeeaaaaak.

Blast, blast, blast! Would that miser of a man not even pay the miniscule expense of purchasing oil for these bloody hinges? Of course he wouldn't. This was Mr. Ambrose, and if he were to be given the choice between utter destruction or sacrificing a penny, he would surely choose destruction every time.

I glared at the door, hoping that my gaze would melt the hinges so that they would cease making such infernal noises. I was only supplying my dear employer with more reasons to bark at and belittle me!

Oh, to hell with it!

I slammed the door in one swift movement, interrupting the hinges before they could make any more noises at my expense. It was a miracle that the door hadn't fallen right out of its frame, although I was fairly certain that Mr. Stone had fallen from his chair in fright. Poor lad.

From the back of the room, I heard an almost inaudible cough. I was nearly convinced that it had been my imagination, but no, I had indeed heard it. I winced and turned around slowly, attempting to delay the arrival of the blizzard that awaited me.

At the end of the room sat Mr. Ambrose, his impossibly erect figure cast in shadow against the sunny London morning. I could not see his eyes, but I could feel them on me, shooting icicles into the depths of my very soul. Knowing that I had wasted enough of his precious time already, I scurried over to face the front of his desk and stood at attention.

'Good morning Sir, Mr. Ambrose, Sir!' I enthusiastically raised my arm to a salute. Perhaps, he hadn't noticed the abuse I had inflicted on his office door. Perhaps, if I acted as if nothing had happened, he wouldn't acknowledge it. Or even better, he wouldn't acknowledge my presence at all! I plastered an innocent smile on my face, reinforcing any doubts he may have had about my previous actions.

Unfortunately, he did not answer my pleas and forget my existence. Could the man be any more despicable?

'Mr. Linton,' the sound of his voice caused the temperature of the room to fall ten degrees. 'What, may I enquire, do you think you are doing? Those doors were not an inexpensive purchase, and the cost of any damages inflicted will be deducted from your wages.' His eyes burrowed into mine, never breaking contact. However, I managed to stay afloat in the turbulent sea of his dark gaze. I had been given this threat many times before, to no avail. I relaxed, this was as close to a casual conversation with Mr. Ambrose as there could ever be.

'I was simply making sure that it closed properly Sir, so that you could have your privacy Sir. I know how much you dislike being barged in on, Sir, speaking from experience, Sir, of course, Sir.' I straightened my poster and gave Mr. Ambrose another salute.

His eyes burrowed into mine with twice as much intensity as before. I could feel myself start to flounder in the depths of his gaze. No, Lilly! Stay determined! You did absolutely nothing wrong, don't let this man wash away your confidence with his oceanic gaze!

'Indeed?' he said, voice unchanged. 'I do not doubt your experience of behaving in foolish, aggravating ways. If nothing else, count on the lessons learned from your experiences Mr. Linton. I doubt you will learn from anything else.'

Was that amusement I saw, flickering in the depths of his eyes? Amusement! Why, that son of a— I would show him how I'd learned from my experiences! For example, never pass up an opportunity to knock the head off of any arrogant son of a bachelor!

I was just about to let my fists fly, when I remembered that I had been summoned here on special request. Had Mr. Ambrose forgotten in the midst of humiliating me? I took a deep breath, composing myself.

'Yes Sir, very good advice Sir. Anyway, you called me here for a reason, did you not, Sir?' Replacing respectful words with sarcasm would have to be enough to vent my anger for the moment.

Mr. Ambrose paused more a few seconds before replying, as if trying to remember what he had been meaning to say. His eyes flitted up and down my figure, pausing for a moment on the flower resting in my breast pocket, then returned to meet mine. Odd, he was usually not so easily distracted.

'Yes, of course. I need one of the letters from the days correspondance, immediately. Therefore I required you to bring it to me.' He held out his hand expectantly, and I roughly shoved the pile of envelopes into it. Crossing my arms, I watched as he filed through them with lightning speed, dropping the undesired onto his desk with a sharp flick of his wrist. Amongst the discarded, I saw a shock of bright pink. Her, I thought with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

Finally finding the desired letter, Mr. Ambrose sat a little straighter, if that was even possible, triumphant. He reached down to open a compartment in his desk, opened it, and took out the small silver letter-opener. Making an effortlessly precise incision, he opened the envelope and drew out the letter. From his utter disregard of my existence in the room, I took his actions as my cue to leave. I bent over the desk and picked up the remaining letters, taking care not to reveal my interest in the bright pink corner that protruded from the pile. I hastily walked across the room to the door connecting to my office, and stepped through the door without looking back.

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There you have it, chapter two! Chapter three is coming shortly,  I just have to make a few quick edits and it will be up!

What do you all think of the story so far? Will Lilly abuse any more doors? Will Lilly finally find out who the writer of the pink letter is? Will the flower survive a day in the midst of Mr. Ambrose? All will be revealed in time! Let me know what you think in the comments, I love reading anything and everything you have to say!

Also, I want to say thank you to everyone who has read Summertide Excursion so far! Your support has been wonderful, and I hope you're as excited to read it as I am to write it for you!

Now, onto the next chapter! Huzzah!

Yours scribbling away,
Bee