"The truth is, Ella...we have a brother."

Behind me, Amy nearly choked on her own spittle. Mr Ambrose's head snapped around to stare at me.

"A...a brother?" Ella demanded disbelievingly.

"Yes."

Mr Ambrose's stare intensified, sinking to temperatures that could freeze a polar bear's butthole shut.

Oy, don't look at me like that! What was I supposed to do? Tell my innocent little sister that her favourite sibling had been moonlighting as a man for years, travelling all over the world, braving deserts, duelling desperados and all around risking her neck? I can think of less cruel ways to give her a heart attack!

Plus, I was a coward. Bite me!

"H-how?" My little sister's eyes were wide. "How could I have a brother? I don't remember anything about—"

"It's such a tragic story." I gave a long sigh. "When mother gave birth to me, it wasn't me alone. I...I had a brother. A twin. But then...sniff..." I reached up to wipe away a non-existent tear, trying very hard to ignore the baleful glare Mr Rikkard Ambrose was sending my way. "A wicked, wicked man who had been dismissed from father's service snuck into the hospital and stole him away in the night. It wasn't till years later, when Victor entered Mr Ambrose's employ, that I met him."

"V-Victor?"

"That is his name," I told her with a mournful look in my eyes. "Truly, it is such a tragedy that you didn't get to meet him earlier. He's such a delightful person. Kind, intelligent, strong-willed, charismatic, honest and upri—ow!"

Mr Ambrose's foot had landed on my toes.

"Ehem, anyway..." I cleared my throat. "I was going to tell you all about him soon—but then dear Victor heard about that bloody Frenchman setting his sights on Adaira. He had long been pining for her love and, hearing that she was in peril, immediately set out to gallantly rescue her from the grasp of the despicable villain that—"

And thus, I started to spin a beautiful story of my brave, long-lost brother going up against the foreign fiend who tried to steal away a fair maiden. Wasn't he an amazing fellow, this Mr Victor Linton? A downright prince charming, straight from a fairy tale! Too bad that the glares from Mr Ambrose and my friends made it all too clear no one was buying this little story. It really was incredible for anyone to belie—

"Amazing!" Ella clapped her hands, her eyes shining. "He sounds like such a kind, honest and upright man! When can I meet him?"

Wait...what?

She actually swallowed that?

I had to resist the urge to facepalm. Of course she did! She's Ella!

"You, ehem...will have to wait a little bit, I'm afraid." I put on a regretful face. "He was injured in a bandit attack and is currently resting."

"Oh my goodness!" She covered her mouth with both hands. "Is he going to be all right?"

I gave her a reassuring smile. "He is recovering. It's just that, unfortunately, at the moment he is not well enough to see other people."

"I see." Her shoulders slumped. "What a shame. Well, tell me when he recovers, will you? I'd love to get to know him!"

"Tell me when he recovers, as well," chimed in Mr Ambrose's chilly voice. "I should have a chat with Mr Linton, and congratulate him for being so kind, intelligent, strong-willed, charismatic, honest and upright."

I swallowed. "Um...sure, I will. I'm certain he'll be delighted to see you."

"Splendid!" Ella beamed as if my words had been meant solely for her. Leaping up, she rushed towards the door. "I must get ready to make a good impression on the poor man. Separated from his family for so long...it's so sad! He didn't even get to see us grow up! I wonder what I could do to cheer him up?" Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "Oh, I know! I've got to find some of our baby pictures from when mother and father were still alive! I'll bet he'd love to see those!"

And then she was gone.

Oh my...

Maybe I should have told her the truth after all.

Then I caught sight of the icy sparkle in Mr Ambrose's eyes at the words "baby pictures", and decided that, yes, I most definitely should have told her the truth. I would have to burn those pictures at the earliest opportunity.

Oh, and speaking of the truth...

"Now," Patsy's sweet voice entered my ears, "would you be so kind as to tell us what is really going on?"

My tongue flicked out to wet my lips. "Well..."

And I told her.

I told her everything.

As it turned out—everything was quite a lot. Good God...the kind of things I had gotten up to over the last few years... Was I crazy?

Do you really need to ask?

Silencing my snarky inner voice, I continued. One after another, I told them of my ventures into the lion's den (also known as the office of Mr Rikkard Ambrose), of my travels to Egypt, South America, France and America, of how I had secretly worked for and fought beside Mr Ambrose for all those years, first as a secretary, then as something more, then as his everything. His wife. I told my best friends all the things I had conveniently neglected to share with them for the last few years. When I was finally finished, I ducked my head in expectation of the coming storm.

Only...it didn't come.

I waited for half a minute longer—yet still, no explosion of fury came. Was Patsy so enraged she was choking on her words? That was the conclusion I eventually came to. But when I dared to glance up at her, I found her gaze focused on me with...glee? And...admiration?

Huh?

"Lilly!" Grinning, Patsy leapt up and raced towards me. I lifted an arm to fend off the incoming whack with the parasol—and found myself squeezed by a vice-like hug. "You're amazing! I now finally see my way clearly before me!"

Double huh?

"Um...your way?"

"Oh yes!" Smiling in a manner that made me wish for cover to hide behind, Patsy poked Mr Rikkard Ambrose in the ribs with her parasol. "Oy! You own lots of companies and stuff, right?"

My husband's chilly gaze came to rest on her. "If by 'companies and stuff' you mean that I run an international industrial conglomerate, indeed I do."

"Great!" Her smile widening, Patsy rubbed her hands. "So, you've got lots of jobs for people, right? Probably a few open positions?"

I got a sudden, horrible feeling that I knew what she was up to. And so, apparently, did Mr Rikkard Ambrose.

"No," he stated in a way that gave the word "unequivocal" new meaning. "Absolutely not."

"Oh yes." By now, Patsy's grin was so wide it nearly spit her face. "Definitely yes. You know, I've been wondering how I, as a woman, could get a job to avoid my parents foisting one of those asinine suitors on me. It seems that providence has presented the perfect opportunity to me."

"Oh, oh, me too!" Almost jumping up and down in her seat, Eve jabbed her hand into the air. "I want a job, too!"

"Um..." Cautiously, Flora raised a single finger. "C-could I have one as well?"

"Oy!" Amy waved her hand in the air, grinning like a loon. "I want—"

That was about as far as she got before I buried my elbow in her ribs.

"You are not," I informed her in a low voice that somehow managed to sound like the growl of a lady tiger, "repeat, not going to ask my husband for a job. No matter how many open posts he may have, he will not have a need to employ anyone with your particular talents!"

In answer, Amy simply grinned. I was about to ask Patsy to lend me her parasol when I felt a sudden chill coming over me.

What the...?!

Oh.

Right then, I realised that I wasn't the only pissed off person in the room. And, unlike me, said person was not just displeased with Amy. Apparently, Mr Rikkard Ambrose didn't appreciate the prospect of crossdressing suffragists invading his various offices. And his arctic gaze, which was doing its best to turn me into a popsicle, told me exactly whom he was holding responsible for the coming invasion.

Well...he isn't exactly wrong, either. You did just provide them with an excellent example.

Shut up, stupid inner voice! That is totally beside the point!

"Mrs. Lillian. Ambrose."

Uh-oh...that arctic tone...

I was in for it this time, wasn't I?

Clearing my throat, I quickly pushed myself to my feet and sidled towards the door. "I just remembered I still have some urgent things to do. I—"

"Hold it!"

A hand closed around my wrist. However, when I glanced back, I was surprised to find not my husband's fingers around my wrist, but rather Patsy's.

"Um...yes?" I enquired, throwing a nervous glance at Mr Rikkard Ambrose. "If you want me to give you a recommendation for job application—"

"It's not that!" Patsy waved away my words dismissively.

"Ah." My shoulders sagged in relief.

"Although I also want that."

"Oh." Immediately, I tensed up again.

"What I want to know right now is: what the heck are we supposed to do now?"

I blinked, not having expected that. "Huh?"

My dear friend sent me a glare. "We came all this way up north to help—sneaking out of the house against our parents' express orders in the process, I might mention—and now we find out that there is nothing to help with? Are we just supposed to sit on our hands while one of the two people we were supposed to rescue does the rescuing?"

"Um...yes?"

If Patsy's head had been a tea kettle, the lid would have lifted from the angry steam gushing out of it. "That's not what I bloody wanted to hear!"

"Err...sorry?" I scratched my head. "But honestly, it's really better if I take care of this. If you were to spirit Adaira away in the night, I doubt His Excellency the Marquess would see it as a rescue, and I might end up having to rescue you from the county jail."

The girls looked distinctly displeased by that. I got the impression that they thought if they had to risk their parents' wrath, they might at least get an exciting rescue operation out of it. But in the end, they let out defeated grumbles.

"Ugh, fine!" Patsy clenched her fists. "But if we aren't allowed to rescue you, what should we do? I can't just sit on my bloody hands doing nothing!"

I perked up and quickly rose from the sofa. "You want to help?"

"Yes!"

"Well, then..." With my most harmless smile plastered onto my face, I pulled her up onto her feet and, sliding an arm around her shoulder, started steering her in the direction the marchioness had disappeared in. "That's no problem. I have something you can help with."

***

"You know," Patsy informed me in a conversational tone, "in revenge for this, I'm going to stab you with my parasol."

I grinned and, leaning back, took a sip of fruit juice. "I'm afraid that has already been confiscated. Lady Samantha seemed very anxious about you having any sharp, dangerous objects."

"You...!" Eyebrows twitching, Patsy threw the cloth she'd been using to clean one of the mirrors on the wall straight at my head, and I nimbly dodged. "At least get off your arse and help! If we're going to have to slave away cleaning and decorating this entire ballroom, the least you could do is help!"

"Sorry, no can do." With another luxurious sip, I picked up her rag and threw it back at her. After all, I couldn't have her slacking, now, could I? "I have only just given birth. I'm still far too weak and exhausted for such strenuous activity."

"But you are strong enough to gallivant through the forest with a rifle in one hand and a revolver in the other?"

"What are you talking about?" My eyes widened in innocence. "That was my brother, Mr Victor Linton, remember? I had nothing whatsoever to do with it."

That made her eyebrows twitch again.

Hm...I wonder if I could make her little finger twitch as well. After all, I have plenty of practise from Mr Ambrose...

"Lilly? Lilly, please!"

A pleading voice came from below, like the wail of some tortured soul in the deepest pits of hell. Glancing down, I spotted Eve, who was currently bent over, polishing the floor of the ballroom.

"Please have mercy! Having to dance at balls is bad enough! But actually having to help create such horrors?" She shuddered. "Please don't make us go through this!"

"Hm..." I tapped my chin. She did have a point, but...

"Please! I'm begging you! We'll do anything!"

At that, I instantly perked up. "Anything?"

"Yes! Anything!"

"Well...since you're asking so nicely..."

Rising from my seat in the corner, I gestured for them to follow. I hadn't known humans could move that fast. In a flash, they were beside me, their cleaning equipment discarded and their eyes shining with eagerness.

"You're serious? Really serious?" Eve was nearly vibrating with joy—until, that is, she threw a glance towards where Lady Samantha was commanding the cleaning troops with an iron fist. "And you, um...don't think she'll mind if we leave?"

"Not at all." I patted her shoulder. "In fact, I think she'd agree that what we are about to do takes priority."

"Great!" Beaming, Eve rubbed her hands. "Then let's go!"

I obliged before anyone had the chance to think better of it. After only a few minutes' walk, we had reached my room upstairs.

"What are we going to do in there?" Flora asked, curiously.

"Oh, you'll know momentarily," I assured her—then pushed open the door.

The moment I did, a familiar overpowering odour hit my poor nose.

"Hey, Berty, guess what? I brought your dear aunties to see you! And your bottom!"

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My dear Readers,

What do you think of Lilly's handling of the situation regarding her "brother"? I thought it was much more fitting for her character than just telling her sister the truth, but I'd love to hear your feedback!

Oh, and by the way, in case you are wondering what inspired the chapter title: It came from the saying "The truth shall set you free", which in turn is based on aparaphrased Bible quote. I thought the modified version I used would be more appropriate for achapter title in a story involving Mr Rikkard Ambrose ;-)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob