CONGRATULATIONS! Thanks to you, we've reached the 3rd and final Round of the Goodreads Choice Awards. So he's your well-deserved reward!

More info about how to vote in the Finals at the End of this Chapter! :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silently, I gazed down the street, my eyes sweeping from right to left, looking for movement, for the glint of watching eyes, for any sign that someone might be following us. Nothing. Nothing but the dark, and howling wind, the whirling flakes of snow. But it wouldn't last. Someone would see. Someone would find out. And then...

My hands clenched into fists.

'Karim?'

'Yes, Sahib?'

'Let's go.'

'Yes, Sahib.'

Ducking out of the shadowy archway, I started down the street. Every step in the thick, white blanket of snow was like a drumbeat in my ears.

Thud.

Don't do this.

Thud.

Don't do this.

Thud.

Don't do this.

At a street corner, I ducked behind a tree and Karim followed, melting into the shadows. We waited. Waited while snow fell, and wind whistled. Nothing. No pursuers. No one following. But still...I wasn't going to cease being vigilant. Not in this case.

Double back! I silently signalled at the big, weather-beaten Mohammedan, the only person in this world I trusted.

Mostly.

With one possible exception.

Damn! No! This is no time for thoughts of he—

I cut the thought off ruthlessly before it could end in fiery disaster.

We doubled back and checked for pursuers. Still nothing. I didn't relax one little bit, however. Not with what I had planned for tonight. I could hardly believe that I was doing it. The very thought of it made me shudder, and yet, and yet...

My feet kept moving, one in front of the other.

No one must find out. If anyone finds out...

I couldn't think about that. No one would find out. It was that simple. And if someone was unfortunate enough to see me...

Sliding into my tailcoat, my hand caressed the butt of my trusted revolver. There were solutions to every problem.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure stepped out of a doorway in front of me.

'Karim!'

Reacting out of instinct, I grabbed the stranger by the collar, driving my knee into his guts.

'Rrrg!'

Most kind of him to double over like this. My hands clenched together in one fist, and I brought them down on the stranger's neck, with a crack. Gurgling, he landed in the snow.

In an instant, Karim was beside me, picking the man up as if he weighed no more than a feather and pinning him to the wall. A gleaming blade appeared at the neck of the soon-to-be-deceased individual.

'Speak or die!' Karim hissed. 'Who sent you? Who told you to follow us?'

'Grrk. Ng. Agl.'

Slowly, Karim reduced the pressure on the man's throat. 'Speak!'

'I...I...' The man's eyes were wide. 'I wasn't following you, Sir! I wasn't following anyone, I...I was just on my way to the local orphanage to—'

I stopped listening. I had spotted something on the ground. Bending down, I picked up a small metal box. I shook it. It rattled.

'He's telling the truth,' I told Karim. 'Let him go.'

'Are you sure, Sahib? If he is hiding something, I will discover the truth. All I need is an open fire, a knife, a feather and—'

'Let him go.'

Reluctantly, Karim set the man back on the ground. Before he could run away, I grabbed him by the lapels.

'If you breathe a word of what you saw here tonight,' I said, my voice colder than the arctic air around me, 'if you even mention that you met me, or saw me, or breathed the same air as me, it will be the last thing you do on this earth. Understood?'

'S-saw you? But I don't even know who you are!'

'Good. Keep it that way.'

And I shoved the man away, into the darkness. Whirling, I started towards our goal again.

'Let's go, Karim. We've wasted enough time.'

'Yes, Sahib.'

Long strides eating up the distance, we proceeded down the dark street. The farther we got, the sparser the street lamps became. The houses became shabbier with every step, and the wind howled with renewed ferocity. Ignoring it completely, I continued on, and on, and on, until we finally reached the entrance to a dark alley. At the very end, there was a door. The entrance to a shabby old building.

Finally. We were here.

Slowly, I turned to Karim.

'Are you certain the owner of this establishment is discreet?'

'Yes, Sahib.' Karim ran a finger over the pommel of his sabre. 'I explained to him what would happen to him if he would not be discreet.'

'Adequate. And...Karim?'

'Yes, Sahib?'

'If you breathe a word about this to anyone, you are a dead man.'

'Yes, Sahib.'

Whirling back to face the alley, I marched straight up to the door and pushed it open. A low bell sounded above my head, making me shudder. Heat hit me in the face. The inside of the house was brightly lit, which unfortunately meant that I could see the counter with various...items displayed on it, and the man standing behind it.

'Good evening, Sir.' He gave me a smile that I didn't return. 'What can I do for you?'

My jaw tensed. Taking a step forward, I placed both my hands on the counter and forced myself to look the man straight in the eye. Prying open my mouth, I said the words that I thought I would never utter in my life.

'Show me your wares. I have to buy a... a Christmas present.'

*~*~**~*~*

'Lillian? Lillian, there's someone at the door! Go see who it is.'

'Yes, Aunt.'

'And be quick about it! Dinner is almost ready.'

'Yes, Aunt. Of course, Aunt.'

Sighing, I trudged towards the door. Ah yes. How could I forget? Dinner! Christmas dinner, to be exact—which in our happy little house consisted of porridge and boiled potatoes. How could anyone not look forward to such a scrumptious meal?

Muttering an Arabian expletive I knew my aunt wouldn't understand even if she heard it, I ripped open the front door. The bright red faces of five carol singers beamed up at me, their notes and collecting tins ready.

'Good evening,' one of them chirped. 'Christmas is the season of good cheer, love, and—'

I slammed the door in his face.

I just couldn't help myself. I was a little allergic to the word 'love' these days. With her usual talent for making my life miserable, my aunt had not only shipped off my favourite sister Ella, as well as my tolerable ones, Lisbeth and Gertrude, to spend Christmas with distant cousins in the country, but had also invited three complete strangers for Christmas dinner, in the hopes of marrying me off before New Year. When I pointed out that one would have been sufficient, since I didn't really intend to start a career as a queen bee with a harem of drones, she for some reason took offence.

There was another knock at the door.

'What now?' I yelled, and tore it open.

'—love, and goodwill towards all mankind. We have come to cheer you on this special day. Would you like to hear the carol—'

Slam!

Mumbling Arabian expletives, I turned and marched away down the corridor. I had hardly got five paces, when there came another knock from the door.

All right. Enough was enough.

Marching back, I snatched my parasol from the umbrella stand beside the door, grabbed the doorknob and pulled hard. Swift as a snake, my parasol stabbed forward—

—nearly stabbing the solitary, non-carol-singing gentleman who was standing on the doorstep. He jumped back with a yelp, just in time to avoid the tip of my deadly weapon.

'Bloody hell! I'm sorry.' My ears heating, I hurried out into the snow to make sure I hadn't perforated the man in any important parts. 'But what are you doing standing here on the doorstep like this on Christmas Eve?'

'I, um...well...' The man's gazed flicked between the open door, my parasol, and the street behind him—his only way of escape. 'Well, err, that is to say...your aunt invited me to dinner.'

'Oh.'

My hands, which had just been about to pat him down, checking for holes, froze. He was one of them.

'Yes, and, um...I was wondering whether I might come in?'

Somehow, I managed to paint a smile on my face. 'Of course. My aunt told me that you would be arriving soon. Please come in. And again, I'm most dreadfully sorry.'

And I was—for missing him. Contending with only two suitors would have made the evening so much easier to bear.

'Well, um, thank you, Miss...Linton?'

'You're most welcome.' In the non-literal sense, at least.

I let him in—and from that point onwards, the evening went downhill. My other two suitors arrived, and with Aunt Brank gazing suspiciously over my shoulder, I had to refrain from trying to stab them with my parasol. Our age-old butler, Leadfield, limped out of the kitchen, the gruel and potatoes already cold by the time he reached the table. Soon, I was sitting at the table, trying to decide which was more unappetising: the food in front or the gentlemen on either side of me.

The fat little man to my left gave me an insipid grin. 'You have such a beautiful smile, Miss Linton.'

I gave him a look. 'I haven't smiled all evening. You've never seen me smile.'

'Well, there has to be a first time for everything, right?'

And he reached out with his pudgy little hand for mine.

Quickly, I grabbed my fork took a bite of cold potato dipped in porridge. It couldn't get any worse than this, surely!

Or at least that was what I thought until dinner was over and we went to the drawing room, where the cheap old family piano that Uncle Bufford had inherited from the previous owners of the house stood ready and waiting.

'Oh look!' My aunt exclaimed, as if she were seeing the old musical monster for the first time. 'Why don't we have some music?' She threw me a meaningful look. 'We could dance a little and have fun.'

'Great idea!' I rushed toward the piano. 'I'll play and—'

But my sister Maria was already setting her notes down. She raised an eyebrow at me. 'You didn't think I was going to be the one who had to dance with one of those buffoons, did you?' She nodded to the three guests. 'Go and dance, Lilly. Have fun.'

How? By strangling you, my dear sister?

A moment later, the tones of an old country jig rose up, and my hand was grabbed by a clammy paw.

'I don't know this dance,' the gangly fellow opposite me told me with a nervous smile. 'How is it done?'

'Well,' I answered in a very calm, very dignified manner, 'you can start by not standing on my foot.'

Do I need to describe what follows? I don't really think so. There are more than enough descriptions of natural disasters in the newspapers. It was when Jedidiah—alias Mr Gangly Man—stepped on my foot for the twenty-third time, that I'd finally had enough. Twenty-four was a nice Christmas number, but only for the date, not for my poor, tortured foot!

'I'm a little bit thirsty,' I told Jedidiah and kicked his shin to avoid another foot squash. Attack is the best defence! 'I'm going to the kitchen to fetch myself something to drink.'

'But...there are refreshments over on that table.'

'Yes. But I really want to fetch some from the kitchen.'

And with a last, loving kick to the shin I slipped away, praying my aunt wouldn't notice. At least not before I had effected my escape.

Grabbing a coat from the hallstand, I rushed to the back door and started fumbling with the knob.

Please don't let her come after me, please don't let her come after me...!

The knob turned with a click.

Yes! Yes, freedom!

Hurling open the door, I rushed outside into the garden.

What now?

Normally, I would hide behind the bush right next to the big oak tree. But with six inches of snow on the ground and the air cold enough to bite your nose off, that wasn't really an option. I had to find somewhere to hide! Hide and wait, until this whole Christmas horror was over. But where? Where could I go on a cold, dark, silent night like this?

I froze, halfway down the garden.

Silent?

Cold?

No. No, I couldn't do that, could I? I couldn't go there. He wouldn't approve. He most certainly wouldn't approve. But, on the other hand...I had keys. He would never have to know.

And what he doesn't know won't hurt him (and more importantly, me).

Suddenly decided, I pushed open the door in the garden wall and started down the street.

Fifteen freezing cold minutes later, I stood in front of the oh-so-familiar two-columned portico of Empire House. The place was cold, dark and empty. In spite of strenuous efforts, Mr Rikkard Ambrose had so far not succeeded in convincing his employees that they should come to work on Christmas.

Well, all the better. If this place were full, I'd have nowhere to run to.

Pulling my keys out, I unlocked the door and entered, closing it after me. Strange. The entrance hall was hardly warmer than the icy air outside. There was not a single lamp lit in the entire building, and it was just about the unfriendliest place imaginable.

So...why did it feel safe? Why did it feel like...coming home?

Shaking my head to chase away those errant thoughts, I started across the hall, heading towards the stairs. With one of the candles from the emergency reserve, I found my way upstairs to my office, and soon was sitting wrapped up warmly in my coat at my desk. In front of me lay the entirety of my secret Christmas supplies, which I had stockpiled here in my desk: an orange, a bowl of nuts, a nice slice of ham, and—the pièce de résistance—a whole bar of solid chocolate.

'Ha! Isn't this much better than sitting stupidly at home letting myself be tortured?' I demanded of my reflection in the dark window pane.

My reflection didn't deign to respond.

'Why should I be forced to spend it with my two sisters from hell, Mr Clammy Hands, Mr Gangly Man and Mr Idontevenrememberhim? Better to be alone! Right?'

Still, there was only silence.

'In fact, this is fabulous! This is the best Christmas I've ever had.'

Still, my reflection didn't reply. It didn't have to—because sadly, that statement was true. Groaning, I buried my face in my hands.

Crap, crap, crap! What kind of miserable excuse for a human being am I? Spending Christmas alone at the office?

And not just because I had no one to celebrate with. Also because I had nowhere else to go. I mean...I could go to my friends, theoretically. But what would I tell them? I came because Christmas at home is so utterly miserable? Yep. That wouldn't be pathetic at all.

From outside, the distant tune of a carol drifted to my ears:

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la,

Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la...

Yes. Very jolly. Very jolly indeed.

Sighing, I took a bite of solid chocolate, for the first time not enjoying the taste.

'Merry Christmas, Lilly,' I told my reflection. 'Very merry Christmas.'

I was just about to take a second bland bite when, from out in the corridor, I heard a noise. The chocolate bar froze in mid-air.

Had that been...a door?

No.

No, surely I had been mistaken.

But then—why were there suddenly footsteps approaching down the hall? Fast, hard, rhythmical footsteps, like the strikes of a titan's metronome.

This wasn't possible! Who could possibly be here? What kind of man would contemplate venturing out into the snow and the dark, to go to work on Christmas Eve?

The footsteps stopped. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing the answer to my question in the form of a familiar, tall, dark-haired figure. Sea-coloured eyes bored into mine, for a moment flashing with something like...surprise? Even...emotion?

'Mr Linton!'

I raised my eyes to meet his inscrutable gaze. A shiver ran down my back, and suddenly, the cold office felt very, very warm.

'Good evening, Mr Ambrose, Sir.'

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

Nice Cliffhanger, wasn't it? ;)

If you'd like to see the NEXT CHAPTER on Wattpad, with a most deliciously interesting Lilly / Ambrose scene ENTIRELY FROM MR AMBROSE'S POV, then please go and VOTE NOW for Storm and Silence in the FINALS of the Goodreads Choice Awards 2016.

We have to gather all our forces for this last attack on the fortress of Goodreads, my Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen. The competition is tougher than ever! But if we stick together and vote like the dickens, Victory shall be ours! :)

Here once more the voting instructions, for anyone who hasn't voted so far:

1. Voting will happen on goodreads.com. In order to vote, you'll need to be signed into Goodreads. If that's already the case, proceed to point 4. Otherwise:

If you have never used or signed up for Goodreads before, proceed to point 2.

If you signed up Goodreads some time in the past, but are currently not signed in, proceed to point 3.

2. SETTING UP AN ACCOUNT: If you have never used Goodreads before and don't have an account, you'll have to sign up. You can find the sign-up page by following this link https://www.goodreads.com/user/sign_up, or by picking the top result from the google search for "Goodreads Sign up". On the sign-up page, you can either sign up using your facebook account, or you can enter a name, email and password to sign up directly. Then you're in! Since you just signed up, you are already logged in and can skip step 3. Please proceed directly to step 4 - the Voting! :)

3. SIGNING INTO GOODREADS: If you signed up Goodreads some time in the past, but are currently not signed in, you'll need to go to the sign-in page. Either follow this link https://www.goodreads.com/user/sign_in or enter the search terms "log in goodreads" into google and pick the first result that comes up.

Depending on which option you chose when you signed up, you can sign in either with your Goodreads account or your Facebook account. Now that you are signed in, please proceed to point 4, the Voting.

4. VOTING: Once you are logged into Goodreads, you'll need to go to the voting page. You can do this either by following this link:

https://www.goodreads.com/choiceawards/best-romance-books-2016

Or by entering "Goodreads Choice Awards 2016 Romance" into Google and picking the first result that comes up.

Once on the voting page, you'll see the covers of the 10 books that have made it into the finals with a "Vote" button under each cover. Click on the "Vote" button that belongs to the "Storm and Silence" Cover - and that should be it! :)

Congratulations! If you followed this procedure, you have just voted for "Storm and Silence" in the Finals of the Goodreads Choice Awards. And if you want to make absolutely sure that Mr Ambrose comes out as the winner and reveals those secret thoughts in his stony mind and heart – spread the news! Everyone with an email address or a Facebook account can vote, so go ask your friends and family to support Lilly & Ambrose in their time of need! To be certain of Victory, we need every bit of support we can get! :)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob