Page 104 of Storm of Bells
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Pardon?’
‘Your hand. You asked where you should moveit.’ Mr Ambrose’s eyes flicked from the vicar, to his mother, andlast, but definitely not least, to the place where my hand wascurrently residing. ‘Move it away.Now!’
‘Miss Linton!’ With outstretched arms, thevicar approached and bowed deeply. ‘Thank you so much for your kindinvitation. It was very thoughtful and generous, particularly sinceyou’re still settling in, yourself.’
‘Don’t mention it.’Particularly not inthe presence of Mr Rikkard Ambrose. If he hears the word ‘generous’one more time, I won’t answer for the consequences.
‘Don’t mention it? But I have to! I have topraise all your generosity. If your invitation was alreadygenerous, I don’t even know what to say about the church steeple.’He turned his gaze on Mr Rikkard Ambrose and, before my dear fiancéhad the chance to freeze him to the spot with an icy glare, hadgrabbed him by the hand and started shaking. ‘Mr Rikkard Ambrose, Ipresume? I don’t know what to say, Sir. I can only say that yourreputation has been grossly misrepresented to me. You are one ofthe most generous men I have ever encountered in my life. Sogenerous I can hardly believe it.’
Mr Ambrose didn’t explode.
He didn’t squash the vicar into apancake.
He simply uttered two short, icy words.
‘Church steeple?’
Karim slid down from the box of the coachand, clearing his throat, stepped closer.
‘TheSahiba, after observing the poorstate of repair the church steeple was in, told the vicar all abouthow you offered to have it fixed before the wedding,Sahib.’
‘She did, did she?’
‘Yes, I did.’ Turning to lovingly gaze up tohim, I touched his cheek. ‘After all, you wouldn’t want the churchto collapse and squash me, would you?’
I expected a barb. Something like ‘I wouldn’tbe too sure about that!’ I expected a cold look. What I didn’texpect was a look so dark, so long, so silent I felt it to mybones. His sea-coloured eyes drew me in like inescapablemaelstroms. Reaching towards me, he cupped my face.
‘No. No, I would not.’
Holy Moly…
‘And, it seems,’ he continued fluidly, hiscool gaze raking over the men and women clambering out of the newlyarrived coach, ‘I have plenty of spare hands available in anycase.’ His hand flew forward, pointing. ‘You! Yes, you threefemales over there! Get into the house, ready the kitchens andprepare some food.’ His eyes zeroed in on the vicar and hisentourage. ‘It appears that we have guests. And as for you, men, goget some tools from the shed, and get yourselves to the church! Youhave repair work to do!’
‘Err…’ One of the villagers who had climbedout of the coach dared to raise a hand. ‘B-but, sir, we can’t fix achurch staple! We’re no builders, we’re just servants,and…and…’
Under the icy force of Mr Rikkard Ambrose’seyes, his voice slowly drained away.
My dear fiancé cocked his head. ‘You weresaying?’
‘N-nothing, Sir! Absolutely nothing! It is apleasure to be working for you. An absolute pleasure!’
And they dashed off.
Grinning like an idiot, I leaned against MrAmbrose’s side.
‘Is it wrong that I like it when you act likea bastard cheapskate?’
‘No.’
‘Excellent.’ I snuggled against his firm arm.Never had there been a comfier granite cushion. ‘Because I like it.I like it very much.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Oh yes, indeed, Sir.’ Extending my arm, Ilinked it with his. ‘Let’s go inside. We have guests towelcome.’
‘True.’ His eyes glittered. ‘And once I’vegotten rid of them, we two will have a little chat about headstrongfiancées who decide matters of importance without their groom’sapproval.’
I said nothing, but simply followed him in. Icould have said many things. I could have given a smart comeback. Icould have said something about how I was a strong, independentwoman who doesn’t need to confer with a man before makingdecisions. Last, but definitely not least, I could have told himabout the little room I had found while searching for thenon-existent servants of the manor, earlier. But I didn’t sayanything—for good reason.
