Page 228 of Storm of Bells
‘Report!’
The messenger’s eyes flickered uncertainlyover to Lady Samantha.
‘You may speak freely in front of my mother,’Mr Ambrose said, while his eyes said, ‘Don’t youdarespeakfreely in front of my mother!’
‘Ah. Right. Ehem.’ The man cleared histhroat. ‘You…you remember your…your poultry farm in America?’
Mr Ambrose’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally.‘My poultry farm?’
‘Um…yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘The poultrywhose hens lay those, err…extremely valuable eggs. Almost likegolden geese, you might say.’
‘Ah.’ Mr Ambrose’s little finger twitchedagain. ‘Thatpoultry farm. What about it?’
‘There, err…seems to be a problem.’
‘Oh no!’ Sitting down on a sofa near theyoung man, Lady Samantha twisted her delicate hands in her lap.‘Those poor little birds. They aren’t sick, are they?’
The young man shifted, throwing a desperatelook at Mr Ambrose. ‘Well, err…no. It seems like the mi—um, I meanthe hens have…yes, the hens have been attacked by a pack of hungrywolves.’
‘Dear Lord! Those poor little birdies.Nevertheless…’ Lady Samantha gave the man a slightly admonishinglook. ‘My son and his wife have just recently married. Surely, thesteward and gamekeeper of the local estate can take care of such amatter.’
‘Err…’ Clearing his throat again, the youngman glanced at Mr Ambrose out of the corner of his eyes. ‘They arebigwolves. Really,reallybig wolves.’
‘Oh? Do wolves in America generally get thatbig?’
‘No, um.’ His breathing sped, and the risingpanic was clearly evident in his eyes. ‘Those are special wolves.Special big, dangerous wolves.’
‘But still…’ Lady Samantha frowned. ‘Thegamekeeper should be able to take care of it, shouldn’t he?’
The little man in the bowler looked reallypanicked now. ‘Reallydangerous,’ he repeated, wiggling hiseyebrows at Mr Ambrose in a none-too-subtle manner. ‘You might evensay…criminallydangerous.’
‘I see.’ Nodding grimly, Mr Ambrose steppedforward. ‘Well then. We’ll depart immediately.’
Lady Samantha’s jaw dropped to the floor.
‘Whatdid you say?’
‘I dislike to repeat myself, mother. I saidwe would depart immediately.’
‘Leave?’ She whirled around to gape ather son. ‘You can’t leave your bride the very morning after thewedding to inspect apoultry farm!’
Oh dear. She was really innocent, wasn’tshe?
My eyes met my husband’s. I smiled. MrAmbrose nodded.
‘Of course I can’t.’
‘Thank goodness!’ Lady Samantha breathed adeep sigh of relief. ‘I thought I’d raised a barbarian who’d losthis last bit of good breeding and common sen—’
‘I would never leave her behind. Which is whyshe is coming with me.’ Stepping towards me, eyes sparkling likethe depths of distant oceans, Mr Rikkard Ambrose took my hand.‘What do you think of a honeymoon in America, Mrs Ambrose?’
A fierce smile of joy spread across my face.‘An excellent idea, Mr Ambrose.’
THE END – AND THE BEGINNING
Profit or no Profit, thatis the Question
(Chapter 4, ‘Happy, Happy Customers’, from MrAmbrose’s Point of View)
