Page 21 of New Storm Rising
“You don’t know?”
Mr Angleton exchanged a look with the sheriff, who, to judge by the way he stared out of the window, was not interested in this particular investigation.
“Well…” A smile spread over the young woman’s face, and a sparkle entered her eyes. One with which I, after years in the company of Rikkard Ambrose, was very much familiar.
Oh, bloody hell, no!
“Don’t tell anyone else,” Sophia whispered at a volume the whole coach could hear, “but I heard there’s some extraordinary gentleman who’s going to travel with us. I heard he’s a very important person over in England, and wealthy beyond your wildest dreams! If I can catch his eye…”
…you are going to find out what it’s like to play Russian roulette with six bullets in the chambers! Don’t you dare touch what’s mine, you bloody little minx!
Sophia’s sister giggled. “Not just wealthy! Is that all you know?”
“Why? What else is there?”
“His face. I’veseenhim!”
Oh, you have, have you, witch?
Sophia’s face lit up. “Tell! Tell!”
The look that entered the second sister’s eyes made me want to lean forward and strangle the girl.
Bad Lilly! Bad! You can’t strangle people in front of law enforcement officers!
I couldn’t? Maybe with a bit of bribery…
You just had half your salary deducted, remember?
Crap!
“He’s so incredible…” Sister number two whispered, gazing into the distance, most likely at a mental image of a shirtless Rikkard Ambrose. “Tall and broad-shouldered, clad in black from head to toe. A face like a Greek god, and his eyes…oh, those eyes! Like jewels from the bottom of the ocean! I just want him to pull me into his arms and—”
That’s it. They were both dead. Definitely dead.
Maybe I could hire a hitman on credit?
Yes, that sounded like a really sensible idea.
From my little corner of the carriage, I sent the two girls a death-glare, which, busy as they were gossiping about how to seduce my husband, they didn’t even notice. The sheriff noticed, though. I could see him staring at me, mentally checking his list of wanted posters.
Just then, the sound of crunching dirt approached from outside. Footsteps. The strong, determined footsteps of a man.
“That’s him!” dead girl number one squealed. “He’s here! He’s here!”
“All right, stay calm, stay calm!” dead girl number two urged, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder, lowering her voice to a level that, again, was absolutely audible to the rest of the coach. “Remember, project charm and elegance. We must grab this chance to make a good impression on him!”
“Smile! Smile! One of us must get this beautiful Adonis!”
Outside, the manly footsteps stopped in front of the carriage.
“Now, let’s do this!” Sitting up straight, the two sisters preened, and, with beaming smiles, turned towards the carriage door and the man of their dreams. “Good morning, Sir. What a pleasure to meet y—”
The door swung open.
“Gnk.”
“Greetings.” Giving a solemn nod, the form of a huge man with a turban that almost touched the ceiling climbed inside, the coach groaning under his weight. Bowing to the wide-eyed passengers, he pulled a gigantic sabre and sheath from where it was fastened to his belt and placed it on the luggage rack. Then, stepping next to the two young ladies watching him with mouths agape, he pointed at the seat beside them that they had helpfully cleared for the object of their affection. “May I sit here?”
