Page 49 of New Storm Rising
Crap. Yes, he did, the sweet, manipulative bastard.
On the other hand…he just said he expected dinner to be on the table. He never mentioned he expected you to make it.
A grin spread across my face. Sophistry was such a useful hobby.
I glanced at the note again. Hm…so he had gone to work, had he? The mine or the town? No matter. What mattered was that he was out there, doing fun stuff, while I was still stuck in here. That was going to change. I was going to go out there one way or another.
I glanced down at my still mostly unclothed form.
Just…maybe not quite like this.
Making my way to the wardrobe, I pulled open the door and…
Oh my.
So that’s how we’re gonna play it, is it?
I gazed long and hard at the contents of the wardrobe. Namely, a lot of dust and a spider curiously blinking up at the hairless ape who had invaded her home. There was not a single piece of clothing. Not even the ones I’d been wearing earlier.
My fingers twitched.
So…Mr Rikkard Ambrose wasreallydetermined to keep me at home, was he?
And determined to keep you naked, apparently. Isn’t he a wonderful man?
Shut up, stupid inner voice! I’m not running around naked simply because it’s my honeymoon!
Even if he does the same?
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Taking a deep breath, I whirled around and grabbed my luggage. To be precise, the suitcase I had personally packed. Grabbing hold of the thing, I lifted the lid and…
Nothing.
Abso-frigging-lutely nothing!
Well, except for underwear. Apparently, he didn’t mind my wearing skimpy bits of lace. Imagine that.
He’d even pinched the corsets! Heck! Why on earth would he bother stealing my corsets?
Well…that was not the main point of interest right now. Right now, the lack of decent clothes was more concerning.
So, this was his plan was it?
Step one—make me an infamous criminal so I couldn’t take a single step into town.
Step two—steal all my clothes, just to be extra sure.
Step three—put me under house arrest as the good little wife I was supposed to be.
A brilliant plan. Truly brilliant. Oh, woe is me! What could I possibly do? I would be fated to sit at home like a good little wife and do embroidery.
Unless…
Unless, of course, I was a devious little witch with a backup plan.
Smirking, I opened the secret compartment of the suitcase, which contained trousers, a dress, a second revolver and some extra ammunition. How nice of Mr Ambrose to unknowingly have his bodyguard deliver my special supplies straight into my hands. For all his brilliant plans, he seemed to have forgotten one little fact:
