Page 71 of New Storm Rising
“Interesting you should mention that.”
Just when I was about to ask exactly why the heck this was interesting, I heard it. The rumble of carriage wheels coming up the dirt path in the distance. It didn’t take long for a coach to come rolling towards the house. It was cast in shadows beneath the branches of the trees, and the interior of the coach was dark.
For multiple reasons.
“Oh no.” I turned to Mr Ambrose, gazing at him with a mix of shock, admiration and accusation. “You didn’t!”
“I most certainly did.”
“You…you…!”
“…inventive, intelligent, loveable man?”
“Those,” I told him, my eyes boring into him, “werenotthe words I would have chosen.”
I was about to tell him exactly which were the words I would have chosen—and none of them, by the way, were particularly polite—when the carriage came to a stop in front of us. After a moment, the door burst open, revealing a muscle-bound black figure. In a blink, the massive man leapt down, striking a pose.
“We here! We win!”
I gave Mr Ambrose another look.
He cocked his head. “My solicitors are good at more than non-disclosure agreements, Mrs Ambrose.”
Clearly. And he was clearly better at scheming than even I had suspected. Getting slaves to pay you to free them, only to make them work for you afterwards? My dear husband and I were going to have averylong discussion later.
“Out of the way, you big oaf!” Another, smaller, form pushed past the big muscle man. The smaller man had intelligent eyes, a mop of curly hair, and a clearly superior grasp of the English language compared to his ogre of a companion.
“Mr Ambrose.” Bowing deeply, the man with the black bush on his head stepped towards my measly miser of a husband. “My name is Itoro. I speak for people here. In name of all of these people…thank you. We be…are very grateful that you make offer for work.”
“Don’t mention it.” Pulling the man back up straight, Mr Ambrose placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s my duty as a concerned citizen. Of course, it is difficult to find a place for this many workers with my operation already up and running—”
Oh my. Yes, the two of us were going to have a long chat tonight. A long, long chat.
“—but as a generous, charitable gentleman, I will do what I can to take you in, even if you will have to settle for half the wages that—”
Lifting my foot, I slammed it down on Mr Ambrose’s shiny black shoes.
“—nnnargthree quarters the wages that I usually pay my workers. I hope that will suffice?”
“Of course, Mr Ambrose, of course! Thank you, thank you so much!” The young man bowed again, eagerly. “You only a simple ship captain, and yet you some way manage getting jobs at this place for all of us. I can no even imagine how difficult it must have been for you to do this!”
Behind Mr Ambrose, I grinned. What a perfect time for me to join the conversation.
“That’s because he didn’t,” I announced, stepping forward and shouldering Mr Ambrose aside. “I did. After all, he’s just a measly ship captain. I’m the sister of the big boss.”
For one instant I had the distinct pleasure of seeing Mr Rikkard Ambrose staring at me open-mouthed—then he remembered his little play back on the boat and clamped his jaw shut, gritting his teeth.
“Oh, darling…” I patted his shoulder. “No need to be upset that you’re only pretty arm candy. You can still prove your worth in the bedroom, no?”
A muscle in Mr Ambrose’s cheek twitched. “I…am glad you think so highly of me, my dear wife.”
I patted his head. “Isn’t he cute?” Beaming, I turned towards my brand-new employees, ignoring the groan from beside me which totally didn’t come from my sweet hubby.
With tears in their eyes, the ex-slaves stepped towards me, bowing deeply. “How we ever thank ya?” More figures started climbing out of the coach, bowing and scraping in gratitude to their gracious saviour (and her male add-on). “Thank ya! Three cheers for our benny factor!”
“Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”
“Honestly, though.” His face sobering, Itoro gazed at me earnestly. “How we ever can thank you?”
