Page 218 of Storm of Bells
‘So it’s a person? Who is he? What does hehave to do with—mmm!’
My words were abruptly cut off as Mr Ambroseplucked a strawberry from a nearby pie and deposited it between mylips.
‘Mmm! Mmm!’
‘Interesting. If I’d known it was this easyto silence you I would have used that method before.’
‘Mmm…!’ I swallowed. ‘You can’t just—’
That was when his lips replaced thestrawberry.
‘Nnnmmm!’
‘Although,’ he whispered against my lips, ‘Ithink I like this method even better.’
‘Mmmm…nnnmm…!’
So did I, damn him! This was infuriating! Ihad something important to ask him! I had….
What was it I had to ask again?
He deepened the kiss, and it was suddenlyvery hard to remember.
Only when Amy & Co started wolf-whistlingdid I slowly awake from my daze. I glanced over at the three andsaw Cora sitting beside Lord John, and Jenny beside the vicar. Asfor Amy—she was sitting beside too many gentlemen to count, tryingdesperately to fend them off. Sticking my fingers between my lips,I sent a wolf-whistle right back and had the distinct pleasure ofseeing three hardened ladies of the night blush to the roots oftheir hair.
Yay! Victory!
The next hour or so flew by in a whirlwind ofcolour, laughter and delicious food. Everybody stuffed their facesuntil they were near to bursting, and Uncle Bufford even did thesame with boxes underneath the table. Every now and again, one ofmy friends rose to her feet, uttering a toast carefully calculatedto make me blush. Even so, time rushed by and, soon, the suntouched the horizon and the long shadows of trees reached acrossthe meadow.
Leaning back, I folded my hands across mystomach and uttered a contented sigh.
‘I think it’s time to retire to our home forthe day, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ I yawned. ‘I’m rather tired.’
Mr Ambrose’s eyes seemed to flare in thedarkness. ‘I’m not. Not at all.’
My brow furrowed, as I struggled to keep myeyes open. What had that been about? What did he mean?
‘You there!’ Rising to his feet while keepinga steadying arm around my shoulders to support me, Mr Ambrosegestured to one of the boys who had been scurrying about betweenthe tables, distributing dessert. ‘Get the carriage ready, willyou?’
‘Yes, My Lord! Right away, My Lord!’
Soon enough, the carriage rolled up thegravel road and came to a stop a few steps away.
‘Come on.’ Mr Ambrose’s arm tightened aroundme and helped me to my feet. I yawned once again, unable to resist.As he gently led me to the carriage, whistles and catcalls roseinto the air behind us. I blinked drowsily. What was up? Why wouldmy friends be whistling?
‘My Lady?’
Someone held open the coach door for me. Witha little push from Mr Ambrose, I hefted myself into the carriage,and snuggled into the comfortable seat. Mr Ambrose climbed in afterme, but, for some reason, this time none of the others joined us.What about the bridesmaids and my relatives?
‘What are they waiting for?’ I yawned,puzzled.
‘They aren’t coming.’
Blinking, I glanced over at Mr Ambrose.‘Why?’
Closing the carriage door behind him, MrAmbrose turned towards me and reached up to touch my face. ‘Iassume it is because they wish to give us some privacy, MrsAmbrose.’
