Page 240 of Storm of Bells
Or maybe it is after all.
My gaze zeroed in on the man who had justspoken. Captain James Carter. Did I not have this bug shipped offto Africa? I would have to have a word with the head of my shippingdepartment. And the word would not be ‘promotion’.
But first, I would have to make this Carterdisappear. My eyes boring into him with lethal force, I watched ashe bowed to my wife and muttered some more meaninglesscongratulations. Then he turned and rushed off.
‘Hm…’ I gazed after the captainspeculatively. ‘His behaviour has certainly improved. He’s learnedto keep away from where he is not wanted.’
‘Yes,’ my new wife coughed, clearlysuppressing her amusement for some reason. ‘That’s why he ran offso fast. Definitely.’
My eyes narrowed infinitesimally as my gazeonce again flicked to the retreating back of Captain James Carter,who was still heading off…
…after mysister.
On second thought, maybe him disappearingmight not be such a good idea after all. He should stay right hereso I could take care of himpersonally. He would—
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted as twosoft hands captured my face, pulling me down. A moment later, apair of lips caressed my own, making my thoughts fizzle out. Whatwas I planning on doing again?
Ah, yes! Kissing my wife!
For a long, long moment we simply stayed likethis, not noticing or caring about anything but each other and theway our lips danced together. I could stay like this forever. Icould—
‘Congratulations.’
—eviscerate whoever was idiotic enough tointerrupt us.
Separating from my new wife just far enough,I turned my head to check who was suicidal, only to comeface-to-face with a…vulture?
Ah, no. That was my new aunt-in-law.
My wife glanced over at the vulture,continued kissing me for about a minute longer, and only thenturned to her aunt with a beaming smile. ‘Hello, Aunt Brank.’
At least she seems to have her prioritiesstraight.
The expression on the vulture’s facesuggested she didn’t entirely share my view of the matter,though.
‘I hope…hope you will be…will be very…’Swallowing hard, she started squeezing out words with morereluctance than anyone I had ever encountered, including myself.Quite an impressive feat. ‘…happy.’
‘Thanks so much, Aunty!’ Throwing her armsaround the old woman, my wife hugged her close, smirking. It wasthe first time in my life I had felt envious of an emaciated oldbiddy. ‘And don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll be very happy.’
I sucked in an abrupt breath. Over my longyears as a businessman, I had learned to read people very well.Most of the words spoken to her aunt just now had been cheeky,irreverent…but that last sentence? That had been the truth, thewhole truth and nothing but the truth.
Yes, I silently vowed in the frozenrock that was my chest.Yes, you will be. I’ll make sure ofit.
The proceedings continued. Well-wisher afterwell-wisher came up to bow and curtsy. Some young women came up todeliver death-threats in case, and I quote, ‘you don’t bloody treatLilly the way she deserves, you darn chauvinist son of abachelor!’
Assumedly, they were her friends.
Then came her sister, who became irrationallyemotional and started excreting copious amounts of ocular fluids. Iquickly blocked out reality and started mentally calculating thisyear’s profits of my South American import business. Normally, thatwould have kept me satisfactorily occupied for quite a while. Buttoday?
Today was the day before my wedding night.Somehow, calculating profits, no matter how enormous, didn’t holdthe same fascination as usual.
Finally, it was time to depart. As traditiondictated for some reason, my wife’s guardians led the way out ofthe church, and Karim, in his role as best man, brought up therear. We were just approaching the church door, when…
‘It’s time, girls! Aim and fire!’
Instinctively, I ducked, reaching for therevolver tucked away under my tailcoat—only to be hit in the faceby a fistful of rice.
Spitting out several grains of rice, I sentan icy stare at the young women who had decided it was a good ideato pelt the British Empire’s most powerful business mogul withseeds of the grass speciesOryza sativa. In answer, theyoung women smirked and hurled another load of rice my way.
