Page 146 of New Storm Rising
“That, um…that’s classified, I’m afraid. Exactly. Classified. I’ll see you both later.”
And, case clutched under his arm, he ran.
“Well, isn’t that nice?” Sidling up, I cupped my dear husband’s cheek with one hand, while the other cupped his pocket. “We’re all alone now. How romantic.”
“Yes. Very. Now stop trying to steal my wallet.”
“One cannot stop what one has already accomplished,” I explained to him in my best wise philosopher imitation, waving the wallet in front of his nose.
A muscle in Mr Ambrose’s cheek twitched. “I am not going to get out of this, am I?”
I grinned. “Not a chance.”
“How about limiting the budget?”
“Budge it? Why would you want to budge it, and what do you mean by ‘it’?”
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he stared at me. “I can certainly see thatsomeoneis not going to budge.”
I patted his cheek. “I’m lucky. I’ve married such an intelligent man.” Then I whirled around and skipped off down the street, his wallet still clutched firmly in my hand.
Three hours and one heavily loaded husband later, we returned to Mama Dumant’s to find the marshal just arriving in front of the door.
“Ah, Mister and Mrs Ambrose, there you are! I just came to inform you that, by morning, things will be ready, and we will be able to depart towards New York.”
“Wonderful,” came an arctic voice from behind the pile of packages with legs beside me. “Absolutely wonderful.”
“Um…” The marshal shifted nervously. “Is something the matter?”
“Nothing major.” I smiled at the lawman reassuringly, waving a certain (now considerably slimmer) wallet in the air. “At least not anymore.”
“Ah. I see.” The lawman cleared his throat diplomatically. Half-turning, he glanced up at the sign above the door of Mama Dumant’s. “Do you think this establishment still has free rooms? I was so busy with work up until now I have yet to find somewhere to rest for the night, and this place looks quite enticing.”
The pile of packages with legs stiffened.
As for me? I grinned. Widely. “Oh, yes! I’m sure you’ll find plenty to…entice you there.”
Still smiling widely, I stalked towards the marshal. It may have been at Mr Ambrose’s instigation—but nevertheless, this supposed salesman had been fooling me and leading me by the nose for weeks. Time to turn the tables for a bit.
Unless, of course, he and the ladies will be doing itonthe table.
“Come.” Linking arms with the marshal, I led him to the door, completely ignoring the hissed protests from behind the pile of packages. “I’ll introduce you to the owner of the establishment. I’m sure she and her staff will be able to fulfil your every wish.”
“That sounds amazing. I wonder why nobody at the judge’s house told me that there’s such a comfy little hotel in town.”
“They probably just wouldn’t want to share their favourite haunt. Now, let me introduce you to Mama Dumant…”
We didn’t see the marshal again that evening. Later that day, when we sat at dinner, not only was he missing, but so were three of the ladies. From above, I could hear the faint squeaking of bedsprings, along with half-choked groans.
“My compliments, Madame Dumant.” I inclined my head to the woman at the other end of the table. “Your staff is really most diligent.”
“You betcha!” Giving me a big smile, she pushed an extra-large bowl of chocolate desert in my direction. “And if you ever feel like acquiring their services yourself…”
She was interrupted by the clearing of a frosty throat. Lifting an eyebrow each, we two ladies glanced over at the icy business mogul who had so rudely interrupted us. “Yes?”
He met my gaze. His eyes full of iron determination, he spoke, “You already spent all my money.”
Damn! He just had to be so darn logical, did he?
