Page 196 of New Storm Rising
“Did you really think we were going out here just to enjoy the sea air?” Raising his hand, he pointed over his shoulder. I craned my neck to see what he was talking about. It still was a mystery to me how people managed to steer rowing boats, when they actually had to look in the opposite direction from the one they were going in. But Mr Ambrose seemed to manage it without the slightest problem. Squinting, I tried to peek over Mr Rikkard Ambrose’s shoulder, something which is bloody harder than it sounds. Does this infernal man have to be taller than me even when sitting down?
I still couldn’t see anything out here we could possibly be heading to. There was only the wide, open ocean, the sun in the sky, a few ships on the horizon, and the Statue of—
I caught my breath.
I’d seen it before, of course. In pictures, and from a distance. But let me tell you, what from a distance looked like a lady dressed in a big bed sheet was a darn sight more impressive up close! The towering light green figure seemed to pierce the very sky with her torch, the crown upon her head shining slightly in the sunlight.
“You know…” Cocking my head, I gazed up at the statue. “I just realized, this place prides itself on being a democracy, and the most famous monument in the entire country wears a massive, spikey crown? Is it just me, or does that make no sense whatsoever?”
“It was built by humans, Mrs Ambrose. Who says it has to make sense?”
I took a deep breath of sea air, still unable to look away from the beautiful vista that was the Statue of Liberty. “Maybe they just thought a crown would be fitting for the most beautiful lady in the country.”
“Indeed?” His deep, cool voice was like a caress as he reached over to brush his thumb across my cheek. “Well, if that is what they thought, they chose wrong.”
I felt my heart leap.
Damn this man! How can someone who rarely ever squeezes a few words out come up with stuff like that?
I still hadn’t found the answer to the question by the time our boat touched the coast of Bedloe’s Island.[42]Only the grinding of wood on sand tore me from my thoughts.
“Shall we?” Blinking, I glanced up to see Mr Rikkard Ambrose already standing on the shore, his hand extended towards me. A smile spread over my face as I took the outstretched hand and, together, we headed towards the towering colossus of metal and stone. When we reached the foot of the statue, however, I came to a stop. Noticing, Mr Ambrose halted as well and turned around, gazing at me questioningly.
“Mrs Ambrose?”
I stared into his eyes. “Why?”
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“Why here?” My eyes narrowed. “Why did you bring me here, of all places?”
“Why, for our sightseeing tour, of course.”
“Not buying it.” Stepping forward, I jabbed his chest with a finger. I knew my husband. Mr Rikkard Ambrose never did anything without adequate reason. Not. One. Single. Thing. “I know that absence-of-a-look on your face! Tell me now! Why did you bring me here?”
He gazed at me for a long, long moment—then, stepping forward, captured my face in his hands.
“You won’t ever be restricted, my littleifrit. You won’t ever be restrained or confined.” Glancing up at the statue reaching for the sky for a moment, he once more speared me with his gaze, his deep, dark, fathomless eyes enough for me to drown in. “That’s why you’re here, Mrs Ambrose. So that you’ll realize, married or not, you will always fly free, fly free as a bird.”
Then, without another word, he whirled around and strode into the interior of the statue. I, for my part, just stood there for a long moment, a lump in my throat—then determination rose within me, and I dashed after him. After my future.
Time passed in a whirl. We wandered through the entirety of the statue’s echoing interior, gazed out from the windows at the top of the crown and last, but definitely not least, ended up in front of a narrow ladder.
Mr Ambrose gestured towards the ladder.
“Ladies first.”
I stared suspiciously at the ladder leading up through a metal pipe. “What’s up there?”
“Why don’t you go and find out?” He cocked his head. “Or are you scared?”
My foot was on the ladder before I’d even had the chance to think about it. Damn the man to hell for knowing me so well!
As I climbed, I felt him staying close on my heels, his body tense and ready. I could practically hear the words he did not speak out loud:if you fall, I will always be there to catch you.
I felt a surge of warmth in my heart.
That is, until I stuck my head out onto the platform at the top of the statue’s torch.[43]
