Page 201 of New Storm Rising
“I think you’ve been working too hard. This is our honeymoon. How would you like to join me in a game of poker?”
The unholy light that flickered in my husband’s cold eyes should probably have tipped me off about what was going to happen. Instantly, he put his documents aside.
“It would be my pleasure, Mrs Ambrose.”
Half an hour and half my monthly wages vanishing later…
“You, Mr Rikkard Ambrose, are afiend! A menace! A threat to all hard-working women of the world!”
“Why, thank you, Mrs Ambrose.”
“That wasnotsupposed to be a compliment!”
“It was not? Well, I will have to content myself with my winnings, then.”
And, not sparing me another glance, he started raking in the piles of coins from the centre of the table. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Now that you’ve won big, you won’t mind treating me to something nice, will you?”
“Certainly. As far as I am aware, there are a lot of tanners in town who are quite excellent at treating leather. For a modest fee, they should be able to treat wives as well.”
My fingers twitched. That son of a…!
Then, inspiration struck.
“Ooohh…!” I groaned, my face twisting into a pained grimace.
Instantly, Mr Ambrose’s head snapped up. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I…I don’t know. I feel strange. A little sick. I think…I think I really need…”
“Yes?!”
“…a dinner in an expensive restaurant and an evening out at the theatre.”
A muscle in Mr Ambrose’s cheek twitched. “What a curious bout of sickness.”
“Yes, very curious indeed, isn’t it? And very intense.” I batted my eyelashes up at him. “I feel it needs to be cured immediately, or the symptoms might get worse.”
“Is that so?” Cocking his head, Mr Ambrose gazed at me for a long moment—then rose to his feet and extended his arm. “Very well. I hear there is a performance of Shakespeare’sMeasure for Measurerunning on Broadway. It’s a story about a pregnant woman being sent to prison for her wicked deeds. Very interesting subject, isn’t it?”
“Ah, yes. Very interesting indeed.” I nodded, taking his outstretched arm with a smile. “I hear her crime was fornicating with her man, and he ends up being hanged for it. Sounds like a brilliant play to me!”[44]
That night, for the first time, I truly learned to appreciate the genius that was William Shakespeare. I never knew a visit to the theatre could be this much fun. Afterwards, we strolled through the streets and once more enjoyed the food from various vendors. The only hitch in the evening occurred when an over-eager vendor tried to interest sweet, pregnant little me in a bottle of wine, and Mr Ambrose nearly scalped the vendor.
I made a mental note that maybe, possibly, at some point in the future, I would have a little chat with my hubby about being too overprotective. Maybe once the sight of him chasing the vendor around the street had ceased to be amusing.
Any moment now…
Any moment now…
Nah. It would probably still take a while.
The next few days continued in the same manner, minus the death threats against hapless vendors. We toured the entirety of the city and its surroundings, for the first time making our honeymoon feel truly honeymoonish, the ship loaded with honey and moonshine notwithstanding. Finally, our stay culminated in all the remaining accomplices of De Ravera and De La Fuente being sentenced by the courts. Truly amazing how, without expensive lawyers paid by Spanish noblemen blocking the way, the trial ended a lot faster than anticipated.
Then, finally, came the most romantic part of the entire honeymoon. The thing I had been waiting for all along. The thing I couldn’t live without. Can you guess what it is?
Well, the answer is simple. Together, Mr Ambrose and I…
