Page 212 of New Storm Rising
Angleton cleared his throat. “Um…did I say something wrong?”
No. No, just opening your mouth was already wrong enough. Or existing, for that matter.
Since his existence was so troublesome, I decided to simply ignore it for the moment. Instead, I turned my full attention to my wife, who still had that half-lost, half-terrified look on her face. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and reached out towards her. I had to help her. I had to—
The expression on her face shifted, turning from fear to fury.
—get out of here right this instant! Because, if my male intuition didn’t fail me, she had just figured out who had gotten her in the family way and neglected to mention it for the last few weeks. Pushing my chair back, I moved to stand and—
“Mister! Rikkard! Ambrose!”
—realised that, for the first time in my life, I was too late.
Fiddlesticks.
Well, since I was going down, I might as well take someone with me. Turning my head, I fixed my icy gaze on one Marshal Angus Angleton, who currently looked like he had just realised he was sitting on a bomb and should change seats.
“Um…ehem…” Slipping off his chair, the lawman took a few hurried steps backwards. Coward. “I think…I think I suddenly remember that I’ve got something very important to deal with. Yes, there’s a…a very dangerous individual on the loose.” He glanced back and forth between me and my lady wife. “Maybe even two. And if I don’t leave right now, an innocent person might be severely injured. In fact, I’m pretty sure he will be.”
Accurate deduction.
Reaching for the nearest table knife, I moved to stand. Sadly, the lawman had exceedingly good survival instincts. Immediately, he turned and ran. In the blink of an eye, he had crossed the street and was racing away from the harbour.
Sagging back into my seat, I did my very best to kill him by impaling his back with an icy glare. Unfortunately, that meant I was distracted and did not see the attack coming.
“Mister! Rikkard! Ambrose!”
Two familiar, feminine hands grabbed hold of my lapels.
Ah. Apparently, the pursuit of the marshal will have to wait.
Turning towards my wife, I cleared my throat.
“Now, now, Mrs Ambrose, don’t do anything rash—”
“Rash? Rash?Rash? Don’t talk to me about rash!”
“We will have to, sooner or later,” I told her, trying to sound as rational as I could. “According to my information, rashes are a common symptom of pregnancy and—”
“You…!”
Apparently, she did not appreciate my perfectly reasonable argument. At least I assumed as much from the half-eaten slice of toast she had flung at my face. Luckily, I had always been good at dodging.
“You…you knew from the very beginning!” She stared up at me, her eyes wide open and vulnerable. “After your wedding night, you suddenly feel sick and begin regurgitating. I wonder why that is.You knew that I was pregnant all this time! You practically told me to my face, and I still didn’t realise! I can’t believe I didn’t realise…! How stupid am I, exactly?”
I hesitated for a moment. “Do you truly wish me to answer that?”
“Shut up!”
“I shall take that as a no, then.”
Her reaction to that was to jump up from her seat, storm off down the street and…leave me alone to pay the bill?
Well, she certainly knew how to get revenge on people.
Throwing a few coins at the waiter (along with a glare that told him not to expect a tip today), I leapt up from my chair and stormed after my wife. Considering her condition, she was astoundingly fast. By the time I was up on my feet, she was already halfway down the street. For a minute or two, I found myself unable to catch up to her—until she suddenly stopped in her tracks.
I had no idea what had caused her to stop, but right then, I didn’t care. In the blink of an eye, I had caught up to her—and when I glimpsed her face, and the hand lightly resting on her stomach, I could guess what the reason might be.
