Page 83 of New Storm Rising
“Um…perhaps we can re-discuss this at a later date?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Mentally, I made a note to keep my big mouth shut around certain significant dates. With any luck, I would say “Crap!” around my next anniversary, and he would give me a present of…
Well, the less said the better.
With another peck on Mr Ambrose’s cheek, I quickly turned back towards the ginormous steaming pot on the stove and once more started stirring. Ten minutes later, I stepped out of the house with a large pot in my arms. Starting down the meandering forest path, I soon stepped out from between the trees, panting under the weight of the steaming monstrosity.
“Dinner, everyone!” I yelled.
Instantly, Karim came racing forward, nearly stumbling over his feet in his rush to reach me. Before I could blink, he tried to grab the entire pot of stew.
“Err…hungry, much?”
“Give me that,” he harrumphed, tugging the massive kettle out of my hands. “I am under orders that you are not to carry heavy things!”
“Orders? From whom? And why?”
“Ehem…” His gaze flicked to my stomach, before he suddenly showed distinct interest in the songbirds up in the trees. “From, um…someone. And the reason is…something.”
I stared at him, meaningfully, raising an eyebrow.
“Um…I’m really, really hungry?” he tried a second time, hugging the pot.
“Well…” I eyed him up and down. “I guess yousomehowhad to grow this big.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, um, quite right. Let’s go eat.” And he bustled off towards the tables and benches that I’d ordered to be set up.
“Everyone!” I called out, banging on a pan with a ladle. “Gather round! Gather round!”
The dusty, grimy figures of the new miners approached, their eyes lighting up as they caught a whiff of the smell. “What be this, Ma’am?”
“Dinner,” I grinned. “Courtesy of Mr Rikkard Ambrose.”
“Really?” the man beamed. “Mr Ambrose be so generous!”
“Indeed,” came a voice from behind me. “Sometimes evenIam surprised by how generous I am.”
Oh, blast.
“Ehem…yes, you are.” Beaming, I turned towards Mr Ambrose, quickly hugging him, making sure to press his arms to his sides, so I was safe from any counterattack. “My generosity yesterday must have inspired you. I’m so proud of you, my darling arm candy!”
I would have to set up a soup kitchen in town later, just to make certain everyone else knew how marvellously generous he was.
“Oh? So you are proud of me, are you?” my dear husband enquired, his eyes glittering coolly at the steaming pot in a way that made me think he didnotlike onions and potatoes. “Do you wish me to statemycurrent feelings regardingyou? Or should I refrain?”
“Um…perhaps you can tell me later.” Keeping hold of one arm, I dragged him over to the table, intent on stuffing his mouth with a stew gag as soon as possible. “Now let’s have dinner, shall we, darling?”
“Why don’t you first explain how three ten-dollar notes in my wallet were replaced by a grocer’s bill for vegetables?”
“Waiter!” I waved at a nearby turban towering over a massive pot. “Waiter, two portions of stew over here, pronto!”
Grumpily, a certain bodyguard filled and handed over two bowls full of stew. “Here!”
I grinned. “Why, thank you,garçon.”
