Page 160 of Storm over the Caribbean
My face hardened. Maybe paying a visit to this “employer” might be a good idea after all.
“Greetings, Mr…” My husband cocked his head. “I think you have yet to introduce yourself.”
“Oh.” The young man winced. “Beg your pardon. I was so focused on my mission that I completely forgot.” Squaring his shoulder, he bowed in my husband’s direction. “Marvin Woolridge, at your service.”
“They call me Rockface.” Mr Ambrose gave a curt nod in return. “At your service, for a price.”
“Naturally, naturally.” The messenger gave us—or more precisely, Captain Rockface—a blinding smile. “You shall be compensated to your fullest satisfaction.”
At that, I had to workreallyhard to keep an evil smirk off my face. Compensate to his fullest satisfaction? Mr Rikkard Ambrose?
Oh my. The poor bastard had no clue what he was in for. I almost felt sorry for him.
The man who tried to drown you and your child.
Almost.
“As soon as you find that abominable blaggard who has been raiding our employer’s ships, of course,” Woolridge added.
“Oh, believe me,” Mr Ambrose assured him, “finding that man will not be difficult for me.”
This time, the evil smirk was simply too powerful to resist, so instead, I hid it behind a hand. Just as I did with the fierce glare I sent at Mr Woolridge.
“Good, good!” Nodding happily, said son of a bachelor sent us a smile and stepped back from the railing. “I suppose we’d better be off then, shouldn’t we?”
“Agreed. Better to not waste time.”
Gesturing to his first mate, Mr Ambrose gave the order to depart. Soon, all five ships unfurled their sales and started moving away from the shore, out onto the ocean.
“Are you really sure about this?” I whispered, repeating my earlier question. Regardless of how very, very much I wanted to smash the head of the bastard behind everything we’d been through, I was acutely aware that there were only two of us, one of whom was very much pregnant. “Heading straight into the lion’s den?”
“We’re not heading into the lion’s den,” he corrected, keeping his voice low—although that didn’t make it any less threatening. “We’re going to the nest of the bird who picks flies out of the lion’s fur. And we’re going to squeeze it until it sings.”
Translation: we’re going to see a front man. The real mastermind is far away. And we’re going to find out where.
“So you plan to…”
“Discover who’s behind this?” His hand shifted towards me, inconspicuously squeezing my hand. “Find out who dared to try and lay a hand on you and our child? Most definitely. And when I find them…” Eyes narrowing infinitesimally, he stared at the messenger’s ship as if he could set it on fire with a look alone. Or, more likely, drop an iceberg on it. “I willmake my displeasure clear.”
I felt a shiver run down my back.
Good. Very good.
But…
“And you’re really going to do this? With only three ships as escort?”
“Yes, I am. And…”
“And?”
“Who says there will only be three?”
My eyes went wide. “You mean…?”
Ice-cold eyes met mine, reminding me of who exactly I was dealing with. Who exactly our enemies were dealing with.
“I mean, Mr Linton, that I am always well prepared.”
