Page 236 of Storm over the Caribbean
Enough wondering. Time to get some answers!
“Mrs Ambrose.” Stepping up to her from behind, I scrutinised her carefully. “You seem to be very satisfied?”
She half-turned and sent me a bright, happy smile. Knowing my wife, a littletoohappy. “And why wouldn’t I be? I’m with my darling husband! And it seems like preparations for the event are going great!”
“I would agree—”
“Spiffing!”
“—ifyou had told me by now what this event is supposed to be all about.”
“Shh!” She placed a finger on her lips and leaned closer in a manner that was about as conspiratorial as a man with a hooked nose in a black cloak with the word “conspirator” printed on his hat. “You don’t want to be a spoilsport, do you? It’s meant to be a surprise.”
As mentioned above, I didn’t like mysteries. I liked surprises even less.
“I frequently spoil sports. Most often by ensuring people bet on the wrong team and then raking in their hard-earned money.”
Rather than finally answer my question, she only responded with another smile and a wink. Then she slipped off into the crowd and started chasing people hither and thither, obviously preparing for…something. And were those the three harpies, also known as my wife’s best friends?
Suddenly, I felt a looming sense of doom approaching. Not that I let it bother me. If I let a little thing like doom get in my way, I would not be Rikkard Ambrose.
“Well!” Lilly clapped her hands, suddenly popping up beside me, a bright smile on her face. “Seems like everything is ready.”
On the other hand, this was my wife. There were worse things than doom.
“Adequate,” I stated, hoping it really would be. “Then perhaps you can tell me why so many of the people coming to your little ‘event’ happen to be women. And while you are at it, you can finally tell me what this whole event is all about.”
“Well, how shall I put this…”
In a straightforward manner, preferably.
“…sometimes a banner says more than a thousand words.”
Reaching out, she pointed behind me. I turned around just in time to see a banner rise above the podium. A banner which readRikkard Ambrose Foundation for Women’s Suffrage and Equal Rights—stand up and live your dream!
No.
No, she didn’t.
After only a moment of staring at the banner, I turned around to see an absolutely massive grin spread across her face.
Yes, she absolutely did.
“Mrs Ambrose?”
“Yes, Dicky Darling?”
“What. Is. This?”
My voice was calm. Cold. Serene. I sure as hell wasn’t, though.
“Ah.” With a completely innocent smile on her face, she nodded. “I get why you’re surprised. Originally, I had intended to call it theLillian Ambrose Women’s Foundation for Suffrage and Equal Rights, but then I thought—why not name it after my beloved husband instead?”
How about survival instincts? Always a sufficient reason. For most people, anyhow.
Snuggling up against me, she promptly proved how few of those she had.
“What better present could there be to celebrate our return from our honeymoon?”
