Page 25 of Storm over the Caribbean
Yay! Victory!
Feeling very satisfied with myself, I strolled towards home, arm-in-arm with the most amazing husband ever. Several moments passed in companionable silence. Then…
“Mrs Ambrose?”
“Yes?”
A hand clasped mine, squeezing. “Are you uninjured?”
I squeezed back. “I’m all right.”
A pause.
“Adequate.”
Like I said. Most. Amazing. Husband. Ever.
“You know,” I told him, “after all this, I feel kind of tired. Once we’re home, I think I’m going to need a bath. And something to eat.” I gave a sigh. “I know that normally, as a dutiful housewife, that would be my job to prepare meals, but the pregnancy is really draining, and right now, I don’t quite feel up to it.”
Ruthlessly, I batted my eyelashes up at him. Puppy eyes on!
He swallowed. “I…shall take care of the meal.”
“And?” I prompted.
“And…I…shall make sure the servants run you a bath.”
“Why, thank you!” I beamed. “Oh, you know. I could use a backrub, too.”
That muscle in his cheek twitched again. “I will be…”
“Happy,” I suggested.
“…happyto do that for you.”
Slinging my arm around his waist, I hugged him close with a triumphant grin. Yippee! Being pregnant was awesome!
***
“Blleeaaargh! Blurgh! Gghk!”
Being pregnant washell! Utter, complete, unadulteratedhell!
I resurfaced from my bucket for just long enough to drag in a breath, then bent forward again. “Bluuurgh!”
“Would you like to eat your meal now?” My kind husband chose this moment to enquire. “Or should I show you the way to the bathroom?”
Lifting my head, I sent him a malevolent glare. “Would you like to spend the night in the dog house?”
“This place does not have a dog house.”
Reaching out, I grabbed a nearby rope hanging from the ceiling and tugged. In the distance, a bell rang. A moment later, the door opened and a maid stuck her head into the room.
“You rang, My Lady?”
“Yes. Please hire a carpenter and have a dog house built on the property before nightfall.”
“A…dog house?”
