Page 6 of Storm over the Caribbean
Translation: You will have a real home. You and our child.
I swallowed. “True. That would be an egregious waste of money.”
“Correct. Then we shall proceed.” Reaching up, he slammed his cane against the roof of the carriage. “Karim, drive!”
A whip cracked and, with the clattering of wheels on cobblestones, we set off. A contented smile spread across my face, I snuggled into the surprisingly comfortable upholstery and closed my eyes. We would be going home. Home, where—
I froze.
Something had occurred to me.
Mr Ambrose hadbought a home. Mr Rikkard Purse-Strings-Are-Not-Meant-to-Open Ambrose.
Cautiously, I opened one eye.
“Say…the ‘home’ we’re going to…it isn’t by any chance a ruin in the East End, right?”
“No.”
“An old warehouse by the docks?”
“No.”
“And…you didn’t do anything like with your manor, which just so happened to be used as a furniture shop on the side?”
“No, of course not.” He turned towards me and gazed deeply and earnestly into my eyes. “Nothing of the kind. I swear, the place we are going to is primarily used as a domicile.”
Mollified, I closed my eyes once more and sank back into the upholstery. After all, surely my beloved husband wouldn’t try to trick me.
Right?
Facing the Music
“I swear, the place we are going to is primarily used as a domicile?”
“I did not lie,” Mr Ambrose replied. “Technically.”
I felt my fingers twitch. “Then what, pray,” I enquired as I lifted one hand to point at the entrance door in front of us, “isthat?”
Mr Ambrose followed my outstretched finger with his gaze to where, above the entrance of the luxurious house in front of us, a sign proclaimed:
Emerald Meadow Racetrack Hotel & Casino
(Access to Emerald Meadow Racetrack Not Included in Room Prices)
“In retrospect,” he stated, “perhaps I should have had the sign taken down before we came here.”
I gave him a sweet smile, the doom of all husbands with pregnant wives. “Oh no, why would that be necessary? After all, how could I possibly demand you stop making money for the benefit of your wife and your unborn child.”
An arm came around me, pulling me close. “I am lucky to have such a kind and understanding wife.”
“Mr Ambrose?”
“Yes?”
“Have you perchance encountered something called ‘sarcasm’ before?”
He considered this for a moment.
