Page 196 of Storm over the Caribbean
And I shifted my aim ever so slightly.
Bam!
The road in front of the coach exploded. The horses reared up as gravel sprayed in all directions, bringing the carriage to an abrupt halt.
“Now!”
At my shout, Mr Ambrose moved. He didn’t even wait for our carriage to stop. He just leapt, sailing through the air for a moment before slamming into the side of the other coach, one hand clamping around the brass luggage rack, the other reaching for the man on the box.
“Get your hands off me!” the Frenchman hissed. “Get away, youfils de pu—agh!”34
That was when Mr Ambrose’s hand closed around the other man’s throat, and the bastard flew off the coach, crashing into the road. Mr Ambrose leapt down after him, and landed on theroad in a crouch. The carriage rolled on for a few more yards, then the horses started to slow and finally came to a stop.
However, I wasn’t really looking at the horses at that point. Instead, all my attention was focused on the man sprawled on the road. The key to the safety of my family.
Yes! We’ve got him! We’ve finally got—
Just then, the seat beneath me jerked ominously.
Uh-oh.
Only then did I realise that I was now alone on top of the box of a fast-moving carriage that nobody was steering anymore.
“Oh shitshitcrap!”
Grabbing hold of the bloody reins, I tugged hard, trying desperately to bring the wildly swaying coach back under control. Another screech and thud came from inside the carriage, filling me with a brief burst of satisfaction before I realised that, no, it wouldnotbe worth it to break my neck just to annoy an old biddy who had flirted with my husband.
Probably.
It took three more tugs on the reins and some really inventive cursing at the horses in five separate languages, but finally, I managed to bring the carriage to a halt. With shaking legs, I descended from the box, just in time to hear retching noises from inside the coach.
Oh, my! Is someone not feeling well?
My heart went out to her. Really.
On the plus side, our involuntary passenger seemed to be distracted for the time being. We probably weren’t going to be bothered by her for a while.
I glanced over at Mr Ambrose and the man he had by the collar.
Good. The two of us have work to do.
***
The man with many names blinked, slowly awakening from unconsciousness.
Wait. Unconsciousness? Why was I unconscious?
Just now, he’d been on the road, being chased by those twosacrés fous! And now he was suddenly in a dark room, tied to a chair? How long had he—?
Pain suddenly shot through his head. His stomach roiled, and he felt like he was going to vomit. Taking deep breaths, he just managed to keep his lunch down. The last thing he needed to do right now was to throw up all over the place. He needed to remain calm and composed if he wanted to get out of whatever situation he had gotten himself into. Yes, calm and composed. Slowly, he turned his head to more closely inspect his surroundings—
—and came face to face with Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
“Eaaaaah!”
Merde! Merde! Merde!
“Now,” the monster in every banker’s nightmares, began. “Let’s have a talk, shall we?”
