Page 229 of Storm over the Caribbean
Oh boy. This was bad.
I swallowed. Slowly, hesitantly, I moved forward until I stood in front of the crumpled paper ball. Supporting myself against the wall, I managed to bend down just far enough to snatch it with my fingertips and unfold it.
To Mr Rikkard Ambrose—
What the heck! This was a letter from his father, and it started with “to Mr Rikkard Ambrose”?
Of course it did.
—I am severely disappointed that, in spite of repeated reminders, you have thus far neglected to respond to my letters. I thought that, last time we met face to face, I already made it clear that I would expect you to abandon your foolish flights of fancy and finally perform your duty—
“Duty?” I whispered, glancing up at Mr Ambrose. “What duty? What is he talking about?”
He very pointedly didnotanswer.
In search of answers, I once more lowered my eyes to the letter.
—duty. Especially now that you have entered into a marriage and I have received news of your wife expecting your heir. Your mother and sister were very disappointed that you neglected to inform them of this fact. They are very eager for you to visit again.
Oh my. Ambrose senior was an amazing manipulator, wasn’t he?
Still, while I was curious to find out what all this talk of duty was about, I didn’t see what any of the letter’s contents had to do with the current situation. Our enemy was a Frenchman! What did he have to do with Mr Ambrose’s father, or his home in Northern England?
Plus, it’s not as if Ambrose Senior’s manipulations would even work. Using Mr Ambrose’s sister and mother to lure him north? Ha! My dear husband would just wait till the two ladies’ patience wore thin and both of them came south. So why was he wasting time with this letter now of all times? Why would he—?
That question was answered the moment the next paragraph caught my eye.
As an aside, a guest recently arrived at Battlewood that you might be interested in meeting. He informed me that the two of you had met in the past, during one of your visits to France, and thus I decided to invite him to stay for the time being to ameliorate your mother’s and sister’s loneliness. The Vicomte de Saint-Celeste, despite his lack of Anglo-Saxon ancestry, is a respectable gentleman. In the time since his arrival, Adaira and he have become quite close and it is my hope that—
At that point, the letter dropped from my hands.
“Oh crap,” I stated.
Glancing over at Mr Rikkard Ambrose, I saw him staring at the letter with a ferocious glare that should have frozen and shattered it on the spot.
There was a moment of silence. Then…
“We’re leaving for Battlewood Hall. Tomorrow at sunrise.”
I just nodded.
Taking a step forward, he enfolded me in his arms and held me for a long, long moment. In any other situation, I might have made a joke about him wasting time or something like that…but now?
This was no time for jokes.
Mr Ambrose seemed to agree. Abruptly, he let go of me. Striding over to the letter, he stamped his foot down on it, flattening the thing to the floor. “Karim!”
It only took three seconds for the bodyguard to appear.
“Yes,Sahib?”
“Prepare everything for our departure to the north tomorrow. Full complement of guards. Arms and supplies, as well as spare horses. We’ll be heading to Battlewood.”
“To Battlewood?” Karim frowned. “I do not mean to question you,Sahib, but…now of all times?”
“I plan to have words with my father,” Mr Ambrose stated, the words, coming from him, sounding like the world’s worst threat. “And with a certain Frenchman.”
Karim’s eyes widened. Then he sprang to attention, his face hardening. “At once,Sahib!”
