Page 77 of Storm over the Caribbean (Storm and Silence Saga #8)

Good to see my reputation precedes me.

“But don’t let me interrupt you,” I told the honourable officer of the law. One of my hands rose to make a quick gesture and, by pure coincidence, Karim appeared beside me, his sabre drawn. “You were speaking of executions?”

The bluebottle took a step back, his knees shaking ever so slightly.

His weren’t the only ones. I had long since mastered the art of speaking softly in such a way as to be heard by everyone.

The entire crowd of law enforcement officers stopped in their tracks.

They did not look very eager to enforce anymore.

“Um…Mr A-A-Ambrose?” one of the policemen squeezed out. “ That Mr Ambrose?”

“Is there another?”

Dumbly, the bobby shook his head.

Let’s see…rank insignia…a sergeant?

Quickly, I glanced around.

And the highest-ranking person present, apparently. A fact that he seemed to be very much regretting at this moment. The man swallowed.

“T-to what do I owe the p-pleasure of your p-presence?”

“Nothing special.” My voice could have frozen a volcano.

“You know. Mingling. Relaxing.” My head turned to look at Lillian.

Whole. Healthy. Beautiful. Had I been angry with her before?

I couldn’t quite remember. Reaching out, I grabbed hold of her hand and held it tightly. “Spending time with my wife .”

“W-wife?”

If the sergeant had been pale before, it was nothing compared to now. Ah. So he was starting to understand, was he?

Too late.

“Yes. Wife.” With one very deliberate step, I placed myself between the man and the most important woman in the world. My woman. And…my child. “Wife. As in love, honour and protect .”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a face-splitting grin spread across my wife’s visage. So she was enjoying this, was she?

More than could be said for the bobby in front of me.

“P-protect?”

I did not answer for a moment. Instead, I slowly and purposefully pulled off my gloves. Fixing the man with my gaze, I lifted the walking cane that was hiding my sword used only for special occasions.

“Yes. Protect. From anything…” The cane, sword still sheathed within, rose to point at the policeman in front of me. It was surely pure coincidence that it was aimed straight at his jugular. “…or anyone .”

Without daring to hesitate, every single one of the policemen present let go of their targets and took a step back.

“So…” Eyes narrowing infinitesimally, I leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart and I could smell the stench of his fear. “Keeping in mind that I will do anything to protect my wife…Tell me, what were you doing just now?”

The sergeant’s mouth opened. Then his eyes flicked away from my face to something behind me.

What could make him disregard me at this moment in time?

Glancing over my shoulder, I immediately spotted it.

The banner that read Rikkard Ambrose Foundation for Women’s Suffrage and Equal Rights—stand up and live your dream!

Turning back towards the policeman, I caught his gaze, terrified and confused in equal measure. Cocking my head, I met his eyes without blinking.

Yes, this whole thing was my idea. I am a paragon of feminism, weren’t you aware?

Leaning forward, I lowered my voice until only the man in front of me could hear. “You approached my pregnant wife with a truncheon in hand at an event I personally planned. So, with that in mind, think carefully about your answer to this question. What. Were. You. Doing. Just. Now?”

A tremor went through the sergeant’s body. The look in his eyes… I had seen it before. It was the look of a man who feared he might die if he lied, but who knew he would die if he dared to tell the truth.

“I, Um…” The man’s tongue flicked out, wetting his dry lips. “N-nothing, really, Sir. Just passing through, you know? Relaxing a bit and all that.”

“And your…” My eyes swept over the rest of the men, who quailed under the weight of my gaze. “…acquaintances?”

“Err…” The good sergeant raised a hand to scratch the back of his head. “Taking a walk in the park?”

I caught and held the man’s gaze for a long, long moment. He didn’t dare look away. Finally, I nodded.

“Ah, I see.”

The policeman seemed almost as taken aback by that as my wife did.

“Y-you do?” he stuttered.

“Oh yes.” I inclined my head again, gaze piercing the men in uniform.

“Helmets, truncheons, handcuffs…certainly the standard equipment for casual walks in the park.” Cocking my head, I sent a meaningful glance at the crowd of bruised and angry females who were currently converging on the policemen—along with several of my hidden bodyguards.

Calmly, I returned my gaze to the sergeant.

“What do you think, should I and my men come for a ‘walk’ to Scotland Yard?”

The officer gulped. His gaze flicked to the towering form of Karim who was currently caressing his sabre. “M-M-Mr Ambrose, Sir, you wouldn’t—”

“Or,” I continued, cutting the man off before he could wet himself, “I could just have a chat with your superiors.”

“Byallmeanscomevisitus! We’dbehappytowelcomeyouanytime,Sir!”

“Adequate. Now…” I turned and, without paying any further attention to the flat-footed lackwit, lest I changed my mind about squashing him where he stood, did what I should have done before this whole farce started: take my wife’s arm and walk away.

After a few steps, though, I paused and glanced over my shoulder.

“My wife and I will be leaving. Any objections?”

“No objections, Sir! None at all!”

“Adequate.”

Arm in arm with my lady wife, I strode past the sergeant—then suddenly stopped again, right beside a figure who had fallen into the dirt. For a long moment, I held the gaze of the woman I had promised to throw into debtor’s prison—then I knelt in the dirt and offered her a hand.

She stared at it as if contemplating whether to take it or bite it off. Finally, she settled on the former and let herself be pulled to her feet. The two of us remained like that for a moment, gazes locked in an unblinking battle. Evaluating. Judging.

“Hm…” I hummed in contemplation. She didn’t quail once under my glare, or even twitch.

Instead, she sent one of her own right back at me.

It paled in comparison to the monsters I’d had to stare down during the darker time of my life—but she had a spine.

I suppose the debtor’s prison would have to remain empty if it meant my wife could keep her…

friend. Reluctantly, I inclined my head at her. “Yes. Adequate.”

She huffed. “I suppose you’ll do.”

Your friend? Yes. And I have already and plan to again at the earliest opportunity.

Not that I would say this out loud. Firstly, because I did not wish to deal with an irate feminist, and secondly, well…

Glancing at my wife who was gazing at me with fiery eyes, I was once again reminded of the great truth that, sometimes, words simply were not needed.

Sliding an arm around her waist, I turned and led her out of the park.

For the first time since the day began, I didn’t feel so irate about this whole event anymore.

Not with my wife in my arms and the look in her eyes promising so, so much more.

I was a greedy man.