New Storm Rising

03. A Generous Benefactor

I watched with interest as the ship in the distance made its way towards us. The course it was taking was rather...unorthodox. A zigzag line bent by eighty-seven degrees wasn't something you got to see every day.

"Do ye think the captain of that ship enjoys a good cup of wine or ten occasionally?" one of the sailors whispered.

My stomach lurched.

"Please!" I moaned. "Don't mention wine. Or liquids. Or anything else food-related."

"That ship..." Mr Ambrose moved to my side, his eyes narrowing infinitesimally. "I very much doubt that wine, or any other kind of alcoholic drink, is the root of the problem. No sailor worth his salt would ever sail like this. Something seems fishy here."

"You...did you hear what I just said about not mentioning food?"

"But we do not really have to concern ourselves with this. We have bigger fish to fry."

This husband of mine was truly amazingly talented at listening to his wife, was he not? I was going to have to make very sure to show my gratitude during our honeymoon.

"Hm..." Eyes narrowing imperceptibly once again, "They've sped up. And they're truly heading this way. Seems like they are intent on pursuing us. But if they want anything from us, they will definitely eat humble pie and won't get away with paying peanuts. I won't let anyone take advantage of us and eat us out of house and home."

Grabbing the railing, I quickly leaned forward. "Bluuurgh! Grrg!"

"No need to bow to thank me. After all, you can be considered the apple of my eye."

"Bleeargh!"

By the time I resurfaced from beyond the railing once again, the ship had already gotten quite close to us. There were people scattered over the deck, some even hanging from the rigging. Dark-skinned people. Everybody was waving wildly, clearly trying to get our attention.

"Do you...still want to try...and avoid them?" I panted, clutching my stomach. I was tempted to ram an elbow into his, just to share some marital burdens—but I could not help notice how one of his arms lay around my shoulders, or how his other hand was holding my hair out of my face. I felt a tug at my heart.

Dammit! If he's being an arse, why does he have to be a bloody romantic arse?

"No. Not now." He shook his head, his expression as cool as a cucumber. "They're directly in our course now. If we try to avoid them, it would just waste more time than dealing with this. No use crying over spilled milk. With me here, dealing with whatever comes will be as easy as pie."

To hell with romance! I was going to get this bastard! Oh yes, I was really looking forward to our honeymoon nights. As soon as he was in my hands, I would...mwahahaha...

Insert cackling villainess rubbing her hands together.

"Ferguson!" Mr Ambrose barked. Apparently, he'd had enough of food metaphors for one day. "Telescope!"

A sailor rushed up to hand him the requested object and, lifting it to his eye, Mr Ambrose swept his gaze over the ship in the distance. His already stiff figure turned into ice on the spot.

"Mr Linton?"

"Yes?"

"Go below deck. Now!"

"And you think that commanding tone of yours is going to work on me why, exactly?"

Without a word, he handed me the telescope.

Raising it to my eye, I shifted the telescope until I'd found the ship, and saw...