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My hand slammed against his top hat, sending it sailing into the bushes.
‘What are you doing, Mr Linton?’ he demanded against my mouth, his muscles mashing into me.
‘Removing the non-essentials!’ I panted. ‘Clothes! Off! Now!’
He froze.
‘Mr Linton…I don’t think…’
‘Admirable!’ Grasping the topmost of his buttons, I slipped it through its hole. ‘Not thinking is exactly the thing to do right now!’
‘Mr Linton! If we go on now…I don’t know whether I will be able to stop myself before…before…’
‘Don’t worry, I will! Is a knee to the groin all right as a stop signal, or is that too subtle for you?’
All the answer I got was another growl as he claimed my mouth again.
Oh, well, a girl always has to do the hard work herself, it seems. Throwing myself into the kiss, I let my hand slip down his chest, searching for the next button.
My fingers were halted in mid-movement by a metallic click. It t
ook me a moment to realise why that sound was so familiar. Then I remembered. I had heard a sound very much like it before - whenever Mr Ambrose cocked his gun. But…both of Mr Ambrose’s hands were very much occupied right now.
I froze.
‘Well, well,’ came a slightly accented voice from beside me. ‘What do we have here?’
Brazilian Standoff
My eyes had slid half-shut during the last few minutes of passion. Now, I opened them very slowly and carefully. The first thing I saw was Mr Ambrose, standing even stiller than me, like a statue hewn from bedrock. The second thing I saw was the gun pressed to his head.
‘Did you really think,’ came the voice of Lieutenant Louis de Alvarez, ‘that we would let a treasure like the one you are after slip through our fingers? Oh no. War is a costly business, my friend. Now, hands up, both of you! And don’t try any tricks!’
We both followed the order with reluctance. Cautiously peeking past my raised hands, I let my eyes wander from the pistol, along the arm that held it to the figure of Lieutenant de Alvarez. The little man didn’t look particularly impressive next to Mr Ambrose, but his gun was loaded and his arm perfectly steady. That more than made up for his diminutive size.
He smirked. ‘We had the chance to study that manuscript of yours a little before you managed to escape. What a marvellous thing you’ve discovered there, my friend! And do you know what?’
Mr Ambrose’s mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. ‘No. What?’
‘We came to the conclusion that we can make much better use of the gold than you greedy Englishmen. So, hand over the manuscript now, and you’ll have the thanks of the Piratini Republic.’
To judge by the look on Mr Ambrose’s face, he cared as much for the thanks of the Piratini Republic as for mashed snails in garlic sauce.
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then you’ll have a bullet in your brain. Or maybe, I should put one into the head of this lovely young lady here instead?’
‘Please do. Her head is worth much less than mine.’
I bridled at his words. I knew of course that downplaying my importance was the wisest course of action to take, that the less important Mr Ambrose made me out to be, the safer I would be. But he didn’t have to sound so bloody convincing, damn him!
‘Hm…’ The lieutenant was stroking his chin thoughtfully, his eyes wandering between me and Mr Ambrose. ‘We shall see. No matter what, we shall find a use for her.’ His arm still rock-steady, he gave a mocking little bow to me. ‘My apologies, by the way, for our inefficient torture methods, Senhora. If we had understood the reality behind the mask, I’m sure we would have found something more appropriate to a member of the fairer sex.’
His eyes drifted over me, leaving little doubt about the meaning of his words. From behind him, raucous laughter drifted towards me, and for the first time I realised that he was not alone. Shadows were shifting under the trees, moving steadily towards us. It looked like he had brought a whole squadron along with him.
‘Don’t worry, Lieutenant,’ I assured him. ‘I won’t hold your negligence against you. In fact, I wouldn’t mind you being negligent again.’
‘That is extremely unlikely, Senhora. But enough of these pleasantries.’ He pressed the gun more tightly against Mr Ambrose’s temple. ‘The manuscript! Now, if you please!’
