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‘Mmmmmh!’
Leisurely, his hands slipped into the second pouch. ‘Not there either. Pity.’
‘Mmmph! Mp! Pfmmm Mmp!’
‘Did you keep the manuscript in there, Mr Linton? Or maybe you kept it somewhere a little more private.’
My eyes went wide.
‘Wtt? Dnn’t drr!’
‘Let’s see…’
‘Dn’t y drr! Dn’t y drrr! M gna kllya-mmmhhhh…!’
‘Hm. No, nothing of interest there, either.’
I really, really, really was going to kill him.
He sighed. ‘Well, it wouldn’t have made sense for them to leave it here with you, anyway. The colonel is sure to have taken it with him to his own tent.’
‘Ntt nm!’
‘I’m going to go get it.’
‘Wwtt?’
‘It will only take a second. Don’t move.’
Don’t move? Was he serious?
Of course he was. He was Rikkard Ambrose.
‘Dn’t gg! Nt mm! Nnnmpf!’
‘Be quiet! They might hear you.’
And with that encouraging remark, my would-be saviour vanished into the darkness. I mentally started listing ways in which I could maim, torture and kill him just as soon as I got my hands free.
*~*~**~*~*
The wait was not a pleasant one. It hadn’t been before, of course - but back then, the worst thing I could expect was being sadistically tortured for information. Now, I had actually to deal with the possibility of being rescued. By a man. And not by any man, either - by Mr Rikkard Ambrose!
Please, God, why don’t you kill me now?
But God was apparently busy tonight. I remained alive, and very much tied to the pole. A hundred horrific scenes played out in my head: Mr Ambrose cutting
my bonds; Mr Ambrose clutching me, the helpless little woman, fervently to his strong, masculine chest; Mr Ambrose whispering ‘There, there! You’re safe now’ into my hair. Ugh! I shuddered. No, I would definitely draw the line there! I might condescend to letting my bonds be cut, but having to be comforted like some dimwitted damsel? No, no, and no again! I would not let myself be rescued in an unfeministic manner!
I had just come to that conclusion when the tent flap was pulled aside, and Mr Ambrose slid inside. I had to admit, now it was proving advantageous that he had kept his tailcoat and trousers during our jungle journey. All in black, he was hardly more than a shadow in the night.
A shadow who had come to rescue me. Yuck!
Oh, well, I was going to be firm. As soon as he removed the gag, I was going to explain to him that he wasn’t actually rescuing me, but only assisting me in rescuing myself. Furthermore, I would demand that he expunge this unfortunate incident from his memory and that he never ever mention the word ‘pole’ in my presence.
‘Still here, are you?’ He knelt in front of me.
‘Wll cnt g frr! Gtnn wtht!’
