Have I mentioned before how marvellous Mr Ambrose's face looks? Those high cheekbones, piercing eyes, the chin you could crack rocks on...

Well, suffice it to say that, all in all, he made a pretty picture.

But you know what looked even more amazing?

Mr Rikkard Ambrose trying to eat my cooking.

"Well, everyone? How is it?" Grinning broadly, I peeked over the men's shoulders, placing one hand on Mr Ambrose's shoulder, the other on that of the pirate on my other side.

"Perfect! Just perfect!" Taking a last huge bite of the roasted rabbit he was devouring, the pirate gave me a thumbs up.

"Yes, quite an...intriguing taste." Taking a tiny bite of the sauce-covered meat, Mr Ambrose began to chew, his face perfectly impassive. "What, pray, are those herbs you used for seasoning?"

"Oh, just something I found here and there."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed."

"Would 'there' by any chance be at the bottom of a rotting compost heap?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Captain!"

"Ridiculous?"

"Of course!" I beamed. "You can find plenty of rotten herbs in the forest. You don't need to find a compost heap for that."

Mr Ambrose's right hand, along with the piece of meat it was holding, froze half-way to his mouth.

"Mr Linton?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I would be the first to admit that I am no expert in humour. So when I ask you this, I require you to answer clearly and concisely. Are you joking?"

"Naturally!"

"I see." Mr Ambrose's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and he put the piece of meat into his mouth.

"After all, I wouldn't want the...'special taste' to be diluted by the decomposition process."

Mr Ambrose stiffened. A muscle in his cheek twitched and, a moment later, twitched again. My oh my! Twice in a row? I was on a roll today!

"So, how is it?" I asked sweetly.

"Amazing!" one of the pirates exclaimed, waving a spoon in the air. "Ain't ever ate anything like it, Captain?"

"Yes, it is truly...special," Mr Ambrose agreed, his face murderously expressionless.

I glowed at the compliment. Wasn't it amazing to have such a kind and polite husband?

"I'm thrilled to hear that!" I exclaimed, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "And since we're on the subject of my cooking...I'm wondering whether I could go with you on your next raid?" Letting go, I squeezed in between him and the closest pirate and gave him a gentle smile. "If not, I can only stay here and continue cooking wonderful meals for your return. I don't mind."

I had to give him credit. He didn't even twitch. "That won't be necessary, Mr Linton. I shall permit you to accompany us next time."

I beamed. "Spiffing! Simply spiffing!"

"Indeed." Fixing me with an arctic gaze, Mr Ambrose fastened his hand on my shoulder with an iron grip, keeping me from escaping. "Now..." He held out his plate to me. "Why don't you share some of this delicious food with me?"

Blast!

Well, at least things couldn't get worse, could they?

***

"Shit, shit, shit! It can't be! It just can't!" Low curses could be heard as, at the back of the kitchen tent, a piece of tent cloth was slowly lifted. A moment later, the tiny form of Liam slipped inside and sidled through the shadows towards a chest in the corner, where the old cook had kept his recipes.

"If he's got evidence anywhere, it's got to be in there. It's got to be!"

Throwing the lid up, he dived headfirst into the chest. Pots, pans and bits of paper flew in all directions. When he had finally gone through everything and had double-checked while putting all of it back into place, the little fellow's shoulders finally sagged in relief.

"I knew it! I knew it! He doesn't have any evidence. He can't know. He can't—"

"Croak!" Polly the parrot announced. "Girl dressing up in men's clothes! Squawk! Dressing up in men's clothes!"

Liam's head whipped around to stare at the bird, his face white as a sheet.

The parrot cocked its head and gave him an innocent look. "Squawk? Polly wants a cookie!"

With a rather high-pitched squeal, Liam whirled around and dashed out the tent.

***

"Are you sure about this?"

We were standing on a rocky ledge, hidden behind a clump of wind-blown bushes. It was only an hour before our departure. Mr Ambrose had sneaked off with me to share a last few stolen moments before we embarked on our latest trip. And to convince me not to go, apparently.

I met his eyes. "Very sure."

"You know it will be dangerous!"

"More dangerous than tasting my cooking again?"

He considered this for a moment.

"A fair point. But..."

"But?"

His eyes bored into mine for a long moment—then they swept down to my belly. And probably not because he was thinking about my amazing cooking again. The emotion in his cold, icy eyes...it tugged at my heart. And he knew it, the son of a bachelor!

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't give me that look, Mister! You found a safe way for me to take part in a raid the first time, didn't you? I'd bet a week's worth of wages that you can do it again!"

"I do not indulge in losing bets, Mr Linton."

"Ha! So you could do it!"

His silence was answer enough.

Taking a step forward, I gently poked his chest with my finger. "So...what is your plan?"

"What makes you so sure I already have a plan?"

I gave him a look. "I've been married to you for months now."

"Adequate point."

"So...your plan?"

"Simple, really." Mr Ambrose's eyes glittered coldly in a way that told me, no matter how simple the plan, it would be very effective. "You see...the first ship we plundered was attacked by town guards, not us. They never even saw a single pirate. And the next two vessels we attacked both went down, the crew never to be seen again."

"Which means...?"

The only answer I got was silence. And more silence. And...

And suddenly it clicked.

"Oh my God!" My eyes widened. "They have no clue, do they?"

He cocked his head. "Mr Linton?"

"Don't you play innocent with me, Mr Rikkard Ambrose! Your competitors! They have no clue their pet pirates have turned on them, haven't they?"

"Indeed. So..." Mr Ambrose let his voice trail off. There was never any such thing as a smile on Mr Rikkard Ambrose's face, but if I didn't know better, I would have said there was just the hint of one sparkling in his icy eyes.

"So?" I prompted.

He met my eyes with his own deep, dark, sea-coloured orbs. "So why don't we pay them a visit?"

Grabbing hold of the back of my neck, he bent down to me in the blink of an eye and pressed a fast, ferocious kiss onto my lips. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me until my toes curled and my limbs went limp. This kiss...it was unlike any I had felt before. He didn't take my mouth. He didn't claim my mouth. He plundered my mouth, without hesitation or inhibition.

Oh my...I should have made him become a pirate much earlier!

When Captain Rockface finally decided to break the kiss and step away, he left me breathless and almost unable to move. But then...I wouldn't need to move for the foreseeable future, wouldn't I? We would be travelling by ship.

Unable to resist, I brushed my lips against his. "Shall we?"

His eyes bored deep into mine once more, promising death to his enemies and delirious pleasure to his ship's cook.

"We shall."

***

"Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy to starboard!"

The crew on the merchant ship froze in mid-motion. From inside the superstructure came a grumbling sound and, moments later, the door to the captain's cabin flew open, revealing a pudgy man with a bald head as shiny as a cue ball.

"What the hell is all the noise about?" the captain growled. "I was just catching a good nap! Can't a man get five minutes of rest around here?"

"But, Captain, look! There!" One of the sailors rushed to the railing, pointing to the west. There, a ship was visible at the horizon, slowly growing larger. "It's coming straight towards us!"

"Huh? How can that be?" Frowning, he strode over to the sailor. "There's no trade route that way. Just a maze of tiny islands. What..."

Shielding his eyes against the sunlight, he tried to make out the distant ship more clearly—and failed.

"Oy!" Glancing up, he shouted to the man in the crow's nest. "Do your bloody job! Tell me what kind of flag that thing is flying!"

"Aye aye, Sir! Right away, Sir!"

A moment or two passed, and then...

"S-sir! Sir, we....!"

"What?"

"We've gotta turn around! Right now! Turn the ship around and return to port!"

The captain scowled. "Who the hell do you think you are to give me orders?"

"B-but Sir—"

"Shut your trap!"

"Sir, they're pirates!"

The captain froze. All colour drained from the faces of the sailors around him. One of them, who was scrubbing the deck, slipped on a wet patch and slammed butt-first onto the planks.

"P-pirates?" The first mate stammered. He whirled to his captain. "We've got to go! We—"

"Ha! Ha! Hahahaha...!"

"Err...Captain?"

"...mwahahaha!"

"Captain!"

"Haha! Sorry, that was just so funny!" Chuckling one last time, the captain wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Don't worry. Let the ship approach."

The first mate stared at him as if he had grown a second head. One without a brain in it. "S-sorry, Captain?" He took a cautious step away from his captain. "I think I misheard."

"No, no, you heard right. Let them approach." The captain waved his other man's concerns away. "They probably just want to chat or something."

"Chat? Pirates?"

If, before, his second-in-command had been staring at him as if he were crazy, now the younger man was slowly backing away, as if the captain were a bomb about to go off.

"Ha! Yes, I suppose that would seem odd to you, seeing as you and the fellow up in the crow's nest are new to the crew. Well..." The captain tapped his nose, signalling his superior intellect and knowledge. "You'll see soon enough. You'll see."

"Err...Captain? Are you quite well?"

"Oh, I most definitely am. On our way here, we passed a ship from that trading company belonging to that rich bastard, Ambrose, didn't we?"

"I believe we did, Captain."

"Then I suspect those 'pirates' will be heading straight towards us. And when they do, we will have a nice little talk with them, share some ale, and tell them all about that ship we spotted, are we clear?"

The first mate hesitated.

"I asked, are we clear?"

"A-aye aye, Sir!"

The crew broke into a hectic cacophony of activity, and by the time the pirate ship approached, the captain was waiting by the railing with a broad smile on his face and an expensive bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand.

Sails rustling, wood creaking, the pirate ship came up alongside the merchant vessel. At the front of the rough crowd gathered on the deck of the vessel, the captain spotted a tall, dark-haired man with cold eyes, a hard face, and a sabre hanging at his waist. Probably his counterpart, the captain concluded. He should be on his best behaviour.

"Greetings, Captain!" Beaming, the big, bald man extended the whiskey bottle. "On behalf of my employer, I welcome you to our ship."

"Why, thank you." Graciously, the other man inclined his head. What a polite fellow! Yes, the two of them would get along excellently. "We shall graciously accept your hospitality."

"Would you like to join me in my cabin? You could tell me about your plan for your next raid."

"That sounds like an excellent idea." Cocking his head, the man with the stony face stepped forward. Only then did the captain notice the cold glitter in the man's eyes, and the man's hand moving towards the hilt of his sabre. Behind him, his crew mimicked the gesture. "Let me tell you all about our latest target..."

-----------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

What do you think of Mr Ambrose's strategy? Appropriately ruthless and money-grabbing? ;)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob