replied, and went to work, apparently looking for garment labels sewn onto my panda robe. “I found it! Her name is written in a strange tongue. It says her name is Hecho En Mexico.”
“Hecho En Mexico? That is strange, indeed! That cannot be her name.”
“There’s more, Sire. Machine wash warm, gentle cycle, no bleach, tumble dry.”
“Stop! It is a magic spell! Do not utter another word of it, lest we all be cursed!” Lord Tossinoff shouted.
The rakish duke stared at me, lustfully. “She may very well be a sorceress. Oh, but what a spell she has already cast upon my heart! And my cock! Tell me, wench, how are you called?”
I had to think for a minute. I needed a name that would sound more English. If I remembered history correctly, the Tudor monarchs were hell-bent on waging war in Ireland. I couldn’t tell them my name was O’Leary, so I used the first English sounding name to come to mind. “I am Gertie, of Worchestershirerer-er. I am a lady and you, sir, are a horse’s ass.”
“Ha! I will greatly enjoy having both you and the Maiden Bangladesh in my bed tonight!” the Duke roared.
Lord Tossinoff’s eyes squinted. “Did you say Worchestershirerer-er?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“That is quite a mouthful,” Lord Tossinoff replied.
The duke slapped Tossinoff’s back. “That is what she sayeth!”
I couldn’t help myself. I groaned, loudly. “Even in my dreams—these men!”
The squire took me away from the dogs and led me through a small door on the side of the main house. It turned out to be the servants’ entrance. The first room was busy. Both men and women were preparing vegetables and meats while cooks tended to numerous steaming kettles. Everyone made way for the squire, avoiding eye contact with me. Obviously, this was a routine occurrence. I wondered if they were preparing for a feast and I was simply another item for the menu.
“Lady, my apologies.” The squire untied my hands and opened the door to another room. “You will stay here with the Maiden Bangladesh. Someone will be along to help you prepare for tonight’s festivities.”
“Festivities?” I asked as he led me in, but he didn’t answer. The door latched shut and I heard the lock set.
Several flickering candles provided enough light for me take stock of my cell. Only, it wasn’t the prison cell I expected. It was a richly furnished room. “Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out. “Maiden Bangladesh? Are you here? Or don’t you speak English? I don’t know the language of Bangladesh.”
“Gertie?” a familiar female voice answered. “Gertie O’Leary? Thank God!”
Chapter 10
Meet Jessica
“ J essica? What in the name of Mary are you doing in my dream? I don’t mind. Really, you’re more than welcome to stay.” It was Jessica, all right. From her loose black curls to her creamy white complexion and cute round features, I knew it.
Jessica blinked, as if she were trying to clear the vision of her big brown eyes. “Huh?”
Now, I should take a few minutes to explain who Jessica is. She’s Randy’s cousin. We met recently at my friend Leigh’s wedding and from the minute I met her, I knew we’d someday become the best of friends.
Not only were we both in our early twenties, she shared my love of animals. We had a conversation that let me know she was sweet and wet behind the ears, much the way people describe me. She made many references to her love for romance novels, and she often viewed the world through the eyes of her favorite authors.
In that respect, she was just like my first and bestest friend, Leigh.
Allow me to delve into the recent past as I recall one of the first conversations we had as a group with Jessica.
It was during that conversation that I learned she was also much like me. It was the morning after Leigh and Hunter’s wedding. Randy, Kelly, Lindsey, Ezzy, and I were having brunch at the plantation. Jessica came down for the wedding, not as a guest but as one of
“Hecho En Mexico? That is strange, indeed! That cannot be her name.”
“There’s more, Sire. Machine wash warm, gentle cycle, no bleach, tumble dry.”
“Stop! It is a magic spell! Do not utter another word of it, lest we all be cursed!” Lord Tossinoff shouted.
The rakish duke stared at me, lustfully. “She may very well be a sorceress. Oh, but what a spell she has already cast upon my heart! And my cock! Tell me, wench, how are you called?”
I had to think for a minute. I needed a name that would sound more English. If I remembered history correctly, the Tudor monarchs were hell-bent on waging war in Ireland. I couldn’t tell them my name was O’Leary, so I used the first English sounding name to come to mind. “I am Gertie, of Worchestershirerer-er. I am a lady and you, sir, are a horse’s ass.”
“Ha! I will greatly enjoy having both you and the Maiden Bangladesh in my bed tonight!” the Duke roared.
Lord Tossinoff’s eyes squinted. “Did you say Worchestershirerer-er?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“That is quite a mouthful,” Lord Tossinoff replied.
The duke slapped Tossinoff’s back. “That is what she sayeth!”
I couldn’t help myself. I groaned, loudly. “Even in my dreams—these men!”
The squire took me away from the dogs and led me through a small door on the side of the main house. It turned out to be the servants’ entrance. The first room was busy. Both men and women were preparing vegetables and meats while cooks tended to numerous steaming kettles. Everyone made way for the squire, avoiding eye contact with me. Obviously, this was a routine occurrence. I wondered if they were preparing for a feast and I was simply another item for the menu.
“Lady, my apologies.” The squire untied my hands and opened the door to another room. “You will stay here with the Maiden Bangladesh. Someone will be along to help you prepare for tonight’s festivities.”
“Festivities?” I asked as he led me in, but he didn’t answer. The door latched shut and I heard the lock set.
Several flickering candles provided enough light for me take stock of my cell. Only, it wasn’t the prison cell I expected. It was a richly furnished room. “Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out. “Maiden Bangladesh? Are you here? Or don’t you speak English? I don’t know the language of Bangladesh.”
“Gertie?” a familiar female voice answered. “Gertie O’Leary? Thank God!”
Chapter 10
Meet Jessica
“ J essica? What in the name of Mary are you doing in my dream? I don’t mind. Really, you’re more than welcome to stay.” It was Jessica, all right. From her loose black curls to her creamy white complexion and cute round features, I knew it.
Jessica blinked, as if she were trying to clear the vision of her big brown eyes. “Huh?”
Now, I should take a few minutes to explain who Jessica is. She’s Randy’s cousin. We met recently at my friend Leigh’s wedding and from the minute I met her, I knew we’d someday become the best of friends.
Not only were we both in our early twenties, she shared my love of animals. We had a conversation that let me know she was sweet and wet behind the ears, much the way people describe me. She made many references to her love for romance novels, and she often viewed the world through the eyes of her favorite authors.
In that respect, she was just like my first and bestest friend, Leigh.
Allow me to delve into the recent past as I recall one of the first conversations we had as a group with Jessica.
It was during that conversation that I learned she was also much like me. It was the morning after Leigh and Hunter’s wedding. Randy, Kelly, Lindsey, Ezzy, and I were having brunch at the plantation. Jessica came down for the wedding, not as a guest but as one of
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