forbade permanent settlement by Russian citizens.”
“Bummer,” Christina said, concealing a yawn behind her palm.
“It was, really, because a man would bring his family over, start trading in fur or logging or what-have-you, and then, when he started to make headway against the wilderness, when his family was settled, when they had made a life for themselves, they would have to pick up and leave.”
“So David’s great-great-grandpa decided that sucked the root?”
“Yes. In fact, it was as close to a bloodless coup as possible. Russia had offered Alaska for sale to America—”
“Oh, wait, I know this part—America was hip-deep in the Civil War, and the last thing they wanted was to cough up a bunch of dough for a new state. They were having enough trouble controlling the states they already had.”
“Quite right. And Alaska hadn’t worked out for Mother Russia as they had expected. The primary goal of taking Alaska was to feed Russia. But farming was difficult—crops didn’t take, or were devoured by mice and squirrels, or the Russians weren’t terribly enthusiastic farmers. Meanwhile, the natives, while befriending the Russians actually living and working the land, resented the mother country—”
“Understandably. They were here first.”
“Well, yes. Something the royal family has kept in mind—”
“Is that why all the native Alaskans—the true natives—get all that money from the government?”
“Yes. And they are allowed to continue the lifestyle of their forebears for as long as they wish. Millions of acres have been set aside for their use. But we’re getting off topic.”
“Typical white-guy attitude,” Christina commented.
“At any rate,” Edmund continued, annoyed, “when Kaarl Baranov rallied the troops, so to speak, and prepared to break away from Russia, Russia let them go with surprising ease.”
“No bloodshed?”
“Minimal bloodshed. But it was obvious Mother Russia’s heart wasn’t in it, and we—Alaska—quickly won. And rather than setting up a Tsar and Tsarina of Alaska, they decided to cut ties still further, and became King Kaarl and Queen Kathryn.”
“My,” Christina said. “What a long story.”
“My lady, we’ve only been talking—”
“We’ve?”
“—for five minutes.”
“Well, I’ve pretty much got the picture. And it sure explains a lot.”
“Explains…?”
“About the royal family. I mean, you have to admit, they’re an independent bunch.”
Edmund cracked a smile. “Yes. I have to admit that.”
P rince David, intent on his late-morning observations of the residents of Allen Hall, never saw the arm that snaked around the doorway, effectively clotheslining him. In a flash he was on his back, and being dragged into a small, dark sitting room. He got a whiff of wildflowers and decided not to resist.
“The thing is,” his fiancée told him, straddling his chest, “I appreciate you buying the cow and all, but I think you ought to get some milk for free.”
“Are you feeling all right?” he gasped. One minute he’d been wandering the halls, minding his own business, the next—attacked!
“Oh, sure, it’s just—I’d be crazy to plan on spending—what?—fifty, sixty years with you? Without…you know. Sampling the merchandise.”
“If I understand you,” he said carefully, “and I’m not at all sure I do, you’re proposing we—may I have my shorts back, please?”
“In a minute,” she said, and then she was nimbly unbuttoning his shirt and spreading it open.
“This is really too—” and then he forget where he was going with this as her soft, hot mouth touched his mouth, his throat, his nipples, and now she was actually licking his nipples, and he brought a hand up and fisted it in her hair, and she nipped lightly, which made him yelp, and then he was tugging at her shirt, her shorts, they were writhing together in the dark, his hands were everywhere, relishing the touch of her smooth, warm
“Bummer,” Christina said, concealing a yawn behind her palm.
“It was, really, because a man would bring his family over, start trading in fur or logging or what-have-you, and then, when he started to make headway against the wilderness, when his family was settled, when they had made a life for themselves, they would have to pick up and leave.”
“So David’s great-great-grandpa decided that sucked the root?”
“Yes. In fact, it was as close to a bloodless coup as possible. Russia had offered Alaska for sale to America—”
“Oh, wait, I know this part—America was hip-deep in the Civil War, and the last thing they wanted was to cough up a bunch of dough for a new state. They were having enough trouble controlling the states they already had.”
“Quite right. And Alaska hadn’t worked out for Mother Russia as they had expected. The primary goal of taking Alaska was to feed Russia. But farming was difficult—crops didn’t take, or were devoured by mice and squirrels, or the Russians weren’t terribly enthusiastic farmers. Meanwhile, the natives, while befriending the Russians actually living and working the land, resented the mother country—”
“Understandably. They were here first.”
“Well, yes. Something the royal family has kept in mind—”
“Is that why all the native Alaskans—the true natives—get all that money from the government?”
“Yes. And they are allowed to continue the lifestyle of their forebears for as long as they wish. Millions of acres have been set aside for their use. But we’re getting off topic.”
“Typical white-guy attitude,” Christina commented.
“At any rate,” Edmund continued, annoyed, “when Kaarl Baranov rallied the troops, so to speak, and prepared to break away from Russia, Russia let them go with surprising ease.”
“No bloodshed?”
“Minimal bloodshed. But it was obvious Mother Russia’s heart wasn’t in it, and we—Alaska—quickly won. And rather than setting up a Tsar and Tsarina of Alaska, they decided to cut ties still further, and became King Kaarl and Queen Kathryn.”
“My,” Christina said. “What a long story.”
“My lady, we’ve only been talking—”
“We’ve?”
“—for five minutes.”
“Well, I’ve pretty much got the picture. And it sure explains a lot.”
“Explains…?”
“About the royal family. I mean, you have to admit, they’re an independent bunch.”
Edmund cracked a smile. “Yes. I have to admit that.”
P rince David, intent on his late-morning observations of the residents of Allen Hall, never saw the arm that snaked around the doorway, effectively clotheslining him. In a flash he was on his back, and being dragged into a small, dark sitting room. He got a whiff of wildflowers and decided not to resist.
“The thing is,” his fiancée told him, straddling his chest, “I appreciate you buying the cow and all, but I think you ought to get some milk for free.”
“Are you feeling all right?” he gasped. One minute he’d been wandering the halls, minding his own business, the next—attacked!
“Oh, sure, it’s just—I’d be crazy to plan on spending—what?—fifty, sixty years with you? Without…you know. Sampling the merchandise.”
“If I understand you,” he said carefully, “and I’m not at all sure I do, you’re proposing we—may I have my shorts back, please?”
“In a minute,” she said, and then she was nimbly unbuttoning his shirt and spreading it open.
“This is really too—” and then he forget where he was going with this as her soft, hot mouth touched his mouth, his throat, his nipples, and now she was actually licking his nipples, and he brought a hand up and fisted it in her hair, and she nipped lightly, which made him yelp, and then he was tugging at her shirt, her shorts, they were writhing together in the dark, his hands were everywhere, relishing the touch of her smooth, warm
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