Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Murder at the Castle by Glory Lennon

Sir Raymond reached up to grab a lovely scarlet apple off of one of his beloved trees, when he heard the rustle of skirts behind him. He smiled, plucked the apple off the branch and placed it lovingly into the harvest bag attached to the ladder on which he stood before speaking.

“My love,” he said, reaching for another apple, “I thought you said you were going to have a word with the stable boy and then ride out on Svengali for the morning. Did you want company perhaps for some afternoon delight in yon deserted wood?”

“I did not have a word with the stable boy, I have no intention of riding out on any horse, least of all one named Svengali, but I’m always willing to have company, especially from so handsome a knight as yourself, Sir Raymond. Afternoon delight does sound lovely, although I don’t suppose Lady Wendy would approve.”

Startled, he turned and looked down. It was not his own lovely wife of many years. “Lady Glory! I do apologize,” he said, swiftly coming down to bow low in front of her, completely mortified.

“Milord,” Lady Glory said with a graceful curtsy, and for good measure, a girlish giggle. “No need to apologize, kind Sir.”