Donkeys!

Jeb scuffed a bit at the moss stained brick path just outside the bower shaded bench we were sitting on. The rosebush that climbed over the bower was an old style one that was heavy on the perfume. He turned hopeful eyes on my face, leaned a little bit closer to my ear and heavy whispered, "Are you going to give it up?" I didn't look directly at him but I smiled. He growled" Is tonight the night, then?""Babe" I heavy whispered in his ear, "You're the one that holds the key."There was a choking sound. I did look then and Jeb looked as if the trolls and gremlins had grabbed him by the neck and pulled his tie and collar as tight around it as a noose. His eyes looked desperate and he couldn't breathe.I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Breathe. Breathe like you practiced." I took his hand in both of mine. "Breathe, Jeb. Breathe like you've practiced." I undid his tie and opened the top several buttons of his shirt. We practiced slow breathing for a few minutes until the panic attack subsided.He didn't let go of my hand but he wouldn't look at me as he asked, "Do you regret raiding me?""No, I don't regret raiding you."It wasn't much of a raid. Not like the raiders of yore who landed on the seashore, marched to the inhabited dwellings, looted anything of value, and carried off any maiden they could catch. The Romans, when they were a grubbing, harum scarum lot had carried off the Sabine women just because the local girls back home thought they were hairy uncouth alpha barbarians and the home girls were looking for metro-sexuals before the term was coined.It wasn't much of a raid. If I'd raided anything it was probably Jeb's private plane which was on its way to London. Well, it wasn't on its way to London, it was sitting there on the side of the runway all fueled up and polished and its destination was London.London sounded like a nice change of scene from the home scene where I was suddenly more and more cast into the role of Cinderella. My sister-in-law, Minka, was as nasty as both of Cinderella's stepsisters combined and my mother thought that it was my heartfelt wish to join her in doting on my stupid brother.

"I was robbed." I said it and I meant it and Jeb, the idiot I was married to, was the one who robbed me of a honeymoon. The beautifully appointed his and hers suite on the south side of the castle was ours for life and had even had the little brass sign on it that read Honeymoon Suite. I was finishing my makeup while His Nuisanceness, Jeb, lolled around on my bed and laughed at me.He'd laughed when we'd been given these rooms (he'd needed the laugh then) and I had ruined years of tradition when I took the big Lord's Bedroom (the housekeeper had to be taken downstairs and plied with a restorative probably this side of the pond's equivalent of Long Island Iced Tea) (I heard it wasn't iced and there was very little tea involved), (according to the Boot Boy), and left the smaller Lady's Bedroom for Jeb.I might have been robbed of my honeymoon dreams but I wasn't going to be robbed of his presence. I'm old fashioned enough, or is that new fashioned enough to expect my husband to sleep in the same bed, at least until the honeymoon is over. The Housekeeper probably would have needed another bottle of restorative if she knew that the Boot Boy and I, and another ragtag pre-teen actor, who had a bit part in the historical drama taping in the castle and around and about, and had gone home, had added bed boards and a few fist sized rocks under the narrow little bed in the Lady's Bedroom making it hard as sleeping on concrete with the added pleasure of lumps, and not the pea-sized lumps the Princess found under her twenty mattresses but nice big fat lumps. If Jeb wanted to sleep in the other room he could. If he wanted his sleep to be restful he'd do what every man in his right mind who wanted a restful sleep would do and join me in the featherbed softness of the big bed in the Lord's Bedroom.I'll admit that his first couple of weeks of restful sleep weren't all that restful. Not in the way you're thinking of, mind you, and it was my honeymoon and something was expected, wasn't it? Not "Ouch, Ouch, damn it Duke!" and me left carrying a humongous tote around like I was a bag lady. "That tote doesn't match any of my dresses. It doesn't match this one either.""Babe, it's not long now."Oh, it would probably be as long as he could stretch it out. "Even the Duchess knows not to get in a car when the Duke is behind the wheel. And that car? Only an idiot would get into that car willingly." I checked my hair again in the mirror. "Dumb and Dumber," I pronounced. "I'm ready as I'll ever be." I slipped the strap of the tote up over my shoulder and watched it distort the neckline of my dress. I waited for Jeb to get himself up off the bed. It was a really nice featherbed and wanted to clutch the sleeper into dreamland."Ouch. Ouch. Damn it Duke!" He rolled himself into the position the physical therapist had taught him and then pushed himself to sitting and waited."Don't make such a production of just getting off the bed. The tail bone is a tiny little bone. Don't turn into an actor and make it seem like big trouble. Before this you didn't even know you had one to break.""Bruised. The doctor said bruised. After four weeks and I'll be good as new.""Well, this is week three and a half." I shook the tote at him, "And I'm still carrying this around like it belongs to me." I reached out and gave him a hand up to his feet so I didn't have to hear a replay of 'Ouch, Ouch, Damn it Duke!'Maybe I should mention that Jeb and the Duke of Whatever Wherever were now fast friends who had bonded over the Duchess's recent birthday present.Dumb and Dumber had to go pick it up."Why did you ever get in that death trap he called a car?""He couldn't go alone."

Ella: U;n sure your sister will be happy for you.Letty: She doesn't like it when she's not the first to accomplish things.