Read Online A Midsummer's Day by Heather Montford - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Heather Montford
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and the most basest lust. Methinks every man within the festival hath shared in thy wares. Do I speak me incorrectly?”
Johnny had been the only one to have shared her wares today. But if course he didn’t count towards these charges. But one man did. He sat across the pond from her, her poor forgotten blond tourist from the tomato throw. His missing friends from the leather shop had finally made their appearance.
Sammie threw her blond a wink. It wasn’t his fault that she was in the chair today. His face turned tomato red. Apparently he liked her dunking dress, with its low cut bodice, a lot better than her Court gown.
“By what crime do I find me in this most dreadful chair?” she asked the Lord High Sheriff innocently. “Be it so wrong for a gentle woman to seek her naught but harmless attention?”
Johnny sighed. “What choice have I?” he asked with a shrug of the shoulders. “What say ye, jury? Shalt ye send mine own betrothed to the depths of this briny deep?”
The audience didn’t even wait for their Lord High Sheriff to hit “thrice” before condemning her to the water.
The world fell away. She screamed. At the very last second she clamped her mouth shut.
If heaven existed anywhere on Earth, it had to be in the water. It was a nurse with nimble fingers, cooling her burning skin, easing the tightness of her lungs.
The chair moved upwards before it could come to the very bottom of its underwater journey. “Think thee fortunate I find me in a good humour, my Lady, that I seekest not to dunke thee for long,” the Lord High Sheriff Johnny said. It was a cleverly concocted explanation as to why she was kept under for so little time. In truth, the dunkers were under the strictest orders that Sammie could be left below for no longer than thirty seconds at a time.
Asthma did come with a benefit or two.
Sammie shook the hair from her eyes. She smiled proudly at her betrothed. “My Lord High Sheriff,” she said sweetly. “My heart be thou’s to command. ‘Tis only a game to play at. ‘Tis refreshing to gaze upon a most comely man now and again.” She emphasized comely.
It was the hardest line she had all day.
Nobody in existence was as handsome… Nobody was as spectacularly gorgeous as her Johnny.
She was ready for the depths before the audience could condemn her for a second time. It was easier to enjoy the powers of the water with full lungs. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She would enjoy every extra second the dunkers left her below.
“My Lord High Sheriff,” she said with an edge when they brought her back up. “Methinks if thy manhood be as big as thy most mightily swollen head, thou wouldst not find me to stray.”
The audience oohed and ahhed. Johnny gave the dunkers their signal to send Sammie below without even going to the jury.
<>
She flailed in the water. Where were the armrests? She needed to find the armrests before she slid off the chair.
The force threw her back into the chair. What little air she had left was knocked from her.
She forced her eyes open. The murky water rippled. Shockwave... A shockwave ripped through the pond.
What happened? Did something explode?
She looked up. There were no flames. No fire. No debris falling into the water.
She didn’t move. The dunkers weren’t bringing her back to the surface. She was never left below this long. This was longer than the monk was left down for his longest time.
Her lungs burned. There was no air left to hold. None to breathe in.
Should she swim for the surface? She wasn’t the best swimmer, even in a bikini. But to try to swim up in a heavy, soaking, full length gown… If she slipped off of the chair, if she failed to go up… She’d never breathe again.
Still, it was only three feet. Three feet to the surface.
She was moving. Up. Not down. The chair moved up through the
Johnny had been the only one to have shared her wares today. But if course he didn’t count towards these charges. But one man did. He sat across the pond from her, her poor forgotten blond tourist from the tomato throw. His missing friends from the leather shop had finally made their appearance.
Sammie threw her blond a wink. It wasn’t his fault that she was in the chair today. His face turned tomato red. Apparently he liked her dunking dress, with its low cut bodice, a lot better than her Court gown.
“By what crime do I find me in this most dreadful chair?” she asked the Lord High Sheriff innocently. “Be it so wrong for a gentle woman to seek her naught but harmless attention?”
Johnny sighed. “What choice have I?” he asked with a shrug of the shoulders. “What say ye, jury? Shalt ye send mine own betrothed to the depths of this briny deep?”
The audience didn’t even wait for their Lord High Sheriff to hit “thrice” before condemning her to the water.
The world fell away. She screamed. At the very last second she clamped her mouth shut.
If heaven existed anywhere on Earth, it had to be in the water. It was a nurse with nimble fingers, cooling her burning skin, easing the tightness of her lungs.
The chair moved upwards before it could come to the very bottom of its underwater journey. “Think thee fortunate I find me in a good humour, my Lady, that I seekest not to dunke thee for long,” the Lord High Sheriff Johnny said. It was a cleverly concocted explanation as to why she was kept under for so little time. In truth, the dunkers were under the strictest orders that Sammie could be left below for no longer than thirty seconds at a time.
Asthma did come with a benefit or two.
Sammie shook the hair from her eyes. She smiled proudly at her betrothed. “My Lord High Sheriff,” she said sweetly. “My heart be thou’s to command. ‘Tis only a game to play at. ‘Tis refreshing to gaze upon a most comely man now and again.” She emphasized comely.
It was the hardest line she had all day.
Nobody in existence was as handsome… Nobody was as spectacularly gorgeous as her Johnny.
She was ready for the depths before the audience could condemn her for a second time. It was easier to enjoy the powers of the water with full lungs. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She would enjoy every extra second the dunkers left her below.
“My Lord High Sheriff,” she said with an edge when they brought her back up. “Methinks if thy manhood be as big as thy most mightily swollen head, thou wouldst not find me to stray.”
The audience oohed and ahhed. Johnny gave the dunkers their signal to send Sammie below without even going to the jury.
<>
She flailed in the water. Where were the armrests? She needed to find the armrests before she slid off the chair.
The force threw her back into the chair. What little air she had left was knocked from her.
She forced her eyes open. The murky water rippled. Shockwave... A shockwave ripped through the pond.
What happened? Did something explode?
She looked up. There were no flames. No fire. No debris falling into the water.
She didn’t move. The dunkers weren’t bringing her back to the surface. She was never left below this long. This was longer than the monk was left down for his longest time.
Her lungs burned. There was no air left to hold. None to breathe in.
Should she swim for the surface? She wasn’t the best swimmer, even in a bikini. But to try to swim up in a heavy, soaking, full length gown… If she slipped off of the chair, if she failed to go up… She’d never breathe again.
Still, it was only three feet. Three feet to the surface.
She was moving. Up. Not down. The chair moved up through the
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