Read Online Back to the Fuchsia by Melanie James - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melanie James
Tags: General Fiction
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Jessica. This is my friend, Ezzy. I’m sure you remember her from the wedding. She must have figured out that we were missing and came for us.”
My eyes darted from one assistant to the next, a cautious reflex of mine.
“Obviously, Ezzy’s waiting until these other women to leave so she can tell us her plan.”
“Stop whispering! It’s rude,” Ezzy barked. “And don’t wink at me again.”
Of course, I winked again. She was really playing the part well. At least, that’s what I thought until she completely lost it.
“That’s enough! I don’t know what the duke thought by bringing you to court, either of you little tarts.”
Jessica immediately took up my defense. We stood shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t get your tits in a wringer, witch. I don’t know what you’re up to, but no stupid rescue plan requires you to be so mean to Gertie.”
“Rescue plan? You think I’m here to rescue you? You really are a lunatic. Ha. This is your lucky day. You’ve been selected as a mistress for the king. And you, Lady Worchestawhatever have been selected by the duke to visit his bed-chamber tonight, or to spend the night with the king’s guest of honor.”
“Would you listen to yourself? I know it’s you, Ezzy. You don’t even talk the same way the people here do. You don’t sound like you’re part of a Shakespeare play. You sound like you always have, as you should, of course. You’re from our time. How did you manage to go back to this place?”
Ezzy looked at me like a pineapple had just sprouted from my forehead. She turned to address the assistants. “Ladies, leave us.” The young women swiftly walked out of the room.
“I—I don’t know why. Tell me. What did you mean when you said I’m from your time? It’s as if you were saying you came from another time. What is it, the future?”
“Ding, ding, ding!” Jessica hopped up and down. “We have a new Jeopardy champion!”
“Ezzy, you seriously don’t know, do you? How long have you lived here?”
“My earliest memory is from six years ago. The duke picked me up from the wheat field. Apparently, I’d taken a very serious knock to the head. I didn’t even know my own name. The duke took me in and cared for me. So that’s really my name? Ezzy? Strange name.”
“Well, that’s what your friends call you. Your full name is Esmeralda Warren. You were born in 1629 at your parents’ farm in Salem Massachusetts. It gets even stranger than just your name, Ezzy. Somehow, you managed to survive the Salem witch trials—you’ve never explained that to me or anyone, that I know of.”
“Witch trials? I’ve never heard anyone mention that place. Why would I be concerned with surviving witch trials?” Ezzy suddenly backed away from me. “Witchcraft! Is that what this is? I’m under your spell! Release me and leave me alone. I promise not to accuse you.”
“Yeah. You’re a witch, witch,” Jessica interrupted.
“Ezzy, you’re not under my spell, technically speaking, it’s the Witches Union’s spell. This is all because that book of spells you loaned to me from the Union office. I needed a spell for magic paint.”
“A witch? Me? You two are both witches as well?”
“Gertie’s a witch. I’m a cryptozoologist. Not like certified or anything, but I produce my own podcast on cryptids, you know, Bigfoot, Loch Ness Monster, and all that. It’s called Beatin’ the Beast . I’m also a waitress at Waffle Hovel. I used to be a Goth, but now I’ve gradually transitioned out of that. Not sure why. Probably because I didn’t really have a grasp on what I was supposed to do. It’s not like they have any structure or a user’s manual, for crying out loud. This is what Randy said to me, he said…”
Her voice changed to a mocking rendition of Randy. “‘Jessica, you’re a very unfortunate soul. You see, homeschooling never prepared you for goth, gangster, nerd, geek, stoner, jock, or any pubescent social group that encourages you
My eyes darted from one assistant to the next, a cautious reflex of mine.
“Obviously, Ezzy’s waiting until these other women to leave so she can tell us her plan.”
“Stop whispering! It’s rude,” Ezzy barked. “And don’t wink at me again.”
Of course, I winked again. She was really playing the part well. At least, that’s what I thought until she completely lost it.
“That’s enough! I don’t know what the duke thought by bringing you to court, either of you little tarts.”
Jessica immediately took up my defense. We stood shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t get your tits in a wringer, witch. I don’t know what you’re up to, but no stupid rescue plan requires you to be so mean to Gertie.”
“Rescue plan? You think I’m here to rescue you? You really are a lunatic. Ha. This is your lucky day. You’ve been selected as a mistress for the king. And you, Lady Worchestawhatever have been selected by the duke to visit his bed-chamber tonight, or to spend the night with the king’s guest of honor.”
“Would you listen to yourself? I know it’s you, Ezzy. You don’t even talk the same way the people here do. You don’t sound like you’re part of a Shakespeare play. You sound like you always have, as you should, of course. You’re from our time. How did you manage to go back to this place?”
Ezzy looked at me like a pineapple had just sprouted from my forehead. She turned to address the assistants. “Ladies, leave us.” The young women swiftly walked out of the room.
“I—I don’t know why. Tell me. What did you mean when you said I’m from your time? It’s as if you were saying you came from another time. What is it, the future?”
“Ding, ding, ding!” Jessica hopped up and down. “We have a new Jeopardy champion!”
“Ezzy, you seriously don’t know, do you? How long have you lived here?”
“My earliest memory is from six years ago. The duke picked me up from the wheat field. Apparently, I’d taken a very serious knock to the head. I didn’t even know my own name. The duke took me in and cared for me. So that’s really my name? Ezzy? Strange name.”
“Well, that’s what your friends call you. Your full name is Esmeralda Warren. You were born in 1629 at your parents’ farm in Salem Massachusetts. It gets even stranger than just your name, Ezzy. Somehow, you managed to survive the Salem witch trials—you’ve never explained that to me or anyone, that I know of.”
“Witch trials? I’ve never heard anyone mention that place. Why would I be concerned with surviving witch trials?” Ezzy suddenly backed away from me. “Witchcraft! Is that what this is? I’m under your spell! Release me and leave me alone. I promise not to accuse you.”
“Yeah. You’re a witch, witch,” Jessica interrupted.
“Ezzy, you’re not under my spell, technically speaking, it’s the Witches Union’s spell. This is all because that book of spells you loaned to me from the Union office. I needed a spell for magic paint.”
“A witch? Me? You two are both witches as well?”
“Gertie’s a witch. I’m a cryptozoologist. Not like certified or anything, but I produce my own podcast on cryptids, you know, Bigfoot, Loch Ness Monster, and all that. It’s called Beatin’ the Beast . I’m also a waitress at Waffle Hovel. I used to be a Goth, but now I’ve gradually transitioned out of that. Not sure why. Probably because I didn’t really have a grasp on what I was supposed to do. It’s not like they have any structure or a user’s manual, for crying out loud. This is what Randy said to me, he said…”
Her voice changed to a mocking rendition of Randy. “‘Jessica, you’re a very unfortunate soul. You see, homeschooling never prepared you for goth, gangster, nerd, geek, stoner, jock, or any pubescent social group that encourages you
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