Taking the Lord’s monster.
Taking the Lord’s monster. A period Romance The breakfast table swayed from side to side as I approached, the kitchen walls seemed to have become pliable and the very floor moved like the ocean swell. “Good night was it ‘Lordhip,” Bessie the scullery maid asked as I went to steady the chair that I might sit. “God alone knows,” I averred, “Oh my head.” “I said as you should lay off of the mead,” Annie the cook reminded me. “You are the damned cook not my damned mother,” I retorted angrily, “Get me my breakfast!” “Now!” “But Lordship, tis luncheon time and gone,” Annie protested. “Oh botheration,” I agreed, for as the clock dial stopped swinging across the wall I saw it was nigh on the mid day. “Nice last night weren’t it Lordship,” Bessie …