Royally Bedded, Regally Wedded
"OH MY darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Benjy-mine—You are mucky, oh, so mucky, so it's Benjy's bathy-time."
Lizzy chirruped away, pushing the laden buggy along the narrow country lane as dusk gathered in the hedgerows. Crows were cawing overhead in the trees near the top of the hill, and the last light of day dwindled in the west, towards the sea, half a mile back down the coombe. It was still only late spring, and primroses gleamed palely in the verges and clustered in the long grass of the lower part of the hedge. The upper part was made of stunted beech, its branches slanted by the prevailing west wind off the Atlantic, which, even now, was combing along the lane and whipping her hair into yet more of a frizz—though she'd fastened it back as tightly as she could. But what did she care about her awful hair, charity shop clothes and total lack of looks? Ben didn't, and he was all she cared about in the world.
"Not mucky, Mummy. Sandy,'Ben corrected her, craning his head round reprovingly in the buggy.
"Mucky with sand," compromised Lizzy. "Keep singing," instructed Ben.
She o ... read full excerpt from Royally Bedded, Regally Wedded ebook
