“I’m Rose-Marie de Rouen.” No change in the man’s quizzical expression. “Monsieur de Rouen’s daughter.” Still no change. “Your master....�� “‘Master’?” Nicholas laughed. “I’m sorry my French is not very good. You mean ‘employer’.” Rose-Marie was puzzled. What difference was there? “Yes, employer.” Nicholas glanced up and down at her, taking in her pale pert breasts, her slender thighs and the mound of her crotch. “So what is it you want, miss? Do you want to help me in the garden?” Rose-Marie. I froze in my tracks. Huh? What? Who the hell is she talking to? I went back into the bedroom and lay on the bed, and picked up the extension and immediately hit the ‘mute’ button. Their conversation had moved onwards, but was definitely firmly rooted in the gutter. ‘Sandra,’ Lesley was saying, ‘I’ve gotta tell you, if I had it in me to share, I would.’ Sandra giggled. ‘I might have taken you up on that offer, the way you talk about it. Tell me more!’ Lesley took a deep breath. ‘Where to. More

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