The Language of Flowers

Lady Charlotte’s maid entered the sitting room carrying a small bouquet of flowers.  Lady Charlotte immediately laid aside her novel to receive the flowers.

“Flowers, my lady,” the maid said handing her the bouquet.  There was no card, but the flowers themselves carried the message.  She ran her fingers over the sprigs of rosemary, the herb’s scent crisp and almost astringent scent clinging to her fingers.  So, this will be an assignation that I won’t forget.  She mused, considering the herb’s meaning .

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All Wrapped Up in Work

 Read the entire story here: [Part 1 Working Late]  [Part 2 All Wrapped up in Work] [Part 3: What Vicki Did at the Ritual]  [Part 4: Victoria Finds Her Man… Two of Them]

Victoria turned to leave the chamber.  She’d had her moment, but it was time to tell the professor she’d discovered the hidden room and what she was certain was Pharaoh Djet’s sarcophagus.

She heard stone scraping against stone, followed by something light and wispy brush against her arm. She grinned gritted hey teeth against a scream.  She was still being mocked for screaming at a scorpion in her first week, so she wasn’t going to add spiders to the list.

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