Part 39 YOUNG LIONS by Coralynn

The cab careens through the heavy traffic and in no time they are deposited in front of the New York Public Library.
"Look at the Lions they have in stone!" Rosamond gushes, "Those are stone, are they not, John?"
"I do not know," John says in confusion, "but they do not seem to be moving."
"They are stone for sure!" Rosamond leaps from the cab and runs up the steps in front of the Library and throws herself around the neck of one of the statues.
The other four quickly catch up with her and pull her away.
"You do not blend in well when you behave like that," Eleanor explains.
"This is all too thrilling!" Rosamond announces to anyone within hearing, and there are, as is usual in the summer, about a hundred people congregating on the steps that lead up to the Library. Some look at her and smile.

"Enough of this," William says, "We are going inside where the computers are, and I do not want outbursts from any of you. Can you simply walk along quietly and do as I say?"
They nod their agreement and the group enters the library.
Eleanor says in a muted voice, so as not to disobey William, "this is a huge room full of books, and look up there? More books up on a higher floor, and they just go on forever! I wonder where they keep their history books!"
"We are not here to read about history," William reminds her, "We are here to find out if there is any information about John's wife, Elizabeth, and Caleb Adams, remember?"

Bethiah is totally mesmerized with the light coming from the chandeliers.
She stands transfixed.
The others are almost all the way to where the computers are before she realizes it and rushes to catch up.

"I am staying here forever," she announces, "These people do not have to burn oil lamps or candles. This city is magic!"
William approaches a computer, sits on the seat in front of it and turns it on. Various odd things happen to it, at least they are novel to the others.
They gape.
"How can a box such as this tell us about Elizabeth?" John Gwinett inquires.
"It is too long and complicated to explain," William answers, "And most people do not understand how these work at all, only that they do."

On the screen a slot that says 'search' appears. William touches the little pads with the letters on them and they magically appear on the screen.
"Good Lord," Eleanor exclaims, "Now I know I shall never return to the 12th Century. They have nothing like this. I want to learn how to make one of these do what you are making this one do, William. Do you think I could learn?"
"Why would you want to do that, Eleanor?"
Eleanor whips out a newspaper she has grabbed up. She opens it near the back and starts to read from the want ads. "It says here that if you can make one of these computers work, you may be paid money for it, and William, I want my own money. I cannot ask you for everything. I want a .....a....job, there, that's the word for it."
John Gwinett is aghast, "Women do not work outside the home, Eleanor, do you not know that?"
"I know you mean no harm, John, but THIS woman went on the Crusades. If I can do that I can do anything I want!"
"We will deal with your learning to make the computer work later, Eleanor. For now we are here to find out about Elizabeth and Caleb."
William begins pushing different places, moving the strange thing he slides around in his hand.

It takes a few minutes for them to notice that Rosamond has wandered off. John casts his eyes around the library looking for her. He spots her over by some young men sitting in stuffed chairs reading books and newspapers. She is draped over the arm of one of the chairs and is laughing at something one of the men just said.
"Yes," she trills, "She IS my mother, cannot you tell......see how old she is? See how wrinkled and drawn she looks? No, no, I will never look that wretched; I take after my father!"
The men laugh and wink at each other.
Eleanor hears this and marches to Rosamond, yanking her by the arm and pulling her forcibly across the room.
"How dare you?" she scolds, "You are such a little harlot, and mean, you are as mean as the dung out in the stableyard smells."
"Take your hands off me, Eleanor!" Rosamond's voice is becoming louder, "You are jealous, just jealous that all the men want me and not you. Look at you! You look old and unfriendly all dressed up like that. No man would ever want anything to do with you, not in this century nor in the ones we left behind!"

Eleanor approaches the computer William is obviously having little luck with, as he keeps repeating "no, they aren't listed here, no, they aren't listed there either.
Eleanor bumps him away from his station with her hip. He is shocked. She positions herself in front of the keys and begins to type in "Rosamund Clifford."
William is dismayed, but fascinated at the same time.

"Wonderful!" Eleanor exults for anyone within 30 feet to hear, "She dies at 40, and rumors are I kill her! Let's see, it says here I give her a choice of poison or being stabbed. They do not say which method she chose. Wellll, Rosamond, what say ye?"

"Those are lies, pure lies," Rosamund insists, "Besides, neither of us is going back to that century ever again anyway."

William can see the fultility of this computer search. Look what has transpired already! If they tarry any longer in this place more horrible things will be learned.
He also wonders how he will ever get them to willingly return to the 13th Century. He must have three people to make the coin work, and both Eleanor and Rosamond have expressed a strong desire to remain here in the timeframe they are currently inhabiting. How can he convince them to cooperate so that he himself can return? He cannot use Bethiah or John to go back, as they would only desire to see 1640 again, though why anyone would want to live then is beyong him. But would they find the 12th century any more appealing? Nay. Could he perhaps put an ad in the newspaper for fellow time travelers? Various possibilities swirl in his mind. If he alone tries to go back in time, the coin simply will not work for him. He is distressed that he didn't think of the possibility of the others mutiny. He might have brought along two or three others in case such a situation arose, but how could he have known?

"We best go to our hotel," he tells the group, "There is no information about Elizabeth or Caleb. They only have information about people who were famous."
Eleanor gets a cocky look on her face.
"I am famous already for killing Rosamond and I haven't even done it yet. Mayhap I can throw her in front of one of those cabs out on the street and kill her again. What would history say about that?!"
"Knock it off, Ellie," Rosamond sneers, "You need me. You need someone to pick on, and until you find someone here in New York to pick on, you have me. Henry went almost berserk the way you picked on him. Poor Henry, he never deserved such a miserable witch for a wife. Without me to comfort him, he no doubt would have ended his life by his own hand."

"March, one, two, three, four, out the door!" William commands everyone.
The 21st Century certainly hasn't sweetened up anyone's dispostion, he can see that. Bethiah has been docile and sweet, and John is a gentleman, but what is he going to do with those two women who fly at each other's throats the way they do?

Another cab stops for them and they pile in. This time, when William says "To the Plaza" he means it. If he can separate those women, peace might reign. He is organizing the sleeping arrangements in his mind. Bethiah and Rosemond can share a room, but Eleanor has to be alone, or mayhap Eleanor might be kind to Bethiah and help her cope with her new surroundings. Yes, that would do. Just get her away from Rosamond. He and John can share. That means three rooms. How many charges can he put on his credit card before it maxes out? He tries to add up the sums he has charged to it thus far. Well, he figures they may be alright for a couple weeks in the Plaza. Eleanor may have a point about them getting jobs.

They need money coming in.
What can they do, though, in this modern century? Eleanor wants to learn computers, but if she finds out any more about history it may backfire. Being headstrong he probably will not be able to talk her out of it. Rosamond could be a waitress perhaps? Could she do that without causing a riot amonst the men in every establishment in which she works? What about the theater for William himself. Hmmmmmm, how thrilling to trod the boards. That is one idea.

They arrive at the Plaza and remove themselves from the cab.
At last Bethiah speaks, "I am tired, so tired. Are there beds in the building you call a hotel, William?"
"Indeed there are, Bethiah, and you will soon be able to sleep upon one."
She smiles and her face lights up. What a pleasure such a woman is. She is satisfied with simple things and basic comforts. William knows that of the 3 women she is the only one like that. Oh, indeed!
They approach the desk in the lobby, trying not to gape at the sumptuous appointments everywhere they look.
"I must have died and gone to Heaven!" Rosamond says gleefully.
"You got the first part right!" Eleanor retorts.
"Stop it right now," William demands, "We will behave like civilized human beings. We will blend in if it's the last thing we do!"
"Oh, it'll be the last thing, alright," Eleanor points in the direction of Rosamond, who is sauntering across the lobby to the elevators. The doors open and she steps in. The doors close. They hear a scream. Sounds like Rosmond. The arrow at the top of the elevator begins to rise to 1, then 2, then 3.....and eventually the screaming becomes fainter and fades away.


Part 40 Oh my Goodness!! by Coralynn

Everyone but William is amazed and confused by Rosamond's screams.
They look at him for explanation.
"Rosamond entered an elevator," he began, "which is a small room that moves up or down, depending on which button on the wall is pushed. I saw one other lady on the elevator, who must have gotten on before Rosamond, so hopefully she will put Rosamond's fear to rest."
Or not......
The arrow begins to come back down to the smaller numbers, and when it reaches "L" the doors open and Rosamond runs out looking afright.
Bethiah moves toward her saying, "Oh you poor dear....." with her arms extended to hug her, but Rosamond ignores her and rushes up to John, throwing herself into his arms and shaking violently. John has no choice but to hug her also, and make comforting sounds.
"You can stop play acting any time now, Rosie!" Eleanor says with distain, "You must have been told by the other woman in the elevator what it was. Enough with the helpless maiden act!"
"They did not have rooms that move in my time," Rosamond insists, "nor in yours either, John. Of course it is terrifying!"
"What time was that, Rosamond?" John asks in a confused tone.

William sees that a conference is overdue.
"I have the keys for the three hotel rooms we are to occupy, but for now we are all going to the room John and I are to share. I need to tell you some important things, John and Bethiah."
"I will NOT get back in that terrifying room!" Rosamond cries.
"As you wish, but the rest of us are going up to the 32nd floor by that method. If you wish to take the stairs, that is up to you."
He gestures to the door labeled "Stairs."
"Come on, John," Rosamond tries to pull him with her toward the stairs, "I will need you to help me. Come along!"
John holds back, looking beseechingly at William for aid.
"NAY!" William declares, "John will be going with us on the elevator!"
There ensues a tug of war between William and Rosamond, one pulling John toward the stairs, the other toward the elevator.
"Please," he begs, "Please, Rosamond, it sounds like our rooms are very high up. We must go with the others into the moving room."
Rosamond knows she has lost, and huddles close to John, tears coursing down her face.
"But I am so delicate and with......" she begins.
"Oh no you don't," Eleanor interrupts, "Not that excuse again!"

The five enter the elevator, Rosamond clinging to John, crying.
Bethiah has not spoken, but is confused about these newfound friends, some of whom are becoming stranger and stranger. She cannot figure it out.

The elevator swiftly rises to the 32nd floor and the doors open.
"See? That wasn't so bad at all!" Bethiah announces, "I was not one bit afraid."
William appreciates Bethiah's attitude. She may be a real trooper after all!!
"Into the room John and I have," he herds them, "Sit anywhere, but sit and listen."

The door opens to a sumptuous room replete with velvet drapes and two enormous beds.
"This is quite palatial," Eleanor comments, "I dare say it suits you well, William."
They are all seated, looking expectantly at Wiliam, who begins:
"John and Bethiah, the three of us were born hundreds of years before you were, and we are of the English Royalty."
John sits up rapidly and his expession becomes intense. "NO!" he blurts out, "How can that be?"
"Remember the magic coin that we used to get to 21st Century New York? Well, that coin also took us to 1640 from back in the 13th, no actually, closer to the 12th Century."
Bethiah is enraptured. "Would we know who you were if you told us your real names?" she asks.
"Very possibly. I am William the Conqueror, who fought at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. I was the first King crowned in Westminster Abbey." Bethiah and John are overcome.
"YOU are William as in William the Conqueror?!" they both say incredulously.

"Yes, I am." is his simple reply.
"Then who are they?" Bethiah asks, looking at Eleanor and Rosamond.
"Eleanor is Eleanor of Aqutaine," William begins, "who married King Henry 11 and is the mother of Richard the Lionheart and King John."
"I read about you!" Bethiah says enthusiastically, "You went on the Crusades! You also married some King in France before you met Henry, did you not?"
"You do know your history well," Eleanor smiles at Bethiah, "When very young, I married Louis V11 of France. It was terrible. He was so pious he would hardly ever touch me. I hated being married to him and we got a divorce."
"Of course Louis didn't want to get near her, who would, she's so nasty and mean! But she was fooling around with Henry while she was still married to Louis!" Rosamund interrupts. "She was shameless and wicked!" with that she smiles in satisfaction. So much for Eleanor coming off looking like a heroine!

"And you......." John begins hesitantly, "........are Rosamond Henry's mistress?"
"Oh I know what you're all thinking," Rosamond retorts, "You think I'm even worse than Eleanor, but I am the one who kept Henry from going stark, staring mad being abused by his wretched wife. He only married her to gain all that territory in France after all!"
Eleanor takes the glass of water sitting on the end table and throws it in Rosamond's face.
"He had me locked up so he could have his affair publicly and shame me and I could do nothing about it!"
"He locked you up because you were constantly plotting against him!"
Rosamond yells back, mopping the water from her face with the edge of the bedspread.
"STOP this!" William commands, "We are not here to pass judgement on anyone nor to decide who is more at fault. I thought it only fair to tell John and Bethiah our true identities. No more accusations from either one of you!"

A huge question is forming in John's mind. He finally asks, "Why did you decide to come to Southold in 1640 and to New York in the 21st Century?"
William answers, "We didn't actually set out to visit Southold in 1640, it just happened by accident. The coin was not working very well and dropped us into your midst. We were trying to get to 21st Century New York at the time so that we could......."
Eleanor leaps to her feet and points at Rosamond.
"We came here so that Rosamond, who pretended to be with child, could have a DNA test!"
"A what??!"
"A test that identifies the father of a child after it is born," William explains, "as there seemed to be doubt, and I volunteered to bring her here so that we could know for a surety."
"You are a trollop?" John is bewildered, "You did tell me some things back in Southold, but these things I am now learning are even more shocking! I am disappointed and any feelings I was developing for you are dead now. You did not know the father of your child?!"
"I was pretending!" Rosamond tells him fervently, gazing into his face.
"You were lying, Rosamond, how can any man trust you now?" John says sadly.

"I am so tired and so confused, my head in aflutter," Bethiah says, and all can see how drained she looks. "I would like to sleep first and then I will be able to understand more fully upon the morrow. How can we all be here together now when we were born over 400 years apart? How can you be Kings and Queens and not be in your native land? Who is ruling in your place? Tell me tomorrow, as I am so tired I must get some sleep. What a day this has been!"

"Indeed!" William agrees, "You and Eleanor are sharing a room and Rosamond has one to herself. John and I will be staying in this room. Your rooms are every bit as beautiful as this one, so do enjoy your night of rest."

Eleanor puts her arm around Bethiah as they leave the room. Bethiah looks at her and asks "Eleanor of Aquitaine truly?"
"Yes dear," Eleanor replies, "Tomorrow you will find it more easily understood."
Rosamond, who has been humiliated in front of John, stands as tall and proudly as she can, and walks toward her room. She glances back at him briefly, hoping he will give her an encouraging smile. However, John is still frowning, shaking his head, and pursing his lips.
Rosamond wonders if she can lure him into her room. She has it all to herself, after all. This may not be the night, though. No, this is definitely not the night.

When Behiah and Eleanor enter their room, they again look around at the beautiful appointments and sigh.
Bethiah lies on one of the beds.
"Ooooooo my," she exclaims, "this is the most comfortable thing I have ever lain upon!"
Eleanor starts pulling many things out of a shopping bag she has been carrying.
"See what I got for us to sleep in, Bethiah!" she says proudly.
"Those are lovely nightclothes, Eleanor," Bethiah exclaims, "I thought we only got street clothes at that big store we went in."
"Ohhhhh we got more than that!" Eleanor laughs as she spreads the clothing out on her bed.
"Come see the beautiful things I bought you!"
There are nightgowns, robes, dresses, even bluejeans. Bethiah runs her hands over some of them and gets a gleeful expression.
"What will William say??" she asks, her eyes twinkling.
"I care not what Wililam says,"Eleanor tells her, "If he thinks we will go with him back to Court in England, he is mistaken. We have enough clothing here to last us a good long time! We will not want for anything! See? We even have long gowns for going to parties and celebrations!"

"You're the best!" Bethiah throws her arms around Eleanor. "Only the best for US, friend Bethiah, we are going to take the town by storm!" Eleanor announces, as the two women dance about the room.


Part 41:Dear Mr. Conqueror...Your account is exceeding your credit limit.....by TERRI

Eleanor yawns. "Bethia, let's get to sleep. Tomorrow is another day. I have memorized William's AmEx account number and I see there is a box with something on it called Home Shopping. All sorts of stuff--especially jewelry. We can shop and have it sent over."
Bethia seems dubious. "Isn't it taking advantage of William's generosity? "
Eleanor retorts, "That's just the price he has to pay for inflicting me with Rosamond's presence."
Bethia wanders into the bathroom. She runs excitedly out. "Eleanor, there are all sorts of little bottles filled with wonderful fragrances! I always had to wash up with brown laundry soap I had to make from sheep tallow. It left my skin flaky. Caleb always said it was a sin to smell like a doxy from the wharfs."
Eleanor grabs a big fluffy towel. "Me first."
Bethia is beginning to get the idea that Eleanor's first baby words were "Me First."

William and John go up to their rooms. William flops down on the bed.
"I don't know what is worse, these cowboy boots or having Rosamond and Eleanor walking over me with those high heels."
John turns to William. "You don't hold either of them in high esteem, do you?"
William sighs deeply. "John, I have been traveling miles with those two not to mention eight centuries. If they were cats, I'd put them in a gunny sack and toss them into the East River. Not the Hudson--it's too clean!"
John smiles.
" So tell me what they are like. I have read of them in history but to see them face to face is something else."
William grimaces. "Well, Eleanor is a proud, headstrong woman. She rules her sons and they do her bidding. Richard is her favorite but alas, Richard has problems of his own, most likely due to an uncaring father and a domineering mother. I don't want to elaborate on that. John is a spoiled brat. Used to throw temper tantrums. Still does if things don't go his way. Used to execute rats in the dungeons for treason. Probably pulled the wings off butterflies, too. Eleanor is a gutsy woman, used to ride into the Crusades. She and Henry had to uh, get married so she has a certain liberal view of marital relations.Except when it comes to her husband and Rosamond."
John's ears perk up with interest. "Tell me about Rosamond."
William smiles to himself.
"If Rosamond were a mystical creature, she would be a fairy. She delights in mischief and flitters from place to place, man to man. Once I found myself looking for her wings! Maybe it is not her fault, she had a pretty bad upbringing. A father who was weak and a mother who pushed ahead in court. Rumor has it she was Geoffrey's mistress. Rosamond inherited her mother's beauty and alas, her morals too."
John asks, "Did she love Henry?"
"Oh, as much as Rosamond could love. She carried on an open affair with Henry and had his child. When we had a medieval feast, Henry VIII showed up looking for a wench to bear his child. He set his sights on Rosamond and she faked a pregnancy to get out of it. Unfortunately it backfired on her because it turns out she was carrying on with both Henry and his son Richard. In spite of Richard's problems, he hated his father enough to take what was his. This goes back a long ways."

John stretches his arms out, and says,
"I see you have your hands full. This is so much to take in. I think I will wander around and see what this inn has to offer. Never did the Red Goose offer such diversity."
William frowns. "Just be careful and don't talk to anyone if you can avoid it. And for goodness sakes, keep you eyes from looking like saucers!"

Rosamond glances out of her room, seeing all the lights below. What wondrous sights! She picks up a brochure for the amenities of the hotel. Hmmm...I'm not sleepy. Guaranteed Eleanor and Bethia are talking about me. Maybe not Bethia..but Eleanor could sway her.
Rosamond feels lonely. Seeing something called a hot tub sounds marvelous!
Look at all the people in the painting on the brochure. They look like they are having a good time.
It's midnight and the tubs probably don't have anyone down there. No problem to go down and just look, is there?
By now Rosamond has figured the little room that goes up and down won't bite her.
She enters it and goes down to the lobby. Finally she locates the room marked "Spas and Hot Tubs". The lights are off--she dares not turn them on.
It's so quiet here. "I'd love to go in," she whispers to herself. Alas--none of that skimpy garments called a bikini were in her valises. Oh, well--no one is here.
Rosamond silently slips out of her minidress. Sheds her undergarments by the side of the pool.
As she slips her body into the hot water, a hand clasps over her mouth and whispers, "Shall we order some champagne?"

Rosamond stifles a scream and looks up into the face of John Gwinnett.
"You shag-earred lewdster! How dare you not make your presence known!" John couldn't help but laugh. "What, and miss the show? I am surprised you did not trip over my breeches!"
Rosamond reluctantly smiles. Then she panics. "My Lord--I have never bathed with a man before!"
John laughes,. "Nor have I with a saucy wench! I did discover a marvelous brew called champagne that bubbles forth and tickles the nose. I also found that if you give them your room number, the bill goes to the room. I also ordered some French dish called 'hor d'ouerves.' Marvelous--sure beats venison! I also was sent two goblets. I guess the gentleman tending bar thought I had company. Which I now do."

Rosamond suddenly feels self-conscious about her undressed state. She is feeling particularly vulnerable. Never before has she been in this situation without it being her own initiative. Before she had always plotted her affairs, especially for advancement. Now here she was with a most attractive, available man of whom she had nothing to gain. John smiles at her. "Try this drink--beats the devil out of mead!" Rosamond takes a swallow and starts to sneeze. "What a marvelous drink!" Before John can stop her, she downs the entire glass. John refills her glass as well as his own. Before they know it, they have emptied the bottle and started on a second.

Rosamond is starting to feel the effects of the liquor, going straight to her head.
She puts her arms around John and kisses him on the neck. Then she passes out.
John rings for the barkeep. "Could you please send out for a robe? The lady appears to have partaken of her limit."
The barkeep smiles knowingly and goes to get him a couple robes. These English people are more hot-blooded than reported, he thinks to himself.
The barkeep lays the robes by the edge of the pool, winks to John and said, "Have a terrific evening!"
John is puzzled. What did he think was going to happen?
He gently wraps Rosamond in her robe and wonders how he can get Rosamond to her room without William seeing him or finding out or worse, expecting the worst!

William drapes Rosamond's arms around his neck and hoists her up. An elderly couple passes them by, staring.
John explains, "She's had too much sun and we are just celebrating our nuptials."
The old man gives him a knowing wink and his wife slaps his hands and leads him away, tsk-tsking.
As he stuffs himself into the elevator, he presses the button that says 32 and props Rosamond against the wall. Rosamond slips to the floor, her robe slipping past her shoulders. John is suddenly filled with pity for this waif of a woman who sems to have picked the wrong men. The elevator doors open at 32 and once again John carries Rosamond out. When he reaches her door, he realizes that he has no way of getting Rosamond into her room. No key! Rosamond must have forgotten it.

Spying a linen closet, John stuffs Rosamond in it and closes the door.
Surely she will be safe there until he can get a key from the front desk. He quickly heads back to the elevator and down again.
William, feeling a midnight snack coming on, calls room service. "Please send up a tray of crudites and some Heineken please." Within five minutes, William sticks his head out of his room to see if room service has come. Down the hall he hears banging on a storage room closet. On investigating closer, he hears a muffled, "Hey! Get me out of here!"

Pulling the door open, a tousled, tipsy Rosamond tumbles out.
"What the devil are you doing in there, and why is your hair so wet? And why do you smell like the vineyards of Brittany?"
Rosamond is about to offer what she can remember by way of an explanation when John hurries from the elevator.
"Uh, oh." John looks shamefaced and Rosamond is confused.
"What the devil is going on? Can I not turn my back on you Rosie for a minute? Hast thou corrupted John?"
Rosamond glances down at her inappropriate attire. She looks William dead in the eye and said, "I decided to try the hot tub. John was there and took advantage of me. He gave me strong drink and before I knew it, I had passed out and I have no idea where my clothes are--or what John did with them when he took them off."
Willliam whirls around to John. "Is this true? Have I taken a rogue with us to NY?
I don't know what they called it in the 16th century but in 2001 it is called sexual harrassment!"
John is shocked. "I did no such thing!" He goes on to explain what Rosamond had done, how it was an innocent meeting. Rosamond gazes up at John and says, "Maybe, but the intent to seduce was there. I've been there, done that!"
William pulls the belt on his robe tighter. "No harm done. Rosie, watch your step.
I don't need you tempting men in a different century. You already wreaked havoc with the 13th! Now if you will excuse me, I have a cold beer and vegetable platter waiting for me. John, I will leave you to lock up."
John turns to Rosamond, "Why did you lie like that? I was only trying to help you. I could have left you there for the pool boys to find!"
Rosamond smiles wickedly at John. "Well, it's not out of the realm of possibility. If I hadn't passed out who knows where the champagne would have led us to. Henry used to take me on picnics with little to eat and lots of mead. Lord, that man could drink--being married to Eleanor, I guess that was how he made it through the day!"

Rosamond squeezed the water out of her hair and hiccuped.
"I guess I had better turn in. Thanks for the good time, John!"
With that, Rosamond throws her arms around John and gives him a kiss he feels all the way down to his toes. Did she loosen the belt around her robe on purpose?
They fall against the door to 3227, flinging it open.
Eleanor and Bethia are on the couch, watching the Cubic Zirconia segment of the Home Shopping Channel. Bethia is writing orders down on a notepad and Eleanor is in the middle of placing an order.
Both stops in mid-air.
John scrambles up off the floor, red-faced. Rosamond gave Eleanor a triumphant smile. Bethia's mouth flew open.
Eleanor shoots Rosamond a contemptuous look. "Do you MIND...I am in the middle of a...a consultation. Looks like you are, too, Rosie."
With that, Eleanor pushes her out and slams the door.

John looks down at the floor. "Goodnight Rosamond. I will stay here and make sure you get in your room safely."
Rosamond heads to her room. Looking over her shoulder, she says, "I'm sure we will more of each other, John....a LOT more!"
John gives her a little smile. "How much more is there to see, Rosamond? I daresay I have seen it all!"
With that she closes the door and John heads to room 3225.

William sits on the bed, uncapping his fourth beer. "Here, John, help yourself. You look like you could use a cold beer...mayhap a cold shower....I mean, with the hot tub being so steamy and all."
John sits wearily on the bed. "William, I am so confused. I have unloosed from a wife not more than five days ago and now I have a wench from the 12th century hot after me and I am in a century I don't understand."
William peels the label from his beer. "Well, John that is just something you are going to have to deal with. But I tell you, watch out for Rosamond. She wreaked havoc on the Plantagenet family and she'll chew you up and spit you out."
John gazes at the door. "Yes, but you know, that hour in the hot tub was the best in my life."

The next morning a knock comes on the door of Room 3225. "Your mail, sir" says the bellman to William. Wiliam rips open his AMEX bill. To this day the oaths and threats are still hung in space over the Empire State Building.
For William has just gotten his bill from Bloomingdales!


PAGE 42: GET a JOB, dadadadada by TERRI

Arrangements had been made the night before to meet in the hotel restaurant for breakfast.
William is already waiting. One can almost see the thunderclouds over his head.
John comes ambling down, feeling very self-conscious about facing Rosamond in the light of day.
Eleanor and Bethia come off the elevator next. They are whispering and giggling like two schoolgirls.
Rosamond is the last to arrive, wearing a cat-that-ate-the canary satisfied look on her face.
Wiliam can barely contain himself. "I have received my bill from AmEx.
It started out by saying I have exceeded my credit limit, that some expenses raised suspicion because they were out of the ordinary for my purchasing habits. I guess they never saw such a high bill from Victoria's Secret....have they, Rosamond? Or from Cartier's...have they, Eleanor?"
Rosamond grows red in the face.
Eleanor cattily remarks, "Picking up some working threads, you strumpet? Or were you going to impress a party of just one?"
Eleanor gives John a hard stare. "Oh, I forgot...Rosie doesn't NEED all that fancy underwear...not as long as there is a bottle of champagne and a hot tub."
Rosamond flicks jelly from her biscuit in Eleanor's direction.
"And YOU, Eleanor, as queen have you not enough of the Crown Jewels to wear at your disposal?"
Eleanor calmly remarks, "William, you know well that those are only for state occasions."

And John...what is this bar tab that came up for my signature this morning? Two bottles of Dom Perignon is outrageous!"
John tries to explain, "I thought it was inexpensive..after all, with that name, isn't it cheap Spanish wine?"
"NO...certainly not! I certainly hope it was worth it!"
Rosamond whispers to John, "It would have been, had I not passed out!"
John just shakes his head. He had no idea how liberal these medieval women were. He was so used to the Puritan way of life...all work, and if it brought pleasure surely it must be sinful. Yet he was feeling this warring in his conscience. Rosamond is not only lovely, but she is fun to be with. If she is fun, it must be wrong.
William stands, with his hands on the table.
"The only sensible one is Bethia. She had the common sense to buy only what she needed and not take advantage of my generosity."
Bethia blushes as Eleanor smirks. Little does William know that Bethia's Home Shopping order is on its way.
"Well, there is just one thing to do..to teach you the value of a hard-earned American dollar, you are going to find gainful employment and help pay for this little 'vacation' into the 21st century. I will not let it go down in history that William the Conqueror was a deadbeat who skipped out on his tab!"

Bewildered, they look at each other.
Eleanor draws herself up regally. "What do you mean? I am a QUEEN. What can I possibly do?"
Rosamond retorts, "Why don't you hire yourself out as a queening woman?!" Eleanor practically spats in Rosamond's face, "Well, aren't YOU a little scrubber?"
With that Rosamond throws her whole biscuit at Eleanor.
"ENOUGH!" William roars, mopping his brow. Lord, my kids weren't this petty, he thinks.
"You will go down to an employment agency, and find what you are best suited for."

He gathers them all together and leads them down to the Broadway Employment Agency. Mr. Simpson bustles forth. "Ah, Mr. Conqueror (such an unusual name,sir!)
I understand you want placement for these individuals. Let me interview them one at a time....

Name: Bethia Adams
Sex: Female
Age: 28
Marital Status: Abandoned
Residence: Southold, NY
Skills: Canning, quilting, cooking, weaving
Interests: Gardening and making candles

Mr. Simpson looks at Bethia over his reading glasses. "Well, Ms. Adams, you are quite the domestic homemaker. We rarely get women who are skilled at the home arts. Yet you are far too intelligent for domestic service. Have you any further education?"
Bethia looks down at the floor."All I learned, I learned from my mother."
"Ah...hands-on training. The best teacher is experience. If you had any college experience I would recommend you for a home economics teacher. However, you seem to have a vast knowledge of skills that were practical about 400 years ago.
Tell you what---they are opening a museum that you would be perfect for. It is a replica of a village in New England where you can be a docent.

"A docent? What is that?" Bethia inquires shyly.
"A docent is like a host who is knowledgeable in skills from long ago. The museum is located on the other side of the park--just opened. It is like Williamsburg." explains Mr. Simpson.
"Wiliamsburg? Oh, the town in Virginia. I had cousins who lived there. They had to leave Salem." Bethia replies confidently. "The local populace encouraged them to leave."
"Ah...yes. Job transfers I understand." Mr. Simpson comments.
Bethia decides silence would be golden at this point.
"I see you are abandoned. Too bad."
"Oh no! I did the abandoning. I wonder how Caleb is getting along, now that he doesn't have me to...." Bethia shuts up. She has said enough.
Mr. Simpson coughs gently. "Well, dear, you must have had your reasons." Anyways, go see a Mrs. Horton. She will give you the details."
Bethia rises, showing an excitement she is now beginning to feel.
Imagine! Getting paid to can and quilt and weave! Bethia walks out of Mr. Simpson's office on a cloud.

Name: John Gwinett
Sex: Male
Age: 30
Status: Deserted
Residence: Long Island
Skills: Skinning
Interests: fishing and associated with the Indians

"Come in, please, Mr. Gwinnett! Lert's see---age 30 but...deserted? A fine fellow like yourself?"
John Gwinnett looks faraway. "She ran off with the Reverend last week."
Mr. Simpson looks sympathetic. "Ah, yes...these televangelists...there is alot of that around. Just look at....well, enough said! Played with the Indians. I love baseball, too. You look like an athlete...don't tell me, let me guess! Second base? Shortstop? 'Bout time they made it to the Playoffs. Haven't won a pennant since 1954...that Lou Boudreau was something else! Loved that Jacobsen field. They needed a new stadium."
By now John is totally lost in this conversation.
"Stand up. please, Mr. Gwinett. That silk shirt looks great on you. Have you done any modeling?"
"Modeling, sir? I fashioned a musket stock from a single piece of walnut and I carved in my spare time." Gwinnett is puzzled by now.
"Carved? I love skiing too, but I'm getting too old for it,,the knees, you know! Loved to carve those turns,,,,,anyways, we're off the subject. With your looks and physique I have just the perfect job for you. I see you are skilled in skinning!
Must be new slang for stripping. Here...it's an address on Broadway. For a new club...it's called Chippendales!"

Name: Rosamond de Clifford
Sex: Anytime
Age: 23
Status: Kept
Residence: Woodstock Nunnery
Skills: Entertaining and satisfaction
Interests: I love people! (especially kings)

"Well, Miss Clifford...what an intriguing....uh, resume! I love your sense of humor!
Anytime...ha ha ha!"
Rosamond is looking at Mr. Simpson quizzically. "What is so funny?"
"Huh?" Mr. Simpson says. "Kept....guess that should read....hm....oh, well, back to that later! I see you were at Woodstock! Must have been the reunion concert last year. I was there for the one in 1969...what I remember of it! I stayed stoned for four days...wound up in the pond without my clothes and screaming for chocolate babies!"
"Chocolate babies? What are those? We never had chocolate brown babies where I came from."
Now it is Simpson's turn to look puzzled. "Oh, well....too bad Joplin and Hendrix are gone, just not the same at Woodstock."
Rosamond assumes a confident air. "Oh, no...we had Sister Martha Mary and Mary Elizabeth. Sometimes Henry would sneak over. I only stayed there for a while. A convent, you know."
By now Simpson thinks Rosamond is joking with him. "You have a delightful sense of humor and you are a beauty besides. There's a theatre cattle call on 23 St. They are casting for a new soap opera, 'As the Planet Turns.' You would be perfect for the madam Josie."

Rosamond is excited. "Oh, yes, that is a role I have aspired to all my life! Mistress! I get to play myself! Henry will be so proud! "
Simpson smiles to himself. "Hey, ever hear of the casting couch? Yeah, I'll just bet you have! Maybe when this is all over....come back and see me and you can show me your gratitude!"
Rosamond looks him dead in the eye. "Casting couch? Only if you have a kingdom and can keep me in a castle. And be sure to lock your wife up in the dungeon. I don't need another Eleanor on my hands!"
With that she flounced out of the room, shouting over her shoulder, "I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Simpson!"

Name: Eleanor Acquitaine
Sex: Female
Age: None of your business
Status: Married well
Residence: Windsor Castle
Skills: Queening, warring, and various forms of rule
Interests: Advancing myself

Mr. Simpson stares at Eleanor with his mouth open. Quickly closing it, he says, "Well, Ms. Octane..."
"That's Acquitaine to you and don't you be forgetting it!"
Mr. Simpson realizes his mistake, "Oh, I'm sorry....guess I am not used to a 'high- powered' woman like you...heh, heh, heh,,,"
Seeing that Eleanor is not laughing, he clears his throat. "Yes, well,....hm... (none of my business, this will be trouble, he says to himself) "
Eleanor draws herself up haughtily. "I am used to being in a position of power and I will settle for nothing less. I command with an iron fist in a velvet glove. My subjects do what I say."
"I must say, I am not used to employees being referred to as 'subjects', Ellie."
First mistake---NEVER call Eleanor 'Ellie' or worse, 'Nell'.

"Yes, well, you are not ME!" Eleanor replies, "And the name is Eleanor---one more denigrating remark like that and I will have your head removed from your shoulders!"
Mr. Simpson is uncomfortably cowered. Who's in charge, anyway?
"Would you like to explain this term, warring?"
"I used to ride a horse into the Crusades with my husband Louis. He was a wimp. Rumour had it I used to ride bare into the fray. But that is not true. I am an excellent horsewoman, riding bareback all my life. None could joust as well as I and I could unseat a man on his horse within five minutes."
"Ha--ha-- your friend Rosamond could unseat a man off his chair in five seconds, I think! Ha-ha-ha!"
Eleanor darkens, "Rosamond is no friend of mine, even though we share a lot of things. Including my husband Henry.'
Mr. Simpson recoils, "Well, we won't go THERE! Jousting, huh? Oh, I get it! You were part of a troup that toured the Renaissance Festivals! Funny, I never recalled them having a woman as one of the jousters. Women usually ran the artisan booths or walked around like strumpets and wenches"

Seeing Eleanor about to rail on him, he quickly hands her a piece of paper. "Here--this is just up your alley! It's a Renaissance Festival in Central Park--you will love it! Please ask for a wench named Susan Connery. And good luck." (to Mrs. Connery, he adds to himself.)
With that, Eleanor walked out of the office, never looking back.

Name: William of Normandy, aka the Conqueror
Sex: Male
Age: 42
Status: Married, probably widowed by now
Residence: Various palaces in Britain
Skills: Ruling and feasting
Interests: Eating and feasting

"Ah, Mr. Normandy, please come in, come in." Mr. Simpson was sweating profusely.
"I see you just got done with Eleanor." William remarks. "Hence the sweat."
Mr. Simpson mops his brow, "She is one tough mama."
"Yes, well, you should try traveling cen....I mean cross continents with her. She's no day at the beach."
Before he says something he regrets, Mr. Simpson picks up William's resume.
"I suppose your friends call you Conqueror....it's your frat name, right? Right! Mine was Weasel, don't even ask why....guess you got the name Conqueror for obvious reasons, huh?" Mr. Simpson winks. "We had a guy named Studmaster...but I digress! Hmmmmm. Eating and feasting! And I can tell by your girth that you DO like the finer things in life! Tell you what! Cable has a new network called the Food Network. Emeril is overbooked and they are looking for someone to head up a gourmet show...dealing with foods through the centuries, how you can have a 'theme' party with authentic foods. You would be PERFECT for it! Your presence will draw a huge following and hey! They can name you William the Conqueror as your stage name!"

"But I AM William the Conqueror!" William sputters.
"Hey, Normandy, this isn't college...I don't care how many babes you bagged, this is the real world! I haven't been called Weasel since 1966!" Simpson laughs.
"Go see Marty Henshaw---he's the producer you need to see...here's the address!"
With that, William draws himself up regally. "Wait till they see what I can do with a pheasant!"

Mr. Simpson pulls his desk drawer out, takes out a bottle of Jack Daniels, pours himself three drinks and drinks them straight, right in a row. He heads for his coat rack, puts on his sport coat and hat, and says to his secretary Emma, "Cancel all my appointments for the day. The last five did me in...and I won't be back till morning!!"


Part 43: GOT a job, dadadada by Coralynn

William calls them together for a conference in the employment agency waiting room.
"Well," he queries, "Did you all find a job you think you're suited for?" He looks straight at Rosamond, as he does not think she is suited for anything much, and, when he sees her nod her head yes, he is surprised. "What job are you applying for, Rosamond?" he asks.

"OH, I am going to be in a drama on television if they choose me over at......" she shows William the address.
"That is in the same building where I'm going, mayhap we will walk over there together."
"WALK?!" Eleanor blurts out, "Are we reduced to walking now, William?"
"Because of your profligate ways with money, Eleanor, yes we indeed are. It's either that or take the subway."
"What's a subway?" Bethiah asks in total confusion. This century they are in sure has some odd ways of getting people from place to place.
"A subway runs underground," William begins..."And the trains down there move very rapidly, bypassing all the traffic you see here on the streets."

"HEY!" Rosamond objects, "I finally got used to your moving room, the one you call an elevator, but going under the ground to get where you want to go sounds like being put in a dungeon, William! I cannot DO that; I will be afraid for my life!"

"Then we walk to our building, Rosamond. I hope you have comfortable shoes. It's 10 blocks."
"And what pray tell is a block?" Eleanor asks.
"It is the distance between one cross street and the next one," William is beginning to tire of this battery of questions.
"Show me your appointment slips," he tells Eleanor, John and Bethiah. After they are passed to him, he reads them over and concludes, "Your appointments aren't till tomorrow morning, which is good. You can go to the hotel and rest while Rosamond and I attend our job interviews which are scheduled for today, in about an hour. John, what are Chippendales? I know much about the 21st century, yet somehow I don't have knowledge about Chippendales. What did Mr. Simpson tell you about it?"
"Not very much, truly," John answers, "only that I am qualified. I told him my skills, and he spoke strange things in reply, so I am as confused as you, William."

William does not like to be described as confused, so he rallies and tells John, "It must be a place where men such as yourself get to fish and hunt and farm the land, though New York City is an odd place to do that. However, we shall find out tomorrow, shant we?"
They nod yes.
He looks at Eleanor's slip.
"A-ha!" he muses, "A Renaissance festival, I have heard of those. Do they want you to walk about looking royal? Or do they want you to display women's arts, like weaving and looming?"
"Weaving and looming, William?!" Eleanor is insulted, "Walking about Looking Royal? I AM royal, and don't you ever forget it. No, I am going to be in the jousting events. I am going to ride bareback and do all the things I do best!" she finishes boastfully.
"What you do best is drive other people crazy!" Rosamond throws in. "A woman on horseback, rushing at people with those ridiculous poles, knocking them to the ground? Are they stark staring mad that they would let you do that, you of all people?!"

Bethiah has been standing there watching the others patiently, and jumps when William addresses her.
"You are to display early Colonial home making skills in the Colonial Village," Williams says with approval, "At last, a job that will fit as a glove. You see, Eleanor and Rosamond, here is a woman who actually knows how to DO something besides carp at her companions and cause riots wherever she goes. Good for you, Bethiah."
"Are you coming, Rosamond!" he commands.
"Are we to walk all that way, sire?" she looks up at him beseechingly. "Cannot we take a taxi just one more time? Please? I am so delicate........"
Eleanor shoots her one of those "do not use that phony excuse ever again" looks.

"You are like babies," William complains, "Especially you, Rosamond. See how the others are now walking back to the hotel? They must walk as far as you and I are required to go. They are not complaining. I will not hear any whining from you, young lady!"
"But it is summer and they air is wet and I will be all sweaty when we arrive," Rosamond keeps up her whining, "They will not hire someone that is soaking wet and exhausted."
"The air is 'humid' not 'wet.' I know New York is difficult in the summer, but, as I told you before, it's either walk or take the subway."
"Pray tell, what does the subway feel like? Is it cooler?"
"My goodness yes it is cooler, Rosamond, There's an entrance right over there. Let us descend and get to our appointments that way."

They walk to the stairs.
Rosamond looks down and shrinks back in fright.
"Those stairs go down awfully far, William," she clutches at his arm.
"Regardless, we are going down," William pulls her after him. She resists. He keeps pulling her till he is almost lifting her off her feet. Others also descending the stairs look at them askance. Even in Manhattan, where you have seen it all, this is an unusual sight.
A tall black man approaches them and asks,
"Ma'am, is this man bothering you?"
"YES!! He is! He is kidnapping me, he is abducting me!" she cries.
"POLICE!" the man yells loudly, "POLICE!"
The sounds of police officers coming down the stairs makes even Rosamond realize she has gone too far. OH NO, she thinks, Not the stocks again. No no, we do not want constables, we do not want to be clapped into irons, into jail.

Two officers approach Rosamond and William.
"Are you being abducted, miss?" asks the taller one.
"Miss, I like that," Rosamond says dreamily, "It sounds like Mistress. I have always wanted to be the Mistress of a castle. OH, I'm sorry......nono, he is fine, he is my father, no, my grandfather, see how old he is? I was helping him navigate the stairs as he is infirm. It did look odd, but there is no cause for alarm. Thank you for your assistance, thank you for caring. Do you live around here?" she eyes the tall one who is strikingly handsome.
William glowers. First she almost gets him arrested, then she begins flirting with the Police? Is there no limit to this woman's audacity?

As the officers retreat, William says softly,
"You will have to get a grip on yourself. We cannot be making scenes. Remember one of my first rules? And what is it, Rosamond?"

"We are to blend in," she answers in a defeated voice.
"YES, and if we throw tantrums in public places what will happen?"
"We will probably end up in jail again."
William looks at her intently, "I do not want you to ever ever ever forget that again. Now come, the subway is drawing up to the platform."
They approach the train. The doors open automatically. Many people rush out; many people rush in. Rosamond is frightened by the speed and grips William's arm tightly, but not tightly enough.
The doors begin to close. William has already entered the train, and Rosamond is still on the outside. She begins to scream.
"Hit that button!" someone inside the train suggests, "and the door will open for a couple seconds, then you can pull her in."
William does so, and yanks Rosamond into the train. Her eyes are as big as they have ever looked.
She whispers, "this is the ride from hell, I tell you, those doors could have cut me in half. Would you have cared?"
"I don't even know anymore," William confesses, "I am truly trying to do what is right for us all, for each of you, and you are trying my patience to its limit. Sit down and do not say one word till we reach our destination."

She sits on the hard seat. They sure don't go in for comfort on these so-called subways, do they? First they have doors that close upon you, not caring if you get hurt or not, then you have to sit on the hardest seats. Why, these are not even as comfortable as the benches back at Court. Rosamond doesn't get to analyze the discomforts of the subway any longer, as the train has stopped, and William is telling her, "This is where we get off."

Gratefully she leaps up and they run off the train, run up the stairs onto the sidewalk just outside the building they are to enter.
"We must compose ourselves and walk calmly to our appointments," William says as much to himself as to Rosamond.
They enter the building and cool air envelops them.
"Ahhhhhhhh, this is better," Rosamond smiles, "how do they get this air to feel so much better than it does outside?"
"This is called air conditioning, and I do not have the time to explain it to you, so just enjoy it, HEY, tuck your blouse back in, do not stand there fanning it so that your entire body is exposed."
"This helps to cool," Rosamond explains.
"Tuck it IN!" William insists. "Woman, you will be the death of me yet."
They approach the bank of elevators.
Rosamond decides she will be brave and not object to riding these moving rooms anymore.
When they position themselves inside the elevator, along with at least 8 other people, and it begins to move, it goes much faster than the one in the hotel did. It zooms to its first stop.
Rosamond clutches the handrail around the side so that she is not thrown to the floor.
"This is your floor, Rosamund, the tenth floor. Ask someone how to get to this office," William indicates the number on her slip of paper. She straigtens herself and taking a deep breath, moves off onto the tenth floor.
She shows her slip to someone who seems to be working there. The lady points down the hall and tells her it's the third door on the right.

Rosamond enters the correct door, and sits on a very plush chair in the waiting room.
The receptionest asks, "Who are you waiting to see and what time is your appointment?"
Rosamond walks over and shows her slip of paper from the employment agency.
"Ah yes, the cattle call for the soap opera! Go in there," the points to another door.
This term 'cattle call' causes Rosamond to wonder if she is in the wrong place.
She muttlers, "cattle?" under her breath as she goes into the large room that was indicated by the receptionest.
No cattle in here, that is for sure, she thinks.
The place is full of perhaps 50 men, women and children, all smiling and putting on their best faces.
Rosamond sits. In another moment or two a woman carrying a clipboard enters from yet another room and calls out a few names. Rosamond's is among them.
She stands up and follows the woman, telling her, "I am here to play the part of the mistress of the palace."
"No, the whorehouse is not called the palace, I think you have that mixed up with that movie with Burt Reynolds. This one is called "Shirley's Haven for Harlots."
Rosamond wrinkles her forehead. Hmmmm, the word harlot is familiar. But she is not applying for that. She wants to be mistress of the manor or the castle. There must be some mistake.

"Now, Miss Clifford," a kindly looking older man approaches, I am Mr. Birnbaum, "sit over here and tell me of your acting experience."
"I have acted my entire life," she confides, "I have pretended to be pregnant when I was not; I have pretended to like my lover's wife which I did not, I have acted my whole life to get ahead. I have dressed in finery to pretend I was a royal princess. I have dressed in polyester to pretend to fit in......" she can tell she's losing this man's comprehension.

Mr. Birnbaum pulls out a script and thrusts it in front of her.
"I have the part Daisy, the whore, highighted in pink. Please read those lines, while I read the part of Dudley Chesterton. Yes, yes, right there, you've got it, pg 28."

"But Dudley, you know I love you! Only you! I have to make a living, though, for my poor widowed mother and 8 fatherless children.........EIGHT?!"........she breaks.

"Stay in character, Miss Clifford, go on....."
"I must be true to my self, Dudley. You made me quit that job as a topless dancer at a club because you said it was shaming to have me taking my clothes off in front of so many men and....."
"You were mauled by those men, Daisey!" came Mr. Birnbaum's part of the script.
"I quit that job, Dudley! I am now making more money and not out in front of the public. You said you didn't want me taking my clothes off in public. Well, now I'm not. I'm doing it in a little room at the back of Shirley's Haven! I did what you asked! What more can I do to prove I love you and only you?"

Mr. Birnbaum puts down his copy of the script and says, "You are perfect for the part, Miss Clifford."
Turning to his assistant, he instructs her to tell the others in the waiting room hoping to read for the part that they are dismissed.
"I got the job??" Rosamond is thrilled, "I got the job??"
"Yes, my dear," Mr. Birnbaum answers, "There is no one in New York more perfect for the part of a prostitute than you."

Rosamond walks away in glee, but keeps wondering "What's a prostitute?"

Rosamond waits on the main floor for William and wonders how his interview is going.

"Mr. Hinshaw, I presume," William hands his slip to the man in charge. "I hear you are in need of a cooking show. I am here to supply you with a cooking show, with great feasting foods from medieval times." Mr. Hinshaw looks interested as he weighs the idea in his mind. "It will just be a few more minutes now, Mr. Normandy," Mr. Hinshaw explains, "the person auditioning now is almost done, and then it will be your turn."

William hears the sounds of drums and a steel band eminating from the audition room.
He comments, "What an interesting sound. What type of cooking show is this person auditioning for?" he asks Mr. Hinshaw.
"It's a Caribbean cooking show," Mr. Hinshaw informs him, "which is quite novel and he is high on our list of applicants."
William smiles and thinks to himself that surely no one would want to watch a cooking show with that much racket going on behind it, but then you have to take into consideration the strange proclivities of the people in this newer century. However, he still thinks his show will be better.

In a few minutes he sees the Caribbean cooking applicant moving out of the room with his friends lugging out all the drums and steel band equipment, high-fiving each other all over the place, smiling in a triumphant manner.
Maybe these people are stiffer competition than he at first realized. He does not have time to ponder this very long as he is then called in.

"OK, Mr. Normandy," the Producer, Mary Howe, begins, "Can you tell me the format for your cooking show?"
"I am William the Conqueror and know a great deal about medieval feasting. I can teach others how to prepare and serve authentic food from that period of history," William says confidently.
"Hmmmmm, that's an interesting concept," she agrees. "What ingredients do you need, as we have almost anything you could want right here in our huge store room."
"A boar's head," William says.
"Oooooooo, we don't have a boar's head at the moment. That was careless of us. What is your second choice?"
"Pheasant," William is very good with pheasant or at least he thinks he will be. Most of his life others have prepared his meals, but he has from time to time observed them and he thinks he can pull this off.
"We have some of that," Mary is sure, "I think they may be frozen, however. Can you prepare one frozen??"
"Of course!"
Mary instructs one of her assistants to bring a pheasant from the freezer. The girl goes into the walk-in freezer and the door closes behind her.
In a few moments she appears at the window of the freezer, looking cold and panicked.
Mary sighs and walks over to let the girl out again. You just can't get good help these days; this is not the first time this girl has gotten locked in.
Mary turns the handle on the door and it breaks off.
"DAMN!" she yells, "Now I can't open the door, and silly Tilly is in there freezing her buns off!"

William springs into action, grabbing a hatchet from the many odd tools sitting in a basket. He wonders why anyone would need a hatchet to cook, unless they had to go outside and catch their dinner and kill it first. He gestures for the girl to move back from the window, then takes aim and smashes it to bits. He then takes aim and smashes the handle on the door so that it springs open as well.

"You have destroyed our freezer!" Mary laments.
"Madame, would you have the girl die in there?"
"No, but couldn't we have gotten her out a better way? You seem awfully destructive, Mr. Normandy."
He flings the axe back into the basket and announces that he is ready to cook.
He picks up the pheasant and realizes it is frozen solid. He did not think it would be quite that frozen.
OK, he thinks, fair enough, and goes back for the axe.
"Now, ladies and gentleman, I will unfreeze a pheasant," he begins, putting on his most authoritative show-business voice.
At that he places the pheasant on the counter and strikes it with the axe till it is in about 20 pieces. He holds up a few to the camera, then begins to cover them with spices. He isn't totally sure these spices are the right ones, but you have to use what you have at hand, he figures.
He then gets the grill as hot as it will go and flings on the pheasant pieces. They make a great hiss when they come in contact with the poker-hot grill. Grease is flying all around the area. Cooking assistants are moving rapidly away from it.

"My God, man, what a mess!" Mary yells, "Are you insane? It will take all the rest of the day to clean up the grease and......"
"Silence!" he roars.
He continues to pommel the pheasant and pour more grease around and fling pieces from one side to the other. The studio is now awash in hot flying grease.

Mary is alarmed. She sends for Mr. Hinshaw.
"LOOK!" she tells him with panic, "See what a mess? This man is insane and he yelled at me when I told him he was destroying the studio."
"Ahhhhhhh," Mr. Hinshaw rubs his chin thoughtfully, "He is a bully?"
"Most assuredly!" is Mary's reply. "He does not take direction at all!"
"OK, then," Mr. HInshaw says, as he moves from Mary over to where William is finishing up his preparation, "Mr. Normandy, you have the job!!"
Mary gasps.
Hinshaw looks at her and explains,
"This guy is overbearing and looks to have audacity and courage. Someone told me he saved that girl from the freezer. He is so different from any of the other applicants that I feel we should hire him. If we have to mop up after the mess he makes, then we shall mop up."
Mary is worried. This guy is trouble. He does not take direction, and will be difficult to work with.
"How am I going to work with him, though?" she asks Hinshaw.
"You'll find a way, Mary, just remember to get out of his way when he gets an idea. Go with it. We will call him William the Conqueror and hmmmm, we could even have him cook with a crown on his head instead of one of those cooking hats that look so silly. Can you picture him wearing one of those stupid hats?"
Mary can not.
Hinshaw, with Mary behind him, approaches William with his hand out to shake.
"Congratuations, Mr. Normandy," he says, beaming, "You have won the opportunity to air your cooking show on this network. Welcome!"
William takes his hand and pumps it, leaving grease all over Hinshaw, who tries hard not to react.
"Can you wear a crown during your show? I know it's ridiculous and you may feel foolish, but it would be a nice touch."
"I wear a crown on a regular basis," William announces, "But I must warn you; the jewels have to be real. None of this cubic zirconia stuff. I would have brought my own crown had I known it was needed.....but if you hurry over to Tiffany's posthaste, I am sure they could fashion a crown for you, My head is big.......do not make it small, I will be irate if it gives me a headache. And, I want you to stock Boar's Heads, do we understand each other?"

"Oh my, yes, sir," Hinshaw begins to grovel and behave as if he actually believed William was a King. "When your show begins next Monday, let's see, it's Wednesday now, so that will be in......"
"I know how many days it is from Wednesday to Monday," William says impatiently, "And I shall fax over a list of ingredients that must be on hand for my debut show. There is also the issue of money....."
"If your ratings are high, you will be a rich man in no time!" Hinshaw reassures him. "You will be living like a King, hahaha!"
William does not think that is funny and marches out.
Part 44..Sing a Song of Junk Sales, Jousting and...G Strings??...by TERRI The five of them have arranged to meet at Elaine's for dinner so Rosamond and William can relate how their day went.
Rosamond is ecstatic over the wardrobe. "You should see it! I get to wear something called a teddy! It's black and lacy and cut right up to here....and down to here...."
Eleanor makes a face. Bethia sits there with her mouth open. William shakes his head and John Gwinnett sits there mesmerized. One could almost see his wheels spinning.
"We start what they call 'taping' tomorrow. I can't wait. I star opposite this guy named Biff Murdoch. What a good-looking guy!" John can't understand this, but he begins to feel a mite....jealous, shall we say?

Eleanor deliberately turns her back on Rosamond and steers the conversation away from her to William. "Well, how goes it in the larder?" Wiliam looks pensive. "Well, I asked for Boar's Head but the only thing they have are Boar's Head coldcuts--whatever they are. Looks like something the Earl of Sandwich used to eat when he was at his allnight card games. I used an ax on a pheasant--it was frozen! I don't think they appreciated it--especially the grease fire."
"GREASE FIRE?" Bethia exclaimed. "You started a GREASE fire?"
William is embarrassed. "Let's order, shall we?"
After dinner, and the snifters of brandy are sipped, William suggests that they all get a good night's sleep. "After all, you are starting into the working world. It wouldn't do to be tired and not at your peak. Remember, this is 2001, not 1640----or 1200!"
And Rosamond...a word with you privately, please!"
Rosamond lingers behind reluctantly. "I don't know what kind of game you are playing but knock it off," Wiilliam chides.
Rosamond gets defensive, "Why, whatever do you mean, William?"
William grabs her by the wrist. "Please do not scramble with John's brains. He is carrying alot of guilt around about his wife. No more interference from you--especially no more hot tubs."
With that Rosamond jerks her wrist away from William and closes the elevator door in William's face. The last words he hears from her is, "Try using the stairs...Porky!"

The sun shines bright the next morning. As the group meets in Monk's coffee shop, Bethia, John and Eleanor can scarcely eat. A man in his 30's comes up to Rosamond and says, "You know, you should really be in a sitcom---if I ever develop a new one, here's my card and my agent." Rosamond turns his card over and says to the group, "Hey---who's Jerry Seinfeld?"

After a full breakfast, William and Rosamond go off towards the studio together.
Bethia looks at her map and heads to Puritan Village, where she will be a docent.
Bethia knocks shyly on the door that reads in a gold plaque "Mrs. Mary Horton".
Mrs. Horton is a plump grandmotherly type with grey hair and wire glasses.
"Come in, dear...Mr. Simpson told me to expect you. I am Mary Horton, head of Puritan Village."
"It's very nice to meet you. I am Bethia Adams."
"Well, my dear, I hear you are very talented in the skills of the 1640's. How did you acquire your knowledge? Books?"
"No, I learned every thing I know from my mother who learned it from HER mother. These skills are very necessary for survival, aren't they?" Bethia replies.
Mrs. Horton looks puzzled. "Well, yes,,,,in a rudimentary sort of way. But, " she laughs, "One cannot do without a refridgerator and a microwave."

Now it is Bethia's turn to look puzzled. But she feels it is better to keep her mouth shut at this point.
"Well, my dear, " Mrs. Horton bustles about. "Let me take you on a walking tour of the Village. It is an authentic Puritan Village replicated to resemble a settlement on Long Island that the Puritans settled. It is recreating a town called Southold."
Bethia stifles her astonishment. My goodness, she thinks, I shall be right at home. And I'll be the best docent they had! She is starting to get excited.
As they walk through the Village, she sees buildings and homes just like the ones she left last week...was it really only a week ago? It seems like another lifetime.
"And here we have the church, where Reverend Jackson preached. Such a pillar of the congregation, the history books tell us. Such a pious man."
Pious? Bethia thinks. Wasn't he the one who bedded half the widows in the town and then ran off with John Gwinnett's wife Elizabeth? Bethia chokes back a reply on THAT one.
"And here are the stocks....once a woman was put in the stocks for 'unbecoming, lewd and lascivious raiment'. I understand she showed her legs. Forget her name...Rosemary? Rosalind? Oh, well, not important..I'll look it up later!"

Oh, no....that has to be Rosamond! Bethia thinks. She sure is notorious! First she wrecks the monarchy and then she goes down as a local legend.
"And here we have the Gwinnett homestead. His wife was left to fend for herself after John Gwinnett just disappeared. His body was never found...we think he was attacked and devoured by bears. Poor Mrs. Gwinnett....she found comfort and support from her pastor, the good and sainted Reverend Jackson. Then one day Jackson left abruptly and no one saw Mrs. Gwinnett again. Poor woman was as barren as a prairie..quite a reproach in those days!"
Bethia was thinking, yes, POOR Mrs. Gwinnett...I'll bet she played up the widow routine really well, needing all that "comfort" from Rev. Jackson...using John's disappearance as a reason to get "comfort" from the Reverend. Such a timely excuse for her...and all this time I called her a friend.

"And over here, " Mrs. Horton leads her, "is...."
Bethia is about to faint. "Don't tell me...it's the Caleb Adams homestead."
"My dear, you are so well read on your history...one would think you had actually lived it! Would you like to go inside?" Mrs. Horton grabs her hand and leads the way.
Bethia hangs back, memories and fears welling up inside her. "I...I don't know, " she stammers. "Where did the furnishings come from?" Mrs. Horton laughs. Oh, they came from Caleb's brother Joshua's descendants. They generously gave them to us for our Village. They were purchased from an estate sale."
"Estate sale?" Bethia asks?
"Yes, estate sale, yard sale, garage sale, flea market, junk sale, it's all the same, , isn't it?"
Bethia walks over and sees the very bed she shared with Caleb. She shudders violently. She picks up a plate...the very ones she used to serve dinner to Caleb on and the ones he used to throw at her if every thing was not cooked to his liking.
Mrs. Horton grabs her hand. "I think you would be a perfect HOST for this house!"
Bethia's stomach starts to lurch. "Whatever became of the inhabitants of the house?"
"Well, " Mrs. Horton muses. "Caleb was a mean-spirited soul. No one liked him and it is rumored he used to beat and humiliate his wife. Legend had it that it was because she, like Elizabeth Gwinnett, was barren. Her name was...Betina, I think? Anyways, she disappeared, too. Neighbors suspected old Caleb beat her to death and then hid her body in the swamp but it was never proved. Funny thing, though... Caleb married five younger women hoping for an heir, but he never did manage it..guess it wasn't Betina's fault. She wasn't barren....HE WAS!"

It is such a pretty day that Eleanor decides to walk to Central Park.
After all that time locked up in the castle, she would never let another sunny day go by unnoticed.
When Eleanor arrives at the festival site, there are tents and stages as far as the eye can see. Tantalizing smells assault her nostrils...turkey legs, potage in bread bowls, even some divine concoction called....French fries? The only good thing to come out of France, Eleanor sniffs.
"Pardon me, where might I find a Mrs. Susan Connery?" Eleanor asks a man in tunic and tights.
"Over there by the stage, oh toothsome wench, " the man winks, playfully swatting Eleanor on the bum with his sword. Eleanoar turns on him and practically burns a hole through him with her green eyes. He eyes her balefully, "Surely ye would not put a poor peasant in the dungeon, would ye, for appreciating such fine beauty!"
Eleanor softens only a trifle. "Just watch it---royalty has its boundaries!"
"By God, ye have gotten the character and mood of the festival down pat, ye bonny lady!" With that he slapped his thigh and wanders off towards the turkey legs.

Eleanor spies a woman with a harried look and a clipboard, shouting out orders.
"Move that scenery to the left...to the LEFT! LEFT! Are you directionally handicapped?" She turns to Eleanor, "The things I have to put up with! " She extends her hand--"Susan Connery, and who might you be?"
Eleanor shakes her hand, "I am Eleanor of Acquitaine."
Susan smiles. "Ah, already in character, are you? Well, I could use a queen for the Queen's Tea event. Last year's queen got pregnant and moved to Albuquerque!"
"What, pray tell, is the queen's tea?"
"Well, the tea is a little luncheon we have with entertainment, tea, and watercress sandwiches. It costs 10.00 to get in. We even throw in little petit fours for desserts. The little old ladies like it."
Eleanor is astonished. "You actually expect me to sit around and eat lunch with the SERFS? Why, I rode in the Crusades. Birthed four sons with Henry and watched them peck their father to almost the brink of death! I tried to wield the throne away from my lecherous husband and he retaliated by having me locked up in a dungeon so he could carry on with that whore Rosamond and you expect me to eat tea and crumpets with the blue-haired ladies of Manhatten? Uh, I don't THINK so!"
Mrs. Connery narrowed her eyes."Well, what do you expect? You are a woman. I suppose you'd rather be one of the jousters!" With that, Susan Connery turns her back on Eleanor. "Be back at the tent in one hour for tea. Your dress is perfect by the way!"

After wandering around for an hour, Eleanor is back at the Queen's tent at 10:00 A.M. Thirty little old ladies are lined up with their tickets for admission to the tea.
As Eleanor sits down on the throne, she moves uncomfortably. Not even a royal cushion for the royal bum, she fumes! The entertainment is jugglers and jesters.
Eleanor ho-humms her way through that. When the sandwiches are served, Eleanor stands up, throws down her finger sandwich and announced. "What kind of bord de faire is this for a queen? And TEA? Where is the mead? Wine?"
A little old lady exclaimes, "She's right! Ten dollars for a slice of buttered bread with a leaf on it and a scone?"
Murmurs are heard through the crowd. Mrs. Connery hurries over. "What seems to be the matter?" Dozens of society matrons begin complaining.
She turns to Eleanor, "What do you make of this?" Eleanor just turns on her heel. "Let them eat cake!" She leaves the tent just as Mrs. Connery is being pelted with day-old scones and crumpets.
Eleanor wanders over to a serving tent and orders a hot dog and onion rings.
Whatever they are, she thinks. She takes one look at the hot dog and bursts into bawdy laughter. She watches her fellow fair mates and observes them smearing the hot dogs with red goo and yellow goo and green goo.She does the same and bites in.
Divine! She closes her eyes and revels in the taste.
I never knew a dog could taste so good!
She approaches the hot dog vendor. "Pardon me, kind sir, what sort of dogs are these?"
He chuckles. "Lady, you don't want to know...seriously, they are beef dogs,strictly Kosher. "So what is in them?" Eleanor pesists.
The man replies, "Oh, cattle,,,,mostly. Don't want to know what the other stuff is, do you? Just enjoy!" Eleanor eats all her onion rings and sips something called a Mountain Dew. Never have we had food like this. I shall have to tell William, I'll bet he could use these hot dogs on his show. What exquisite meat!

She wipes her mouth daintily and heads over to the jousting tournament.
A man named Ian McLachlin was in a tizzy. His second jouster has broken his arm playing handball and just now shows up to tell him.
Eleanor gets an idea. Enough of crumpets and tea--this is a job I was born to do!
She strides over to McLachlin.
"I couldn't help overhearing. I understand you are short one jouster. I am here to solve your dilemma. I am an excellent horsewoman. I can unseat a man in five minutes."
"Lady', " Ian mops his brow. "I have no time to waste getting into an equal rights woman's movement discussion. Go back to the washtubs and let me think this one out."

Eleanor is about to backhand him but he turns on his heel. "I'm ruined!!" he shouts at his crew.
Eleanor walks by the tent that holds the armors.
Suddenly she gets an idea. She slips in quietly and tries on the armor. Hmmm...must have been a very small squire to wear this. Eleanor puts on all the armor, even the helmet that fits perfectly. She tucks her red hair in it.
McLachlin comes in.
"Thank God Jerry sent another boy out!! Quick...get on that horse!"
Eleanor confidently strides out, and mounts the horse. A fine animal, she thinks....look at all that shiny armor on him. She leans over and pats him.
"Together we shall show this bandy-legged little tosspot what a woman can do, eh?"
The horse seems to understand.
Eleanor is led into the arena.
The stable crew lines her opponent at the other side of the field and a shout is heard. Eleanor picks up her lance and charges. Before two passes are completed, Eleanor's opponent is down on the ground and Eleanor holds her lance at his throat.
"Do you yield?" She demands of him. The crowd roars. Never before had they seen such expertise on the field of competition. "I yield" says the fallen knight.

With that Eleanor withdraws her lance and takes off her helmet. All her red hair spills out. The crowd goes wild, especially the women. McLachlin turns purple and then collapses. Eleanor takes a bow.


John Gwinnett breathes the summer air deeply. Funny--Southold seemed so long ago. He wonders if Elizabeth is happy. He also wonders how he could have been so blind to her attentions to Reverend Jackson. How many times had Jackson been there when he had come home from a day of hunting? More times than I can count, he muses.
Looking at the paper in his hand, John looks up to see an immense sign that reads, "Chippendales of Broadway". He goes in, his eyes having a hard time adjusting to the dimness. He walks over to the bartender. "Excuse me, sir, I am to see the manager about a job. Where might I find him?"
The bartender looks up from his wantads. "Over by the door marked 'Manager'"
He shakes his head. Jeez, these pretty boys sure have no brains! John knocks firmly and with a confidence he does not feel. "Come in!" Behind the manager's desk sits a young woman.
"Hello--I am John Gwinett sent over from the employment agency."
The young woman looks John up and down and up and down and up and down.....
She stands up and extends her hand. "Hello--I am Sheila Douglas. Manager."
John is puzzled. How could a woman be in charge of a skinning operation? And where did they put all the pelts? Could she possibly be a model for the fur coats?

John starts to wonder what he has gotten himself into. Sheila gives him a warm smile. "You are just perfect!! Here---this is yours."
She hands John a G-string. He looks at it, perplexed.
Sheila looks at him admiringly. "Well, John, you will certainly bring down the foxes with that."
John begins to relax. "Yes, ma'am. I brought down many a fox with one of these. But where do I get the rocks to throw?"
"Rocks? Oh, my goodness--looks AND a sense of humor, too!" Rocky will show you where the dressing room is. You start waiting tables in ten minutes!"
Sheila sticks her head out the door and yells, "Hey Rocky!! Got a live one for ya!"
Rocky, a sleazy little man with a pencil thin moustache, hurries over. "Hey, howareya...right this way, stud!"
John's eyes have adjusted to the light by now. He looks over to the stage. There to his amazement is a big, hunky guy wearing....the slingshot?

And the man is,,,,,twitching his body? And what is that green paper stuffed in his slingshot? The music is deafening. He hopes the man doesn't have some sort of spasmodic disease. He hasn't seen anyone twitch like that since old man Sinclair had rabies. Maybe the man was possessed, like those girls in Salem "Excuse me, Mr. Rocky sir, is that man alright?"
"Alright? He's more than alright! That's Sergio Corleone, our top star. He pulls in 1000 g's a day."
John is even more confused. Was the man getting paid to act like a rabid animal?
Rocky shoves John into the cubicle.
John quickly sheds his clothes and puts the "slingshot" on.
No way! There is no way I am wearing a weapon out into this den of sin, he thinks.
Rocky bursts into the changing room. "Yeah, kid, ya look great..the chicks will love ya."
John's head is swimming. Chicks? Are we skinning chickens now?

Rocky pulls him out of the dressing room and hands him a tray.
"Here. Go over to that table and ask those lovely ladies what they will have. And whatever they ask for, give it to 'em. But keep three feet away from them--that's the law! No physical contact!"
John puts the tray in front of his "slingshot". He shyly and reluctantly walks over to a table of five ladies. Now he knows what it is like to be put in the stocks on the public square. "Uh, what will you lovely ladies have." These lovely ladies obviously have been here for quite a while because they are inebriated. "Ohhhh, MY..." they all say in unison. "Fresh merchandise, just off the boat!"

After they have a good laugh, they order another round of drinks. John has it memorized so he doesn't have to put his tray down. He walks over to the bartender and says, "The young ladies at that table will all have another round of gin and tonics."
The bartender, Guido, takes John aside and gives him a word of advice. "If you are going to make any money, I suggest that you put that tray down."
John blanches, "But if I put my tray down, they will see...."
"Trust me, " Guido says.
Guido makes the drinks and loads them onto John's tray.
As John steels himself and his shame, he sets the drinks down in front of each of them. Before he knows it, five pairs of hands have stuffed paper in his "slingshot". He looks down. There must have been at least 25.00 there. That was it? That is all there is to it? Just bring them drinks and let them look at you? I guess I could swallow my pride....but what is this skinning thing? Am I a trapper or what?
As John turns to go, a pair of hands smacks him on the butt and said, "Thanks, stud!"

Rosamond takes the elevator up to the tenth floor of the ABC Network building, Soundstage 34.
Mr. Birnbaum greets her. "Ms. de Clifford. Please report to makeup and wardrobe and we will be ready for you on the set in about an hour.
Rosamond eases herself into a chair. The makeup girl comes hurrying over.
"What lovely skin you have, Ms. de Clifford. So pale and creamy. So what's your beauty secret? Oil of Olay? Estee Lauder?"
"No, " Rosamond confides. "Arsenic."
"Arsenic? ARSENIC? My Lord, girl, are you trying to POISON yourself?"
"Oh, no," Rosamond replies suredly. "You just have to know when to say 'when' ."
The makeup girl shrugs. Deftly she applies eyeshadow, mascara and blush to Rosamond' face. Then she powders and puts blush on her cleavage and chest.
"What are you doing?" Rosamond pulls back.
"Why, I have to get you ready for the camera. You don't want a shiny chest, do you?"
Rosamond is puzzled. Why bother doing makeup THERE?
Rosamond is hussled over to wardrobe. There she is given a black teddy, spike heels, a garter belt and fishnet stockings. For once Rosamond is feeling a little self conscious. But she puts them on and then grabs a big terrycloth robe. Teetering on the five inch heels, she reports for her lines. She is confident that she knows them with no problem. Biff Murdoch is waiting for her to run lines with her. He smiles and introduces himself. Rosamond's breath is taken away. He's very good-looking but in a superficial way. Not like John Gwinnett. John exudes confidence. You feel like John would always be there in a fix.
"Let's run our lines, shall we, Rosamond?"

"Daisy--how can you sell yourself to every man that comes along? Have you no respect for yourself? Does what we have mean nothing to you?" "Dudley, I ask nothing of you and shall not answer to you. What I do is my business, not yours. Besides, I have to make a living somehow." "CUT!" the director yells. "Biff, could you move a little closer to her? Grab her by the arm. I need to see the pain and lust in your eyes!" "Sure, no problem!" Biff grins.

After rehearsal, Rosamond and Biff are ready for taping.
Biff leans over to Rosamond and kisses her passionately. Her teddy straps fall to her shoulders. Rosamond is trying hard to pull them up. "CUT! Sweetheart, what are you trying to do?" the director yells. "Well, Mr. Murdoch keeps pulling them down."
"So what is the problem? Keep the tape rolling. Sweetheart, it's what the average housewife wants to see. Lust! Passion! Greed! Just go with it, darling!"

After lunch, Rosamond is ready to do the last scene with Biff. She strides towards the bed that Biff/Dudley is in.
"If you think I will fall into your trap to make an honest woman of me, Dudley, you are wrong."
Rosamond/Daisy climbs seductively into the the bed on the stage. As she slips into the bed in her black teddy, her eyes get as big as saucers.
For Biff Murdoch is laying in the bed without a stitch on!! Rosamond screams and covers her eyes.
"CUT!!!!!" the director screams.


Part 45: Anyone for some T.G.I.F.? by Coralynn

Biff makes a grab for Rosamond even after the cameras stop rolling.
"I said CUT!" the director repeats, "That means STOP, Biff, stop now!"
Biff releases Rosamond and grins, "Hey, I was just having a little fun with her, that's all. She needs to loosen up."
"Rosamond is the third actress we have had play the part of Daisty, Biff. Surely you remember Margaret, the original Daisy. You recall how you treated her like a whore and ran her off? She lasted 6 months, which was remarkable considering what you put her through!"
Biff grins like a naughty schoolboy.
The director resumes his litany of complaints: "Then last year when you did all but rape Gwendolyn right here on the set, remember that, Biff? Remember how she sued for sexual assault and harrassment and you had to pay her one million and the network had to kick in another million? Are you trying to make these actresses independently wealthy because you can't control yourself? Rosamond has done nothing to warrant your behavior toward her. She is also the best actress we have had play the Daisy role, and Biff, you're FIRED!"

"Why?!" Biff is incredulous. "I was just being myself, the same self I have always been. You didn't object when we used to hit the bars together, remember those days, before you got righteous and married Susan? We were two hound-dogs on the prowl! It was fantastic!"

"I did not drag that kind of behavior to work with me, however, and you did, and still are being a hound-dog on the set with whomever we hire to play Daisy. I am tired of having to replace the actress on a regular basis. The fans are complaining that Daisy starts out a blond, then has brown hair, then dark hair, and on and on. They never know what she's going to look like next because YOU keep sending one actress after the other screaming out into the night!"

The message seems to be getting through to Biff.
"I'll change, Tom. I won't do it anymore," he says as he scrambles to put on his jockey shorts while still in the bed.
"You are fired, Biff, I can't take any more chances. Three times and you're out. Rosmond is going to help me choose a new actor for your part. I know, it has to be done quickly. But we can simply not have Dudley in the storyline for a couple days while Rosamond and I look over the new guys the Agency sends us. Goodbye, Biff, and have a nice life!!" and with that Tom the director walks Biff out the door, Biff hobbling as he struggles into his jeans.

Rosamond has been watching all this with rapt attention.
"I get to choose?" she is overwhelmed. "When?"
"I'll phone the Agency right now and within an hour or so the actors will be arriving, so have some lunch and when you get back we'll start the interviewing process." Tom smiles at her, hoping that she is mollified enough to stay with the TV show. She seems to be happy enough at the prospect of helping pick the new Dudley, so this may turn out well after all.

For lunch, Rosamond decides to wander over to the Renaissance Festival to have the wonderful dogs Eleanor said were served on some kind of bread and were incredibly tasty. She has some low-heeled shoes in a sack so she changes into them and tosses her heels into the bag. She feels really smart because she is learning how to manuever in this city. She feels she is finally beginning to "blend in" as William calls it.

As she nears the tents at the festival she hears a terrific roar toward the back of the place. Running there to see what all the excitement is about, she sees a Knight bending over another Knight who has been toppled from his horse, the victor being cheered like nothing she has ever heard before. This must be the big STAR of the show she heard about, some guy Eleanor mentioned. Rosamond, ever on the prowl for a great-looking guy cannot believe her eyes. THIS Knight has long flowing red hair.
"Oh my goodness...." Rosamond says to herself, "That's Eleanor!! She didn't just make it all up, she is in the jousting events, and she is winning." The crowd is going wild and the cheering seems to go on forever.
"Elllll-le-NOR!" they chant over and over and over. Before Rosamond realizes it, she is chanting along with all the others.

She hears a low, familar voice chanting as well.
"WILLIAM!" she waves at him, "over here!!"
William spies her and ambles over.
"What do you think of our Eleanor?" he asks with some degree of pride.
"I must admit she is one brave lady," Rosamond admits, "But I still don't like her, William."
"What are you doing here, Rosamond? I thought you would be at the studio taping your TV show. Don't tell me you got yourself fired already?"
"NO, it was that Biff idiot who got fired," she replies with satisfaction, "He made an improper pass at me and the director sent him away."
William can't help but laugh, "It must have been very, very improper for you to think so, Rosamond, with your track record!"
She sulks, "I have my standards, William, and I don't appreciate people acting disrespectful toward me. That's one reason I don't like Eleanor. She's disrespectful. I don't care how good she is on a horse." William laughs good naturedly and puts his around around Rosamond's shoulder.
"Let us partake of those dogs she told us of," he suggests.

The hot dogs are so tasty they have three apiece with everything on them, mustard, ketchup, onions, relish, and even a shot of hot sauce. The latter ingredient leaves them fanning their mouths and drinking great quantities of Mountain Dew.
"Gotta get back now, William," she says after gulping down her 2nd huge container of soda, "I'm going to pick out the new actor to play Dudley. You see, they respect my opinion. The director said I was the best actress they ever had. Let Eleanor put that in her pipe and smoke it!" and she walks away feeling every inch a winner herself.

William decides to check in on the Colonial Village and see how Bethiah is faring. They will all be having the weekend free, although some weeks Eleanor, Bethiah and John will be required to show up because there are even bigger crowds on weekends.
As William passes a news-stand, he spies a familiar face looking out at him from the front page of a newspaper. Why, it's Eleanor! There's a picture of her with her hair flowing down, her helmet raised on high, and the other combatant lying flat on the ground.
This must have been taken yesterday, William concludes. The caption under the picture reads "Eleanor of Aquitaine rides again!" For just a moment William panics, thinking that she has really blown her cover this time, then reads on: "the newest sensation at the Renaissance Festival is a jousting champion everyone has dubbed Eleanor of Aquitaine." "Whew," William thinks, "As long as they just think it, but don't know it!"

William takes the subway over to the Colonial Village, and, upon reaching it, is amazed at how authentic it looks, how like Southold it is. It almost gives him an ominous feeling, like Constable Spencer and Rev Jackson may jump out at him from anywhere and try to arrest him again.
He easily spots the house that corresponds with the Adams house, by George, it IS the Adams house. This is getting creepy.
He enters it, and Bethiah is there, dressed in Colonial garb, looking every bit like the woman he first saw back in l640.
"No," she is explaining to a room-full of eager tourists, "We did not have what you call air conditioning in 1640. The only cooling we got was from shade or jumping into a pond if we had one on our property."
There is a general buzz, the words "she really seems to know" and such being picked up by William's sharp hearing.
Many questions much more difficult to answer than the one about a/c are being thrown at Bethiah and she is answering them all to their satisfaction. The tourists are crowding closer to hear her recount how a woman lived almost 360 years ago. They are smiling and nodding their approval.

One short man, rather bald and a bit chubby, stands forward, after the others have moved on to the next stop in their tour of the Village, and hands Bethiah a card. "I am thinking of producing a new version of "The Crucible" off-Broadway," he says, "And you would be perfect for one of the parts. Think it over and contact me if you're interested."
Bethiah looks at him a bit confused, then smiles and looks at the business card.
As the man then leaves the house, she notices William and shows him the card. They both mutter "I wonder who George Costanza is!!" John doesn't have to be at Chippendales till evening, so he pays a visit to the Agency just as the man in charge is phoning people, asking who would like to go over to the As The Planet Turns headquarters and try out for the role of Dudley.
"Oh John," he greets him with relief in his voice, "I have been phoning all over the place and can't seem to find more than two men who are free to audition for the role in that soap opera, and now you walk in like a God-send!"

"Is that the drama that has Daisy the prostitute?" John asks.
"YES," the agent says enthusiastically, "You follow that show??"
"Well, yes and no," John says tentatively. "I know.........."
"Never mind, no time, get over there," the agent gives him the address and hurries him off.

The room used for auditions is large and usually crammed with hopefuls. Today there are just two men there, sitting restlessly, glancing at the door from which they hope someone will emerge and call them in. One is an almost alarmingly tall man with a thatch of blond hair on his head, and the other is small and very thin.
John walks in and sits down on one of the chairs.
Both men glance at him and get a sick look on their faces, as if to say "We don't stand a chance NOW."

Tom and Rosamond enter the room and at sight of John, Rosamond has to stifle a gasp. She tells herself to calm down, don't let Tom catch on that you know him.
"Gentlemen!" Tom begins cheefully, "I am going to have each of you read lines with our Daisy, played by Rosamond Clifford, and see which of you fits the part."
The scripts are handed out.
The extremely tall man is first.
"Daisy," he moans, "You must not work in that brothel, don't you know it makes me feel that you do not love me?" he goes on in a very stilted voice. "You must marry me and have my baby......."
Rosamond reacts without thinking, "I am NOT pregnant, I just made that up!"
Whoops. Wrong time frame. Wrong people.
"I don't see that in the script," the tall man complains to Tom.
"That will be all for now, thank you for coming," he dismisses the man.

The very thin little man is next. He grabs Rosamond around the waist and pulls her forcefully to him,
"Daisy," he almost yells, "You must not work in that brothel, don't you know it makes me think you do not love me?" and with that he he plants a big wet kiss on her lips.
"OH YUCK!!" Rosamond shrieks, "I'm sorry, Tom, but that will never do."
Tom nods his agreement and applicant #2 is sent away.
"That just leaves you, John," Tom tells him trying to sound upbeat, "You look right for the part. Now let's see if you can act."

John holds the script, reads it over for a minute or so, then drops it on the chair and wings it,
"Daisy," his meliflous voice fills the room, "You must not work in that brothel. Don't you know it makes me feel that you do not love me?" and he moves closer to her but does not touch her.
Rosamond is so overcome she flings herself at John, embracing him and smiling like a Bride.
"Excellent," Tom breaks in, "John, you are quite an accomplished actor. You must have done some Shakespeare in the Park, is that right?"
John thinks he might have heard of Shakespeare, but he isn't sure. He does nod yes to this, hoping it isn't a horrible lie, but Tom wants this to be true and he hates to disappoint.
"Now, Rosamond," Tom tells her levelly, "Your enthusiasm is very sweet, but you have to remember that you are Daisy, and she is NOT going to let this man, Dudley, talk her out of her job at Shirley's Haven of Harlots. Remember, you are dead set against marrying Dudley and must resist his blandishments with every inch of your being."

Rosamond looks down and purses her lips, almost pouting.
"Does the story have to go like that?" she asks timidly, "Can't we ask the writers to let her marry Dudley? Look at this man here. Who in her right mind would pass him by to work in a brothel? I mean, seriously, Tom, this man is, what do you call it, HOT?"
"We are going to go with the story as written," Tom says decisively.
Rosamond sighs, then smiles at the thought that she will be working with John five days a week. Ahhhhhhh yes, this is going to be more than fun, this is going to be heaven!

THAT EVENING at dinner, the group of five assembles.
"How did your day go?" William asks, looking around at the others.
"I had a glorius day!" Eleanor announces, "No one can best me in a joust, be he amateur or professional. I even have a fan club now. Did you see my picture in the newspaper?"
The others look surprised, but William tells her that indeed he saw her picture in the paper. "Ah yes," he replies, "a very good picture. They are calling you Eleanor of Aquitaine, and I hope against hope that you are letting them believe that it is just their name for you, not your name for yourself."
"What difference?" she says hautily, "Are you afraid I'll....what do you call it.....blow my cover??"
Bethiah then says, "My day was fine, as you know William. I was so glad to see you there. I still wonder about the chubby man who offered me a job in a play, though. Do you think I should contact him?"
"Think it over, Behiah, as we have a weekend ahead of us to rest, you have time to decide whether or not to look into it. What about you, John, is the dancing around wearing a slingshot, as you called it, becoming less embarrassing?"

"Oh, I don't do that anymore," John announces proudly, "I have a part on the same TV show Rosamond plays in, you know, As The Planet Turns? I'm the new Dudley Chesterton!"
"NO!!" everyone else but Rosamond says in chorus.
"How did you manuever that?" William asks Rosamond, giving her an intense 'don't you remember how I told you not to scamble with John's head' look.
"I had nothing to do with it," Rosamond insists, "The director fired that horrible beast Biff, and somehow," she takes John's arm affectionately, "he came up with John. I could hardly believe my eyes!"
The others roll their eyes in disbelief.
Eleanor then remembers, "Almost forgot, William, how did the visit to Tiffany's to have fittings for your crown turn out?"
"The crown they are fashioning is not as glorious as the one I have at home, and I am dubious about how genuine all the stones or jewels may be, but it is large and it won't give me a headache. I warned them that I will be irate if it looks cheap or if any stones fall out. I think I rather intimidated them over there." and with that he throws his head back and smiles happily.

The weekend is stretching out before them. What adventures await them over the two days they have off? Each in his or her own mind has a vision of the perfect weekend. Can any of them pull it off? In some cases, can they pull it off without being yelled at by William? Hmmmmmmmm.


Part 46: Can you REALLY never go home again? by Terri

The five of them decide to meet at Monk's again for breakfast and try to decide how the weekend is going to shape up. The rain is coming down like it did in London--a fine mist but everything is wet regardless. Eleanor sighs. "Well, the jousting event has been cancelled. My horse is not a mudder so the competition was been called off on account of rain. Seems I heard that last night when those guys on TV, you know the ones who swat at a ball with a stick? Well, seems they couldn't play. What's their name again?"
John pipes in with, "The Yankees--funny name. They were playing the Indians but boy they were as English as I ever saw, except for the dark West Indian men. Where on earth did they ever get mistaken for Indians?" Rosamond is sitting there almost too quiet. William looks over her and says, "What's wrong, Rosie?"
Rosamond bursts into tears. "Uh, oh, " Bethia says, "PMS-ing I would guess. I saw something on it on Lifetime TV." Then Bethia blushes. You did not mention such affllictions in front of men.
Rosamond sniffls, "I just started missing my son Willie. I know we have only been gone two weeks but it seems a lifetime ago." With that she starts wailing again.
William sits with his head in his hands. Rosamond had no more maternal feelings than a cat. Wait till she has another litter--then she will forget Willie for a while. Maybe not, though--Willie may be born on the wrong side of the blanket, but he was Rosamond's key to holding on to her position at court. William looks over at John Gwinnett. I can see trouble brewing there. Rosamond has nothing to gain by bedding with John but she's lonely. A romp would mean almost as much as brushing her teeth to Rosamond. Almost, but not quite. John is very vulnerable now. William sighs and leans back in his chair. If what I am thinking, he thought, I could ruin everything. I kind of like keeping them here in the 21st century to see how they adapt. Maybe...maybe... "Tell you what--it is possible for us to go back for a few days. Would you be willing to come back or would you like to stay in Medieval England?"

Eleanor smiles a genuine smile. "I would like to see how my little eaglets are pecking their father to death. And I'd like to see who is left standing--Henry, John or Richard!"
John seems pleased. "I would like to go back and look up the ancestral home, to see my ancestors, maybe to mingle with them incognito. Find out what makes them tick."
Bethia is a little apprehensive. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Eleanor gives her a hug. "Just stay away from my unholy threesome and you will be fine. And don't worry about Henry. You are way too skinny for him. He likes them buxom--you know, a big butt!"
Rosamond's eyes gleam. "Oh, to see Hen--I mean, Willie again! I'll bet he grew two inches."
William, against his better judgement, concedes. "But I have to make a few rules first. No misbehaving--no cat fights. You will be civil to each other. And when I say it is time to leave, we go."
Let's go over to that part of Central Park called Strawberry Fields.Maybe we will end up in Penny Lane! Hahahahaha!"
No one laughs because they don't get it.
"We must be quick about it. If you want to cram a whole weekend in we must leave now. I have to be in front of the cameras early Monday morning."
Rosamond is already formulating in her mind how she can arouse jealousy in both the hearts of Henry and John Gwinnett. Imagine having lovers in every centuries! A courtesan's dream come true! A well connected lover in Medieval England who can advance me and assure my place in history and a young stud to just enjoy!

As they join hands, the air begins to spin and an aura glows around them.
A few seconds later they all open their eyes. Here they are in the very courtyard of Windsor castle.

Bethia's mouth drops open. John is totally in awe. "So this is where it all began!"
Rosamond is already running across the moat. "Come on! We have so much to tell them!" Eleanor pushes Rosamond aside. "Do you MIND? This is MY castle!"
Rosamond cattily replies, "Yes, well, I know a couple rooms that are exclusively MINE! Why don't you find yourself a nice dungeon to hunker down in, you cow!"
"ENOUGH !" William roars. Already he is beginning to doubt the wisdom of this idiotic adventure. All because of a little tart's tears!
William knocks at the great oak door. A steward opens it and beams. "Why, sire! What a wonderful surprise! And not a moment too soon--things just haven't been the same since your midsummer's eve feast." Then he whispers confidentially, "The other guests are not taking your sudden departure too well. They have been really miserable since you vanished in thin air!"

William smiles jovially, "Yes, well, Malcolm, we are back for a little while. Have to keep our eyes on these blackards, eh?"
The five troop into the great dining area. John is sitting dejectedly at the table flicking peas off his fork and aiming it at Margaret the Saint's whimple. Richard and Henry both have consumed too much claret. Henry VIII is stuffing his face with an entire turkey. Victoria is sitting there pursing her lips disapprovingly and Geoffrey is ready to cuff John on the side of the head. Elizabeth and Mary of Scotland are nowhere to be found.
The silence can be cut with a knife when the visitors arrive.
"My God! " says John. Henry rises from the chair swaying precariously. He gives Rosamond a hard stare.
Henry Tudor stops in midswallow and Richard is beaming to see his mother. Henry Planagenet tries to manage walking in a straight line.
He looks Rosamond dead in the eye. "Well, Rosie--whose bastard is it? Mine or Richard's....or a stableboy's...or a grooms....or a..."
Rosamond goes to strike Henry in the face but he catches her hand in mid-air. "Happy to see you, too, darling."
William grabs John by the scruff of his neck and tosses him out of the chair.
"This happens to be MY chair and as you can see we are back--but just for a little while. We thought we would check up on you."
John smiles an unfriendly smile. "We happen to be getting along quite well without you, William. Does this surprise you?"
"Frankly, yes--you managed to muck up Runnymede, giving in to the barons. By the way, you have secured your place in history."
John is curious. "So how did I fare?"
"How did you fare? I will tell you how history treated you. You come off like a whiny, spoiled bully. Snatching the throne from Richard while he is captive in France."
John goes back to sulking. Eleanor reaches over to embrace both John and Richard.
At least SHE is happy to see her little eaglets.

Henry Tudor is giving Bethia the once-over and is giving her the willies. Then he turns to William and says, "Why could you not bring back a broodmare with a little flesh on her flanks? This one looks like she couldn't even carry a broom, much less a bonny bairn."
William sighs. "I am not your procurer, Henry. I am sure there are plenty of milkmaids and scullery girls to cater to your whims. And wipe your chin, for heaven's sake!"
Henry Tudor wipes his face with the sleeve of his doublet.
John Gwinnett is watching the scene unfold between Rosamond and Henry.
John cannot but help watch the sparks fly between the two of them. He had no idea as to the intensity of feelings and passion between the old lovers.
"Well, Rosie--whose is it? What did the DNA show?"
Eleanor smiles sweetly, "Yes, dearie, what DID it show? And who is the proud papa? Care to divulge us?"
But before Rosamond can answer, Eleanor enlightens the group.
"It seems our dear sweet Rosamond was faking a pregnancy. She didn't want to wind up a mattress cover for Henry."
The silence is deafening. Rosamond tries to muster up all the decorum she can. "Yes, it is true--the thoughts of Henry Tudor made me want to throw up!" Henry's face turns purple, a very unbecoming color for him.
He grabs her by the wrist and yanks her to him,. "Well, if thou are not with child, maybe we should do something about that!" By this time John Gwinnett steps in.
"Please, sire, I think that would be a bad idea. Such an action could land you in the stocks. Unlawful carnal knowledge, you know."
Henry Tudor releases Rosamond's wrist. "Who is this that he thinks he can order us about?" Henry leans towards John. "Shall we show him what happens to those who dare interfere with the pleasures of the king?"
William steps between the two of them. "Henry, this is John--he comes from the New World of which you know nothing. But it is a colony which belongs to a greater England than you would ever know."
"Oh?" Henry mocks. "And who is this great monarch if it is not I?" A pin could drop and be heard in the silence.
William smiles, " The very fruit of your loins, Henry."
Henry smiled with satisfaction. "Ah, I just knew little Edward could do it."
William, still smiling like a comedian with a punchline, delivers the zinger. "No, not Edward---your so-called bastard girl-child, Elizabeth!"

"Who is talking about me and why....oh my goodness, it's you three!"
Elizabeth is dragging Mary of Scotland through the door by her hair. Mary's nose is bleeding and both women are covered with mud. Mary was hoping that was all it was.
Elizabeth only gives a cursory glance at John and Bethia. "So what's the verdict, Rosamond? What did your DNA test reveal?"
Eleanor smiles triumphantly. "Negative."
Elizabeth sneers, "I guess there will be no royal blood in that bastard. Talk about being born on the wrong side of the blanket. No blanket, eh, Rosie? Maybe only straw!"
Rosamond turns crimson. Eleanor is quick with the explanation. "It turns out our resident whore faked it. At least she got a trip out of it!"
Elizabeth claps her hands with glee.
"I love it! Rosamond got one up on dear old dad. Can't say that I blame her--just look at him!"
Henry VIII sits there sullen. "Your mother loved me."
Elizabeth turns on him. "The only thing my mother cared about was being queen. If she found you worthwhile, she would have turned the blanket down so fast your head would spin. You think she held out because she LOVED you? Nay, she saw how her sister Mary was treated. Used and then cast aside to marry William Carey."

Geoffrey steps forward. "Enough of this bickering. I say we have a feast to welcome our weary travelers and their guests."
Henry Plantagenet for the first time takes a good look at John Gwinnett.
Feelings of jealousy are aroused in him. Let's see--Rosamond was gone for two weeks. Definitely some competition there. I must see Rosamond alone and try to determine where we stand, he thought. As the feast is being prepared and served, Geoffrey asks, "So how did you find this NYC? Any experiences you care to relate?"
Eleanor is quick. "Rosamond got herself thrown in the stocks."
Rosamond counters with, "Eleanor ran up a debt that could buy Caerlaverock castle and now William is making us go to work and pay it back."
Eleanor now plays her ace. She turns to Rosamond with a guileless look on her face. "Rosamond, please tell us how you drank too much champagne and ended up as naked as Lady Godiva in a tub of water with yon Mr. Gwinnett."

A hush falls over the room. Henry Plantagenet says in a deadly voice, "Oh, Rosamond, not again!"

Rosamond turns beet red. William sputters, "Rosamond, is this a habit with you?"
Poor John Gwinnett looks humiliated. Rosamond looks defiantly at the group.
"Oh, what of it! Henry and I were out riding and my horse threw me. I landed in a peat bog over by Windsor Woods."
Eleanor decides to turn the conversation to herself. "I got a position jousting at a Renaissance Festival. All those times you thought I was embroidering tapestry, dear Henry, I was out by the stables practicing my jousting. None of your knights have ever unseated me. Now I am paid to joust in front of people who dress like us and drink mead like us. They THINK I pretend to be Eleanor of Acquitaine."

William clears his throat. "John Gwinnett here, a fine upstanding fellow, was the one who delivered us out of the clutches of evil forces. If not for him, the women would have been burned as witches."
Mary of Scotland speaks up, "Where were you when all this happened, William? Could you not take care of them?"
William confesses, "I was stoned."
But they just shook their heads in confusion. Stoned?
Rosamond jumps up. "Well, the purpose of MY visit here, is to see my little Willie. I will go up to the nursery--be back in a jiffy!"
Henry Plantagenet stands up, too. "I must see to the wine cellar. I think a nice Spanish wine would go well with dinner, don't you?"
As Rosamond turns the corner, Henry catches up to her and grabs her by the wrist. "What game are you playing, my little sparrow? I thought I had exclusive rights to your charms. Or were you trying to advance yourself like Anne Boleyn? Need I remind you of what happened to her?" Rosamond wrenches herself free. "Henry, I don't understand where this jealousy is coming from."
Henry leans his face dangerously close to hers. "Explain that John Gwinnett, wench!"
Rosamond smiles charmingly. "Why, Henry, I am the mother of your child. I have been faithful to you...ONLY you, my king!"
Henry relaxes his grip. "See that it stays that way, my dear. Or else you may find your body in one box and your head in another!"
The rest of the feast goes fairly calmly.
After the men indulge in brandy and the women have their petit fours, they decide to retire for the night.
Each is given their own room. William and Gwinnett are at the opposite ends of the hall from the women, Henry P. saw to that.

Meanwhile, down in the dungeon, Henry Tudor is pouring candle wax on a table.
As soon as he has a big enough puddle, he presses William's coin into it, making a perfect impression. Ah, to the goldsmith tomorrow...the trick was getting the coin back in William's pocket without him ever knowing it was gone!

The next morning, all met for breakfast.
Henry Plantagenet inquires, "Well, I have arranged for a hunt. The pheasants are plentiful and if we succeed, I think we will have stuffed pheasant for our supper tonight. I have arranged for our honored guests, William and Mr. Gwinnett to join us. After morning mass in the chapel, we will meet at the stables to mount our steeds and away to the hunt!"
With that, he leaves the room with Richard and John his son. Henry Tudor sits there eating his sixth egg. Gwinnett leans over to William, "What do you make of this?
Last night the man was shooting me dagger looks and now it's all hail fellow well met."
William gazes at the door they departed by. "I don't know, John...I don't know. But knowledge is power and if I were you I would keep low. Henry is expert at the bow and arrow and his passion and possessiveness for Rosamond knows no bounds. He was willing to put his queen aside for her. If not for the sons protecting their mother, I have no doubt Eleanor would be on the receiving end of a strycnine cocktail."

The appointed time had come. William and John Gwinnett made their way to the royal stables.
Henry was saddling up on his giant ebony stallion. "The grooms have your horses ready. We shall hunt in Windsor Woods today." With an aside to John Gwinnett, "Mayhaps we shall see the peat bog that Rosamond slipped in. Or the field of daisies where we.." John Gwinnett looks Henry dead in the eye. "Where I come from we do not shame our women by talking about our triumphs. We love and care for them and not treat them like some woman for hire off the streets."
Henry lets out a burst of laughter. "Not to worry--we all know about Rosamond! Right, Richard? Richard could tell you a thing or two!" Richard just laughs and looks away.
John Gwinnett is beginning to wish he had stayed in New York. Even Southold with the Reverend Jackson was more palatable.
Everyone is saddled up. The bows and arrows are distributed. Henry looks at Gwinnett and grins unfriendly. "Sure you know how to use one of these, man? You just put your bow like this..."
Gwinnett stiffly says, "I am well acquainted with the mechanics of archery, sir. I HAVE read stories about Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham."
With that, John Plantagenet's face turns a mottled purple. Robin of Locksley--his nemesis, his thorn in the side. Richard goes into gales of laughter. "Well, maybe while you are here we shall go to Sherwood Castle and visit old friends. John here can show you the way! He will get a real warm reception there!"
Henry turns to the others. "Ready? To the hunt!" and with that, he spurs his horse towards the copse of trees.
William turns to John Gwinnett. "Watch yourself. I fear an evil moon tonight."
The morning goes by successfully.
The pheasant and rabbit are plentiful. Each man is catching his quota. Gwinnett stealthily parts the bushes and sees a beautiful 10 pt buck drinking by the stream. As he draws back his bow, a bee lands on his arm. Dropping his arrow, he bends to retrieve it. As he does so, an arrow whizzes by his head. Henry Plantagenet gallops up. The look on his face tells John all he needs to know. This was no mere accident. The man meant business. "So sorry, old chum. A stray shot can be deadly in this neck of the woods. All these trees for it to bounce off of...hiding who knows what little secrets. Oh, well, a mistake...you look none the worse for it. Apologies extended, Gwinnett."
With that Gwinnett takes Henry's extended hand. Even though the grip is firm, this man means no good will. He means business...and could the business be eliminating the competition?

The rest of the morning passes without incident. Henry is cordial to John Gwinnett but there is an underlying current of electricity. The two sons Richard and John seem to be wrapped up in their own problems, and fighting with each other., Gwinnett thought. What a nursery that must have been, and I sure felt sorry for their nanny. What did Eleanor say? Like eaglets pecking at their father. More like buzzards except Henry looked far from dead---to the other extreme, the man was the picture of virility and health. Gwinnett is trying to figure out why Henry hated him so. After all, he and Rosamond were just friends. There must be alot more to Rosamond's past than he realized. Now that I am aware of what the man is capable of, I'll not turn my back on him! The hunting party loads up their quarry and saddles up their horses. William leans over to John and asks in a low voice, "How went the day? Any incidents?"

John answers, "I'll tell you later--but I dare not turn my back on Plantagenet for a minute lest I find a dagger hilt in it!" William gives him a knowing look. "You wouldn't be the first!"
Henry looks at the group. "Aye, it was a grand day for the hunt, not too grand for the pheasants, eh? We shall have a fine feast tonight!"
William ponders, "You know, I probably should consult your cook. I know a marvelous recipe for New York cheesecake."
Henry, Richard and John doubl over with laughter. John Plantagenet chokes on his laughter. "Cake? From CHEESE? Next you will be telling me you shred a cow, grill it over an open flame and spread cheese on IT! And I'll bet you even serve it between two slices of bread--I'll wager you even have a special sauce for it, huh, Mr. Big Mack!"

William just smiles to himself--call me Mr. Big Mack, will you. But he just says to John, "Hey that's a good idea--maybe I will take that idea back and run it by the corporates. Maybe even decide to slice potatoes and dip them in grease, then smear them with the sauce that comes when you squash tomatoes."
"Tomatoes?" Richard said. "You mean that fruit that grows at the edge of the garden that is poisonous? You mean people can actually eat that? And live to tell about it?
We just use those things to pelt bad performers at court."
William wonders what would happen if those three ever got to the 21st century.
Hmmmm--could be interesting and a lesson in humility for them. The women were easier. Buy Eleanor a bauble and she was happy. Get Rosamond a hot tub and champagne and she was delirious! Bethia was a sweetheart. Never asked for anything and she is the one you want to do for. Must be due to suffering at the hands of that insufferable Caleb.

Henry spurs his horse, yelling, "Come on---it will take a while to have these cleaned and stuffed. We should get back to the castle and see what awaits there."
Richard leans over to his brother and whispers, "Ahhh--I think we will see fireworks at dinner tonight. Should be interesting!

William comes into the royal kitchen. "You know, I would like to try my hand at cooking some of the dinner."
Mrs. Pomeroy, the cook, is aghast."YOU, sire? Whatever for? You have cooks and servants to do this."
"Nevertheless, put the pheasants in the smokehouse. I will try my hand at something new. Something these English stomachs had never tasted before. I will be back after while to start."
Rosamond has retired to her room after a strenuous romp with her son, little Willie.
Eleanor is closeted with Richard and John, reviewing all they had done to usurp their father. Henry II is in the armor hall, polishing the swords. You never know when you needed a sharp one, he thinks.
John Gwinnett decides he has to get to the bottom of whatever is making Henry hate him so much. Gwinnett figures there wasn't a man alive he has for an enemy and he certainly doesn't relish having Henry for one. The man is deadly.
Quietly he knocks on Rosamond's door. She tentatively opens it, sees that it is Gwinnett and grabs him, pulling him in and closing the door quickly.
"Why, John...what a surprise!"
John looks at her. "Yes, Rosamond, the way you are dressed made me think you were expecting someone...else?"
Rosamond looks down. It wasn't exactly a black teddy, but a white dressing gown adorned with lace. "Oh, this---Willie got chocolate on my dress and I didn't want to get ready for dinner so I thought I would have a lie-down before so I would be rested."
John doesn't know whether to believe her or not.
"Rosamond, I have to ask you---what exactly is your position with Henry?" Rosamond gives a wicked laugh. "Would you like to rephrase that, John?" John blushes, then clarifies himself. "I mean, what is going on? Are you still in love with him...or whatever it is?"

Rosamond waves her hand in the air. "Am I still in love,,,,or lust....with the man? I don't really know. Henry does something to me, I can't explain it. I guess we are what they call combustible chemistry. I am young enough to make him feel things he never felt with Eleanor,,or what he had once and is trying to regain. I don't know how I feel. But then there is little William. And as long as I have that child, Henry's heart belongs to me. As long as I don't stomp on it!"
John pursues the subject. "The man absolutely hates me. Have you lead him to believe there is something more between us?"
Rosamond confesses, "I told him we work very closely together. I think Eleanor telling all of them about the hot tub didn't help. Henry would be jealous of any man who was handsome and virile."
John is flattered. "You really think I am virile? And handsome? My Elizabeth used to think of me as a provider, someone to put food on the table. Now I wonder if most of those nights she was ill was just put on. That she thought of me as more like a brother."

Rosamond leans forward, adjusting her neckline. "Well, I don't think of you as a brother."
John says, "Well, Henry doesn't think of me as a son--which is good, seeing the way he treats them and vice versa. I think he sees me as competition."
Rosamond is feeling comfortable because she is now in her element and at ease with her surroundings. "Should we give him something to be jealous of?"
John puts his hand on the door latch. "I think not, Rosamond...I don't trust the man and would put nothing past him. He is a man not used to losing..and won't accept it. I had better go."
Rosamond opens the door but before he leaves, she puts her arms around his neck and whispers, "It's all politics....and fun, John. Don't forget it. Henry never forgot the politics...and he especially didn't forget the fun!"
With that she kisses him on the lips. John carefully detaches from Rosamond and turns to go.
Rosamond closes the door but she doesn't notice a shadow in the turret. Someone was watching...someone who had been spying on the fact that Rosamond was in a locked room with Gwinnett. Someone with perhaps a score to settle....

That evening, William settles himself down in the grand kitchen of the palace. He has asked for various items that are foreign to the staff but they just happen to have in some form or another.
William whips up a dinner that is not to be believed.
For the Plantagenets have never had a spaghetti dinner before. It is replete with garlic bread and a caesar salad. Henry II brings out the best wine he has for the occasion.
Elizabeth can not get enough and Henry Tudor is on his fifth helping and sixth loaf of garlic bread.
As the wine is flowing freely, the inhibitions of the group are loosening up.
Victoria and Margaret have gone on retreat in the Abbey shortly after the travelers arrive so there was no one to act as their consciences.
Bethia has begged off due to a headache. It is just as well, as she really is too inhibited for this group of bawdy party animals.
A tray has been sent up to her room and she is enjoying the peace and quiet.
Eleanor is wearing an emerald green satin ball gown with silver lace. She has wrangled her emerald earrings from Henry. Rosamond is resplendent in a sky blue silk gown that accentuates her figure. Henry can not take his eyes off her, Eleanor notices. Eleanor is quite put off--after all, Henry is her husband and she has been gone just as long as Rosamond. And I have four of his sons, not just the one like that little pipsqueak William.
Henry leans over to Rosamond and whispers something in her ear. She gives a delicious laugh.
Eleanor seethes. John Plantagenet is enjoying the exchange and Richard is looking darkly at his father. John Gwinnett sits there sipping his wine.
He can not figure out the signals he is getting from Rosamond. She seems a completely different person in this century. Gone is the appealiing innocence.
What has taken its place is a worldy attitude of a woman who knows what she wants and what to use to get it. Rosamond is leaning over the wine goblet, showing her cleavage to its best advantage.
Finally Richard stands up. He has drunk more than his share of the wine and it has given him courage. "Father, I would like to know how it feels to be played for a fool."
Henry jumps out of his chair, flinging it back against the wall. His hand is dangerously on the hilt of his sword. He strides over to Richard and lifts him up by his collar. "What are you talking nonsense about, you spawn of Satan?"
Geoffrey tries to get Richard to settle down but Richard just shrugs off his grandfather.
"Perhaps you would like to hear what I observed today while standing in the turret."
he says through an alcoholic slur. "I observed an exchange between John Gwinnett and your dear concubine. Rosamond told Gwinnett to 'not forget the fun'. So how does it feel to be cuckolded by a woman who isn't even your wife? Do you feel less of a man, father? Do you feel like a washed-up has-been?"

Henry turns to Rosamond. "What is this game you are playing, wench? Hast thou taken another man for a lover? If you have, you both can prepare to die! I will not be made a laughing stock in my own castle and you shall pay the price for your cheating heart!"
Rosamond pales.
John Gwinnett stands up to Henry. "You have it all wrong, sire. Rosamond and I are just friends. I have helped her out of trouble several times."
Richard sneers, "Yes, and helped YOURSELF to what?"
Eleanor sits there mesmerized. Poor William is mentally kicking himself.
Is it to my misfortune I will be stuck with this mess into the 21st century for the rest of my days? he thinks.
Finally Rosamond stands up to Henry. "You have kept me your mistress for the past three years. You have failed to make me an honorable woman. You are afraid to divorce your wife for fear of losing Aquitaine and whatever other holdings you possess due to her dowry. And now here is something I will tell you...If staying around in spite of all this does not prove there is something to our relationship then I don't know what will. After all, there is our child."

Henry is too drunk to really comprehend what she is saying but he knows he wants her.
"Rosamond, I will come to you tonight...just be there for me."
With that he falls flat on his face, passed out. Rosamond puts on her best Olivia Newton-John voice, leans over him, spilling out of her dress and says, "Tell me about it...stud!" Then she turns to John Gwinnett and says, "He'd better shape up 'cause I need a man who will keep me satisfied!"
William groans. I guess Rosamond watched Grease on HBO!
As they leave, Geoffrey and John to pick Henry up off the floor and Richard leaves to go sulk at the stables, William gathers Eleanor, Rosamond and Gwinnett together.
To Eeanor he says, "Please tell Bethia to get here right away." Eleanor leaves and returns with Bethia a few minutes later.
William says, "I fear if we stay any longer, Richard will make more trouble and that we don't need. Let us go while the going is good. We can always return when things calm down. Henry and Richard are so drunk they would never remember this evening."

Thinking the rest were going to bed, Elizabeth Tudor called out, "William----LOVED the dinner. Can I get the recipe for my cook?"
Henry Tudor just belches.
Bethia, William, Rosamond, Eleanor and John Gwinnett hold hands under the starry skies, The air glows and swirls and within a flash, they are gone.
The only thing left behind is Rosamond's handkerchief.

Henry Tudor carefully unfolds the damask cloth in his suite. He holds it close and closes his eyes. The air swirls around and around. When he opens his eyes he expects to be where the rest were--in 2001 New York City.
But he looks around. Lace balconies on townhouses surround him. He is standing in the middle of a dirt road. It is dark and the sound of foreign languages enfold and carress him. What was that? Portuguese? Spanish? Oh, no---not French! It is a full moon that illuminates his way. In the distance, he can hear the tinny sound of a piano in the parlor. He looks up..what had gone wrong?

For Henry Tudor has miscalculated. He is smack in the middle of New Orleans, the year is 1910, and no one knows who he was...or where he was!

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