#258540 - Fitzgibbon spurned her, Lucy said, After twenty years as his whore! Twenty years but I am, I stopped as the thought struck me, Am I Fitzgibbon's son? I asked as an image of the rogue appeared in my consciousness, a chancer, drunkard and womaniser known the county over for his scrapes and his excesses. The cook awaited me, she of great cow eyes and great cow udders, Food for the new master, cook if you please! Lady Fitzgibbons ordered and I was presented with a hot meat pie and a tankard of mead that tasted like nectar. No, indeed not, but show me, a trial Lucy, you shall have a sennight to show you are perfection! You evil pig! she snapped and I dodged her flying fist and cast her upon the bed whilst I wriggled from my raiments.
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