James
Charlotte is in stitches, wagging a finger at Michael. “Oh, the look on your face.”
“What's going on?”
He looks bemused. “You are sure about this? I’ll ask you again, now, while it’s just us.”
“Yes, I'm sure. It's fine. It was worth it just to see your face.”
“Charlotte? Michael? What's happening?”
Michael flushes brilliant red. “Charlotte has something to tell you.”
Her face swings gaping to his, then she cracks out laughing again
She’s not pregnant?
“Charlotte, are you…. You’re not….” I nod down to the general area of her midriff. Her face goes slack, quite blank for a moment, then she curls up with laughter again, giggling helplessly. After a good minute of unfettered mirth, she gets the words out. “No, Master, I’m not.”
She's not a giggler….
One of her virtues….
“So?”
