Free Elizabeth the First Wife by Lian Dolan Page B

a few more details about the housesitter. “So who’s Rafa?”
    I was pretty sure he was the guy I’d had some disturbing eye contact with on my way into the party. I didn’t want to let on that I’d noticed Mr. Blue Suit, or Bumble would have a field day.
    Instead, she filled in the blanks with her Wikipedia-like recall, “He was here with Ted earlier, but they left for another event. Let me see, what can I tell you? Late thirties. Very smart, policy-savvy, good social skills. From the Antelope Valley here in California, fifth-generation farming family, they grow plants or trees or something. Ag not really his thing, so Rafa went to Georgetown, poli sci. Worked for both state and national candidates before he and Ted connected at a conference last year. Good match. Rafa gets California, which is not easy to do.”
    I had to ask, “Will his whole family be living in my house?”
    â€œHe’s single, no time for relationships, but he’s constantly fighting off the advances of ambitious young women who want to work on the Hill. Or so he claims. I’m not sure he fights them all off.”
    An ambitious Republican go-getter with an active social life? Rafa and I had nothing in common. Still, it was Bumble, and I couldn’t refuse. “You know, for someone who didn’t want me to go to Ashland, you’re certainly capitalizing on my absence.”
    â€œFarmer’s son. Your garden will never look better,” Bumble promised, as she went off to find Maddie and head home.
    Just then, FX and Candy circled around to our part of the grotto. Clearly, the two of them had enjoyed themselves, as they were talkingand laughing easily. Dear God, don’t let Candy have heard us talking about Ted’s political aspirations . Not to worry, as Candy unwrapped her arm from FX’s and announced, “Well, Elizabeth, I can see why you married him, and I can guess why you divorced him. How very sophisticated to work together again after all these years. I work with one of my exes, but he’s a gay real estate agent, so it’s not quite the same.” Candy gave the international sign for kisses to all, turning FX back over to my custody. “He’s all yours. Again. Keep me in the loop with the Shakespeare thing.”
    FX turned to me and made a slight bow. “Have I fulfilled all your requirements for the evening? Or do I need to make one more turn about the grounds to satisfy the locals?”
    â€œWe’re done here. Let’s go home.” I blushed. “I mean, you go to your home and I’ll go to mine.”
    â€œI figured, Elizabeth,” he said, taking my arm and leading the way to our waiting chauffeur-driven Prius. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
    No, it wasn’t.

Elizabethean Fashion
Dos & Don’ts for the
Modern Woman

DO: Neck Ruffle
DON’T: Petticoats
    Neck ruffles can hide everything from aging to hickeys. Petticoats, however, only make your hips look bigger. And no one, except Keira Knightley, needs her hips to look bigger.

DO: Oversized Sleeves with Pockets
DON’T: Chain Girdle
    Yes please (!) to tucking your cell phone or tablet right into your sleeve. How handy. But no thanks to weighty undergarments that will only hold you up in airport security.

DO: Embroidery
DON’T: Fur
    Stitchery over sable. Think gold and lush for just the right touch of luxe, not soft and furry, because that’s just asking for trouble from PETA.

CHAPTER 6
    â€œI’m Rafa.”
    And I am standing at my front door in my bathrobe and it’s nearly noon , I thought, but chose not to say it out loud. My body reacted with third-degree panic, but my face must have registered nothing, because Mr. Blue Suit, in yet another fantastic blue suit, felt the need to amend his earlier statement. “I work for Ted. Bumble said I should check out the place to see if it works for the campaign. She said she’d call