onto a wide
tree-lined private road and the glass window fogs in front of my
face.
“ Stop gawking!” Camryn
snaps at me. “You look like some country bumpkin.”
I try, but I can’t help
myself. The Gentlemen’s Ranch is not a ranch at all, but a palace.
From the 13th century if I’m not mistaken. Tall turrets frame a
grey cobblestone castle with wide front steps. The impressive
structure sits on its own island in the middle of northern
California’s Lake Champlin against a picturesque mountain backdrop.
Immaculate gardens and spreading lawns dip down from the palace’s
high vantage point overlooking the lake. An old stone bridge
supported by three sweeping arches beneath the roadway provides the
only access to the island.
It is absolutely stunning.
Fairytale stunning. I can’t believe a place like this exists in the
United States. It belongs in England or France. Anywhere, but
here.
I turn and see Camryn
frantically brushing at the non-existent wrinkles in her skirt and
realize what’s wrong with her. She’s a nervous wreck! My confident
little attorney has more hives than a bee colony. Of course, I
won’t tell her this. I’m still smarting over the time she let me trail a
five foot piece of toilet paper on my heel for over an hour at my
birthday party last year. Karma, baby.
“ Stop fussing!” I yell at
her just to get even. I guess we’re both a little
nervous.
A flush creeps over my
face when I think about the profile and contract I had to fill out.
The Gentlemen’s Ranch is quite thorough in ferreting out the most
intimate details of its guests. The men I meet are going to know
more about me than I know myself.
The limo rambles over the
bridge and I take Cam’s hand. “Relax. This is going to be
fun.” Now, I’m reassuring her? That was
some damn argument.
She simply nods, her neck
getting redder by the minute.
The limo finally comes to
a stop in front of the palace, and a gentleman in some sort of
medieval livery opens the door. He sweeps him arm out in a formal
bow. “Good evening, my ladies. Allow me to welcome you to The
Gentlemen’s Ranch. Please follow me.”
Still holding onto
Camryn’s hand, I step out and follow the butler or groom or royal
servant or whoever he is up the stairs. The inside décor is as
remarkably authentic inside as outside with long medieval tables,
tapestries on the walls, and fireplaces big enough to stand upright
in. Servants in all manner of dress rush throughout the palace with
trays of food or linens.
I realize I’m gawking again and snap my
mouth shut before Camryn has a chance to chastise me.
“ Welcome, ladies.” I turn
to see a woman approach. Her blonde hair is piled atop her head in
artful ringlets, and she’s dressed in a heavy gown with a tight
corset that barely contains her ample breasts. If the woman so much
as blinks, I’m going to get an eyeful. “My name is Sophia, and I am
the Steward of The Gentlemen’s Ranch and will be your attendant
through much of your stay.”
I nod to her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tesh
Morgan and this is Camryn Kennedy.”
Sophia smiles warmly. “Now, if you will come
with me, we can get started.”
“ Started?” I blurt out. “What about our bags? Is it possible
to settle in our rooms first?” I’m thinking I need a little more
time and maybe a glass of champagne or three before I’m anywhere
near ready to get
started .
“ I’m afraid there is no
time for that,” Sophia says, starting away and expecting us to
follow. “You’re the last women to arrive. The party has already
begun and introductions must be made.”
Camryn gives me a what the hell? look and
I swallow back my nerves.
Sophia stops at a door
marked Parlor and
leads us inside. Velvet couches, mirrors, and make-up tables are
scattered throughout the room. I see an area marked with my name
and I wander over to inspect the perfumes and creams. “No time for
dawdling now. Robes are hanging up at each station. Please disrobe
and
tree-lined private road and the glass window fogs in front of my
face.
“ Stop gawking!” Camryn
snaps at me. “You look like some country bumpkin.”
I try, but I can’t help
myself. The Gentlemen’s Ranch is not a ranch at all, but a palace.
From the 13th century if I’m not mistaken. Tall turrets frame a
grey cobblestone castle with wide front steps. The impressive
structure sits on its own island in the middle of northern
California’s Lake Champlin against a picturesque mountain backdrop.
Immaculate gardens and spreading lawns dip down from the palace’s
high vantage point overlooking the lake. An old stone bridge
supported by three sweeping arches beneath the roadway provides the
only access to the island.
It is absolutely stunning.
Fairytale stunning. I can’t believe a place like this exists in the
United States. It belongs in England or France. Anywhere, but
here.
I turn and see Camryn
frantically brushing at the non-existent wrinkles in her skirt and
realize what’s wrong with her. She’s a nervous wreck! My confident
little attorney has more hives than a bee colony. Of course, I
won’t tell her this. I’m still smarting over the time she let me trail a
five foot piece of toilet paper on my heel for over an hour at my
birthday party last year. Karma, baby.
“ Stop fussing!” I yell at
her just to get even. I guess we’re both a little
nervous.
A flush creeps over my
face when I think about the profile and contract I had to fill out.
The Gentlemen’s Ranch is quite thorough in ferreting out the most
intimate details of its guests. The men I meet are going to know
more about me than I know myself.
The limo rambles over the
bridge and I take Cam’s hand. “Relax. This is going to be
fun.” Now, I’m reassuring her? That was
some damn argument.
She simply nods, her neck
getting redder by the minute.
The limo finally comes to
a stop in front of the palace, and a gentleman in some sort of
medieval livery opens the door. He sweeps him arm out in a formal
bow. “Good evening, my ladies. Allow me to welcome you to The
Gentlemen’s Ranch. Please follow me.”
Still holding onto
Camryn’s hand, I step out and follow the butler or groom or royal
servant or whoever he is up the stairs. The inside décor is as
remarkably authentic inside as outside with long medieval tables,
tapestries on the walls, and fireplaces big enough to stand upright
in. Servants in all manner of dress rush throughout the palace with
trays of food or linens.
I realize I’m gawking again and snap my
mouth shut before Camryn has a chance to chastise me.
“ Welcome, ladies.” I turn
to see a woman approach. Her blonde hair is piled atop her head in
artful ringlets, and she’s dressed in a heavy gown with a tight
corset that barely contains her ample breasts. If the woman so much
as blinks, I’m going to get an eyeful. “My name is Sophia, and I am
the Steward of The Gentlemen’s Ranch and will be your attendant
through much of your stay.”
I nod to her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Tesh
Morgan and this is Camryn Kennedy.”
Sophia smiles warmly. “Now, if you will come
with me, we can get started.”
“ Started?” I blurt out. “What about our bags? Is it possible
to settle in our rooms first?” I’m thinking I need a little more
time and maybe a glass of champagne or three before I’m anywhere
near ready to get
started .
“ I’m afraid there is no
time for that,” Sophia says, starting away and expecting us to
follow. “You’re the last women to arrive. The party has already
begun and introductions must be made.”
Camryn gives me a what the hell? look and
I swallow back my nerves.
Sophia stops at a door
marked Parlor and
leads us inside. Velvet couches, mirrors, and make-up tables are
scattered throughout the room. I see an area marked with my name
and I wander over to inspect the perfumes and creams. “No time for
dawdling now. Robes are hanging up at each station. Please disrobe
and
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