*Rosalind*
Sitting in the well-sprung coach, I'm not quite sure I trust Riverdale’s words or his smile. "I know you're angry."
"Angry does not even begin to describe my fury at being duped. Although I can hardly complain. I initially lent you the money to keep you near. Now you shall be all the nearer."
He crosses over to my bench, crowding me, but I refuse to be cowed. I meet his gaze head-on.
"I ought to put you over my knee, hike up your skirts, and give your bare backside a sound thrashing," he grounds out.
"I believe you'll find our time together more pleasant if I'm willing, which I won't be if you're going to cast out threats of bodily harm. I know you won't see them through and it will merely serve to irritate me that you would think I would be intimidated by such poppycock."
