"Aaaah." Leah’s aching muscles relaxed as she sank into the hot water. Never had anything felt so good than this 15th century padded tub.
The ordeal at Rochester Castle was her second brush with death. If they hadn’t commandeered a horse from the nearby George Inn, they might not have made it back to safety at Crossborough Hall. "Poor lady, what you went through," Jane cooed, rubbing Leah"s back with a muslin washcloth as good as any loofah. "Do you and Lord Radcliffe still plan a church wedding?"
Leah laughed. "Well, it"s not going to be tomorrow, and I"ll do it the old-fashioned way, I"ll walk to the church!"
Once again, she pondered her destiny—to change history, to rescue the man she was falling in love with.
One thing she dreaded: his reaction upon discovering her true identity. H
