Vidal hurried to the library, where Geoffrey and Julia sat drinking tea and chatting in hushed undertones.
“She refused the surgery,” he blurted. “I hardly know what to say to her. I feel so terrible about all of this.”
“Let me talk to her,” Julia offered, “I think she needs a woman right now.”
Vidal nodded.
Julia walked quickly up the stairs to the lady’s chamber. Her friend sat looking out the window, slow tears running down her cheeks.
“Rosalinda?”
“Sí?” the girl more sobbed than said.
Julia’s heart clenched, but she made herself remain calm. “May I come in and talk to you?”
“If you must. I won’t change my mind.” Trembling lips undermined the stubborn set of Rosalind’s face.
“And why not? What do you hope to accomplish by refusing?” Julia demanded, using the kind of hard words
