CHAPTER 6
Sunlight streamed through the window when Rosalind awoke, a luxury she had not experienced in years. Vidal had gone, of course. He would preserve her reputation at any cost.
She stretched, wincing as her sore muscles protested, climbed n***d out of bed and shuffled across creaking floorboards to the vanity table to splash cold water on her face. She looked at herself in her mirror, pleased to see her injuries appeared minor. Her lip was dark and puffy where Charles’ ring cut into it, and an ugly yellow bruise marred her left eye, but that seemed to be the extent of the damage. In other places, she could see the marks of Vidal’s beard where it had scratched her skin. She grinned.
She quickly pulled on her oldest work dress, ignoring her corset. I don’t need it to make the dress
