The sweet taste of wine warmed her as an embrace comforted her. She leaned forward into folds of velvet. It was Valentine, she knew it. Her heart burst with gratitude. Enclosed in his warmth, she felt wanted for the first time in her life.
She moved her hands and feet, lifted one knee, then another, with caution, in fear of broken bones. “Oh, dear God, I can move!” She wiggled her toes, enjoying the movement, the ability to control her body. “"Tis heavenly!”
Through the curtain of her lashes, blue velvet swam into view, the glitter of topaz that echoed soft candlelight. Sturdy shoulders supported a head of dark blond hair reflecting each candle"s glimmer as it gave off a glow of its own.
But it was not Valentine. “Richard! What … where am I?”
“You are at the home of the earl of Notting
