Men bent on rapine did not employ aged women with consciences. Here also obviously was a place located firmly on the moral high ground-that look from the housekeeper proved it-so she needn’t fear her wolfish interlocutor, either. Liza’s reputation had preceded her here-wherever here might be.
The narrow look she cast Liza before leaving also felt familiar. The woman looked vaguely familiar-a face from the village, perhaps. Only then did she see the tall, well-padded woman hovering in the doorway-a housekeeper, judging by the key ring tied to her apron. When he nodded and turned away, she pushed herself up by one elbow. Who was he? “Have you any water?” she whispered. Swallowing nervously, she became aware of a tremendous thirst. He had tremendously bold cheekbones, and a nose like the prow of a ship. Without the smile, his angular face became severe. “Sleeping Beauty awakes,” he murmured, and then his smile disappeared, as though his own words displeased him. His carnivorous mouth offered her a slow, unsettling smile.įear flashed through her. The man standing over her looked like a wolf in the lean season: hollow cheeks, dark hair, burning eyes. She opened her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. A pleasant voice, not loud enough to antagonize her aching head a smoky, low, male voice. Already she felt humiliation crawling under her skin, anticipatory, ready to sink in claws.
It would be very mortifying, she felt sure this felt like a two-bottle headache, and one did not drink two bottles unless the need was great. Breath held, body tense, she waited for the memory of whatever had happened to give her such a terrible headache. Liza kept her eyes closed, though consciousness stole in with unmerciful speed, scraping like a knife over the wooden lump of her wits. and a society beauty whose famous smile hides a loneliness she can never reveal.
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