“Harder, too. Valoree grimaced as it crashed over another bump and gingerly raised a hand to her head. Her discomfort did not go unnoticed. “Are you ill? You look quite pale,” the old woman across from her asked with feigned sympathy. Valoree’s eyes snapped to her “aunt.” “If I am looking ill, it is because every part of my scalp is on fire.” The woman had swept her hair up in a towering coiffure and piled it on her head. “And by the way, I am not foolish enough to think that ladies go through t...hat kind of pain every time they put their hair up—so if you try another trick like that, I’ll have you whipped. And keep your mouth shut while we are in this meeting. The last thing I need is for this Whister fellow to figure out you are an old prostitute.” Meg stiffened, then colored at the insult. Valoree felt a moment’s regret, but it was brief. She had too many worries and too little time to be overly concerned with anyone’s hurt feelings. Her entire crew, and now this woman, were dependent on her for both a home and a new way of life.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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