The Lass Wore Black
“What day was it? What time was it? What had she dreamed?She stretched, feeling better than she could remember for a long time. Her breasts felt full, and between her legs there was an unaccustomed ache.It wasn’t a dream, though, was it?Mark had left hours ago. She’d sat up, watched him dress, then reached into the drawer of her bedside table.“Your payment,” she’d said, handing him a small drawstring bag.He’d looked as if he wanted to speak, but he only nodded, taking the bag from her and tuckin...g it into his jacket.After he left, closing the door of her sitting room, she’d removed her veil, put on her nightgown, and dozed for a while.Now she sat up, feeling the chilled air on her face. These moments after first waking were always the most liberated of her day. For these precious minutes, she needn’t don her veil and could pretend the accident hadn’t happened, that she wasn’t scarred, but the Catriona she’d always been.The room was cold, the fire only a few orange and gray coals.MoreLess
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