beneath.
Even returning to the world for one night, once a year, had seemed better than never seeing it again. So sheâd made the choice, and her memories of her life had been leached away so she wouldnât be constantly unhappy as she thought of what sheâd lost. She had never imagined sheâd be sent back to the world with no past, no powers, nothing but vulnerable human flesh.
Then again, hadnât she already been aware that disobedience had consequences?
Well, it could have been worse, because sheâd caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror earlier. Not easy to see much in the dim light, but she hadnât noticed anything hideous or even off-putting in the glass. She knew her long hair was a deep reddish-brown and her eyes the color of shadows, and she certainly couldnât be mistaken for a little girl now. But what good did that do? Justin wasnât so taken with her that heâd keep her in his house indefinitely.
She pressed her hands against her face, feeling the hardness of her cheekbones against her palms. âIf I was sent here for a reason,â she whispered, âif I must stay here and change the course of a lifeâ¦â She almost said, you donât have a choice either , but caught herself. âThen I need help.â
No voice answered her, even in the silence within her mind, but as her hands slipped away from her face, she felt a little better. She didnât think of that as praying, exactly. More like reporting in to a demanding employer who nevertheless would do more for her if she played by the rules than if she cocked a snook.
She got up, retrieved the pillows under the chair and curled up beneath the quilt. She supposed it would grow warm eventually, from her body, but before that could happen she was asleep.
Chapter Two
Who in the world was she?
Justin set his pocket watch and glasses aside, then hung up his clothes only out of long habit, because his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, twelve feet to the right, in the spare bedroom. Thanks to the mirror over the sideboard downstairs, heâd caught a glimpse of her undressing. Well, peeling off a hideous sheet, like a cocoon splitting open to release something all fire-shades and velvet wings.
And he had been completely unable to look away. Whoever she was, Laura Snow hadnât even worn underclothes. Candlelight glinted red on her undone hair, picked out the smooth skin of her arms, and made the shadow between her breasts look even deeper in comparison. If she hadnât picked up the dressing gown and slid her arms into it, he might have continued watching her, mesmerized. Thankfully she hadnât noticed.
Justin closed his eyes and saw her behind his eyelids as vividly as if she were undressing all over again for him, but now he tried to remember if there was any sign of injury on her bodyâwhat heâd seen of it, anyway. No, he didnât think so. He supposed it was possible for a woman to be robbed, stripped to the skin, and dumped by the side of the road to dieâthe ragged greying sheet looked like something a pauper might have been buried inâbut why not simply tell him what had happened to her?
Unless she was afraid of the scandal it would bring to her family.
He got into bed, mulling that over. Impossible to tell where she was fromâher clear sweet voice had no distinctive accent. She was as anonymous as a cat on the doorstep. A pity she refused to trust him, because his line of work had taught him to keep secrets, and now he didnât have any recourse other than to notify the authorities.
He shifted about, trying to make himself comfortable, and it occurred to him that if the constables were not searching for a Miss Laura Snowâor, indeed, any missing woman at allâwhat in the world was he to do with her? He couldnât keep her in the house once the servants returned. They would think she was, wellâ¦
Was she?
For the first time he
Even returning to the world for one night, once a year, had seemed better than never seeing it again. So sheâd made the choice, and her memories of her life had been leached away so she wouldnât be constantly unhappy as she thought of what sheâd lost. She had never imagined sheâd be sent back to the world with no past, no powers, nothing but vulnerable human flesh.
Then again, hadnât she already been aware that disobedience had consequences?
Well, it could have been worse, because sheâd caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror earlier. Not easy to see much in the dim light, but she hadnât noticed anything hideous or even off-putting in the glass. She knew her long hair was a deep reddish-brown and her eyes the color of shadows, and she certainly couldnât be mistaken for a little girl now. But what good did that do? Justin wasnât so taken with her that heâd keep her in his house indefinitely.
She pressed her hands against her face, feeling the hardness of her cheekbones against her palms. âIf I was sent here for a reason,â she whispered, âif I must stay here and change the course of a lifeâ¦â She almost said, you donât have a choice either , but caught herself. âThen I need help.â
No voice answered her, even in the silence within her mind, but as her hands slipped away from her face, she felt a little better. She didnât think of that as praying, exactly. More like reporting in to a demanding employer who nevertheless would do more for her if she played by the rules than if she cocked a snook.
She got up, retrieved the pillows under the chair and curled up beneath the quilt. She supposed it would grow warm eventually, from her body, but before that could happen she was asleep.
Chapter Two
Who in the world was she?
Justin set his pocket watch and glasses aside, then hung up his clothes only out of long habit, because his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, twelve feet to the right, in the spare bedroom. Thanks to the mirror over the sideboard downstairs, heâd caught a glimpse of her undressing. Well, peeling off a hideous sheet, like a cocoon splitting open to release something all fire-shades and velvet wings.
And he had been completely unable to look away. Whoever she was, Laura Snow hadnât even worn underclothes. Candlelight glinted red on her undone hair, picked out the smooth skin of her arms, and made the shadow between her breasts look even deeper in comparison. If she hadnât picked up the dressing gown and slid her arms into it, he might have continued watching her, mesmerized. Thankfully she hadnât noticed.
Justin closed his eyes and saw her behind his eyelids as vividly as if she were undressing all over again for him, but now he tried to remember if there was any sign of injury on her bodyâwhat heâd seen of it, anyway. No, he didnât think so. He supposed it was possible for a woman to be robbed, stripped to the skin, and dumped by the side of the road to dieâthe ragged greying sheet looked like something a pauper might have been buried inâbut why not simply tell him what had happened to her?
Unless she was afraid of the scandal it would bring to her family.
He got into bed, mulling that over. Impossible to tell where she was fromâher clear sweet voice had no distinctive accent. She was as anonymous as a cat on the doorstep. A pity she refused to trust him, because his line of work had taught him to keep secrets, and now he didnât have any recourse other than to notify the authorities.
He shifted about, trying to make himself comfortable, and it occurred to him that if the constables were not searching for a Miss Laura Snowâor, indeed, any missing woman at allâwhat in the world was he to do with her? He couldnât keep her in the house once the servants returned. They would think she was, wellâ¦
Was she?
For the first time he
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