Hidden behind it, though, she recognized a sliver of respect. Her spine straightened in a semblance of its usual confidence, and she looked fully upon...the god whose eye she had apparently caught. “No?” An eyebrow rose and his head ducked down. “Definitely not,” he growled low in his throat, and Moira’s body tingled in anticipation. Breathlessly, Moira braved, “What am I then, my Lord?” He crowded in on her, forcing Moira to back away until her thighs ran up against the back of a low couch.. "Whatever could this be?" she mused as she inhaled again. Taking the handkerchief to the window, she examined it in the early morning sunlight. Touching the moisture made her fingertip shine with a clear but oily sheen. The maid's heart thumped as something Cook's daughter had once told her sprang to mind. The maid whispered to herself in sudden and complete understanding. "Miss Amanda abused herself, like the way boys do when they aren't married!"The lump had been just as big as life this. More

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