"I've the Bridewell account to settle. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. “It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. And if I cared to have him come every day, why shouldn’t he? I find him very amusing and very useful as well. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. .
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