\"You know what I like about guys, certain guys?\" Lucy looked in her direction again. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. An hour later the doctor arrived; and after a thorough examination, he looked doubtful. “I mean to go to that dance! I meant to reason with you, but you won’t reason. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. “Well, look who’s here! Welcome, Lucy, I heard the performance was spectacular. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had met before. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century.
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