Alden and her object lesson of how she could cripple him with just a finger’s poke. Fortunately, the ache at his side had dulled, no thanks to Mrs. The swelling at his brow and lip had gone down, but the cuts were still painful to the touch. His arms and legs moved less like immobile lead now and more like wobbly wooden beams. Rubbing his hands over his face, he felt better than he had the last time he woke. Something told him he wouldn’t be the first man to fall at her feet. Yet it was a decided improvement over the last time he rose from bed, when he’d confronted Grace Alden and nearly ended up on the floor. He stood steadier on his feet now, although his legs still trembled beneath him. Ross winced at the pounding headache behind his eyes as he shoved himself out of bed with a soft groan.
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