Robert paused, a frown curving his lips as he turned back. “Which window?”

“I should come with ye. I—”

“You’re not coming with me, Bet. I’ve enough to worry about without worrying over you. Now which window?”

“There,” Mrs. Morgan said and took a step back to look her over with satisfaction.

Nodding, she pronounced, “You look perfect. He should be very pleased.”

“Who?” Lisa asked and frowned at the garbled sound to the word. Mrs. Morgan had been pushing some sort of beverage on her the entire time while seeing her bathed, powdered and dressed in . . . well, what was really the most comfortable gown. It felt feather light and airy, allowing the smallest draft to make its way through and caress her skin. It was as close to wearing nothing at all as she’d ever experienced and left her feeling rather . . . well . . . odd, really.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Mrs. Morgan said with a laugh and led her to the bed. “I’m surprised he feels he needs this to get your attention. Most girls would throw themselves at him. Although, my girls say he can be a bit rough, but you may come to enjoy it. A little rough can sometimes be a pleasure.”

Lisa grunted for answer. She wasn’t really sure what the woman was talking about. Attractive sounded nice to her fuzzy mind, but the being a bit rough part . . . well, she suspected she should be a bit alarmed, but her mind didn’t appear capable of it at the moment. Instead, she was struggling with a rather odd desire to giggle.

What the devil had been in those drinks they’d been pushing on her?

“Now you sit here. He should be here soon to see you and then your new life will start.”

“Why are you doing this? I thought you were my friend,” Lisa said plaintively, or hoped she did. It didn’t sound quite right coming out of her mouth. It felt like she was talking around a mouthful of marbles. But Mrs. Morgan seemed to understand her words.