The door creaked shut, and his footsteps splashed along the passageway outside. She needed to dress quickly. Breakfast? And ten thousand pounds? Him so agreeable? Too good to be true. What if his next move was the bailiffs? It probably depended on how recognizable that frayed, fuzzy, badly drawn image was of Topaz. Splendor knew it because she knew Topaz well. Familiarity lent recognition. Him now? He'd been sitting directly beneath it. Surely he'd seen it? What if he hadn't? What if he saw it now though?
She tugged on her petticoat and thrust her arms through the sleeves of his coat. Even if she looked as if she'd been hauled through a hedge backward, forward, and as many ways as it was possible to be, she needed to get Topaz away from here now. Anyway, who was going to see her?