Something cold and moist touched Charlisse's forehead. The sensation radiated through her mind, prying open the doors of slumber. Wood creaked and satin swished. A bright light darted across her eyelids, taunting her to open them. She didn't want to open them. She feared if she did, the ache in her abdomen would only increase. A moan escaped her lips. Another rustle of satin, and then a soft hand enfolded hers. Charlisse cracked one eye to see Isabel's concerned face leaning over her.
Taking the cool cloth from Charlisse's head, Isabel dabbed it on her cheeks. "How do you feel, Lady Hyde?"
"Plea … please call me Charlisse."
Isabel gave a weak smile, then placed the cloth on a table and grabbed a pitcher. "You must be thirsty." She poured liquid into a mug and reached behind Charlisse to help her sit.