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Scandal: Chapter Seven - navessa allen
I managed to keep myself pulled together until the door of my sitting room was firmly closed behind me, though I had no idea what it was I said in response to the maid who had greeted me in passing along the way. Judging by the confused look on her face afterward, nothing comprehensible. The room spread out before me was awash with in tawny shades of ocher thrown by the fire that danced in the hearth. Though it was well illuminated, I could barely make out the familiar shapes of the furniture, so caught up was I in what had just taken place that I was like a blind woman, forced to use my hands to navigate. I made it through the connecting door that led to my bedroom without incident, and when I saw that I was alone, I locked it behind me and immediately started toward my bed. Halfway there I tripped over a footstool. A squawk that would have made a goose proud burst from my lips as I went down in an ungracious sprawl across the Aubusson carpet. At least it was a soft landing. I burrowed my fingers into the thick rug as I …