<div class="floatleft">(http://i46.photobucket.com/albums/f142/capwilly1/Westinghouse/Tori_avi.jpg)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lady Victoria Stuart</span></span> </strong><br/><strong>Current Location:</strong>In a Coach on the Road<br/><strong>With:</strong>Claude Moreau<br/><br/>Victoria awoke with a squeal as a large bump in the road jolted the coach and caused her head to bounce against the wall of the coach with a definite thump.  The sharp pain causing her to see stars, she squeezed her eyes closed and delicately rubbed her head with her fingers.  Although the pain quickly eased down to a dull ache, it was a few moments before she opened her eyes and an additional moment before she could focus enough to see clearly.<br/><br/>What she saw did not please her.<br/><br/>The leering stranger held her book open to the dedication page.  It angered her that he might have read the personal message Joseph Carstairs’ inscribed to her.  Even if the words he wrote were now meaningless to her, they once meant everything in the world.  She was appalled by the idea that they had been shared with a stranger.<br/><br/>“Sir, my book, if you please.”  Her voice was soft and husky but she used the neutral, commanding tone that she usually saved for the reluctant children in her care.  Leaning forward, she extended her hand so he could return the book to her possession but a wave of dizziness struck her with such force that she had no choice but fall back onto her seat or risk disgracing herself.<br/><br/>"Oh dear." she murmured helplessly as the world spun before her eyes.<br/>