The Demon
Just a mask, I thought.
You would have to be pretty remarkable to rise from the ranks of prostitutes to a brothel owner. I saw that in her sharp eyes, the quick movement of her eyebrows, the quiet tone she used to order the servants around. With us, she acted in a completely different way.
“Viscount...”
“Mistress Eliza. Glad to see you.”
Rene was suave as hell.
I had to hold back laughter after he kissed the madam’s hand. A court toady would kiss the hand of a princess, or even Abigail herself, with the same exact face.
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