The lamplight guttered in the damp alleyway, but still she followed its weak beam. At the last possible moment, she checked the address that’d been delivered to her by a courier this morning. It was at the end of this alley, and she steeled herself, wondering what she’d find.
She picked her way over puddles and cobblestones, and tried not to jump when he whispered in her ear. ”Dressed perfectly, love.”
She turned to face him and ran her tongue over her lips. “I always do.” Victorian Bustle Skirt. To be worn only by women who know exactly what they’re doing, all the time.