“Is that how it works,” she remarked as though he’d just explained the intricate mechanisms of a pulley system. She could see how this was a tried and true method for him, having heard a fair amount of gossip about the Dempseys simply by existing in the same room as them at a party. “And so you pick the red herring that suits a narrative you’d like others to see, and take care to hide away what you don’t.” Of course as a performer, she understood. And years ago, she would have wholeheartedly embraced this philosophy. But nowadays, the dictates of her life created higher stakes if things went wrong. “Unfortunately that would never work for me. I have much more at risk,” she admitted, hoping he would not dig into her two little risks at home. It helped slot into place in her mind, though, why he felt wholly comfortable asking for their dance.

The woman took a thoughtful sip of her wine at his goading, eyes taking care to study his broad shoulders as he angled himself on the chair. She considered herself well seduced, and offered him a wry smile. “I reassured them that I’d only met you once prior, briefly at a party hosted for our patrons. It is not so far-fetched to claim that one of them is already obsessed with me.” His words, slipped back to him over the wine glass.

Setting it down carefully then, “I am beginning to think that you are not an inventor at all, but perhaps a barrister of some kind? Do you realize you never answer my questions?” Sophia sniffed, all indignant-like. “Your entire family was present. They find this to be all standard course for you?” That much was perhaps obvious, but the knowledge Sophia really hoped to sink her teeth into came next. “Does your wife know about us?”

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