Directsex live video chat neighbourhood was a touch above him; several touches, really, but he was unconcerned. He didn't want friends in these circles. Old money was usually washed in the blood of innocents; anyone who claimed otherwise was a liar.
"This way. Sir."
Phil almost smiled. The butler had it down to a fine art, that balance between cold servility and outright rudeness, and he wondered if the master of the house was any more approachable.
Probably not.
He followed the flunkey along the panelled corridor and out directsex live video chat a heavy set of glass and gilt doors, into what he supposed some people would call a conservatory. It was more of a winter garden, he thought, blinking at the hothouse temperature and staring round at the lilies and orchids and heavy ferns that grew within the glass walls. Above his head hung a row of cages, filled with tiny songbirds hopping from perch to perch, trilling at one another over the swish of water from live nude video chat fountain in the centre of the room.
"Mr O'Grady, madam," the butler announced, deliberately mispronouncing the name.
"Thank you, Harris. You may go."
Phil turned his attention to the woman seated on the edge of chaise lounge by the coffee table. A tray of tea things lay beside her: fine bone china, a bowl of sugar cubes, a silver tea strainer. Tucked between live nude cam chat cup and the teapot were a pile of letters and a small gilt letter-opener. She was pretending to ignore him, finishing her letter with a studied disregard for good manners, so he carried on looking at her.
She was voluptuous, obviously not one of those women who thought to de-sex themselves by starvation into the waif-like scrawniness so beloved by the previous decade. She wore a soft woollen suit of olive green that live nude webcam sex chat understated elegance; her babe shoes dyed the same shade. Her dark red hair was rolled into a loose pleat at the back of her neck, but one or two strands had escaped and were curling in the heat of the room.
Finally she looked up at him, laying aside her letter to regard him with appraising hazel eyes. She had a feline face, closed and secretive; and Phil felt a young uneasy suddenly as she stared at him, finding himself wondering what she was thinking.
Sophie leaned back slightly against the tiny gold cushions, assessing his worth. The dark charcoal suit was at least two years old, but had clearly been expertly tailored for him, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the sweep directsex live video chat his narrow waist, the length of his legs. |
