His broad shoulders bespoke of a man of means, and his large blue eyes, a man of diligence. The Lord of the House had hired him on the spot and he was...thankful. The war had been hard on his hometown and many of the tradesman had taken to the roads in the years following to get work. A whorehouse wasn’t orchard pickings, but it meant survival. It was all he could hope for. ‘Here is your room.’ She reached into her sleeve. ‘This is the key.’ He glanced over his shoulder. The door was nowhere to. I hurriedly finished my bath and dried off. I picked out a beautiful sea foam green dress. It fell mid-thigh in length and had thin straps, just thick enough to conceal my bra straps underneath. I paired it with white wedge sandals that had ribbons that tied up around my ankles. My long, straight, jet black hair was left to fall loosely over my shoulders and down my back. A bit of mascara and light pink lip gloss and I was ready. I once again programmed in an address on the GPS, this time. More

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