The Art of the Corset

Chapter Eleven- The March of Soldiers

Evelynn had now spent two months with the Greydons with lessons of etiquette, class, dancing, proper conversational skills, and ladylike tendencies. But she concocted a classy vision on the outside, but at night, she made a living doing what she knew. But instead of using the act as a way to survive, she did it in a way to gain information. All information that was then given to her in a form of a sweet whisper after the heat of passion. But as each caller left, she found she never felt satisfied. Almost dirty. She realized she was now becoming like Belladoux-a thought that did not sit well with the young temptress.

A knock on her door surprised her as she thought one of her lovers must have been coming after her for another romp. Out of exhaustion and frustration, she tied her robe tight and threw open the door to be thrown against the wall with a hard clasp around her neck. She dug her nails into his skin but found it to be of no use. Luckily, a soldier was walking by and saw the woman in distress and used the butt of his gun to knock the man out. As the soldier and Eve's eyes met, she became a bashful young girl-with sudden chase thoughts.

"Evenlynn...Thank you." She said extending her hand for a formal introduction.

"Ezra. Are you alright my lady?"

"Yes, I am now-thank you. Would you mind escorting his body elsewhere?"

"Of course. My apologies. It frustrates me as I see men wicked with drink believe they are invincible."

"Yes, I particularly despise alcohol."

"Oh. So I see asking you for a drink is out of the question?"

"Yes. But asking me for a date is not."

He gave a boyish smirk before asking her to meet him in a nearby field for a walk along the trees and she graciously agreed. Unknowing to her, eyes were watching their romantic encounter...