Sir Reginald von Toastingham twirled his moustache as he surveyed the gaggle of pretty women outside the fine Parisian milliners. The ladies were crowding around a display of particularly flamboyant and vibrant hats, giggling and chattering as they vied for the best viewing spots.
There were tall girls and short girls, skinny girls and plump girls. Redheads, brunettes and blondes.
And they were all unchaperoned.
Sir Reginald tugged on his moustache with a smile.
There was an especially delectable French morsel standing a little way away from the others, She was blushing prettily as she bobbed on her feet, craning for a peek at the hat display. Her rich dark hair was twisted up in an elegant knot at the back of her head, held in place by a fine mother-of-pearl clip. Blue eyes sparkled.
Sir Reginald walked up to her, his fingers tight on his finely-carved cane.
“Good morning, Mademoiselle.”
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