Read Online Viridian (The Hundred-Days Series Book 2) by Baird Wells - Free Book Online

attorney.”
            “He was!”
    “He was not.” He rolled his head
towards Olivia, who widened her eyes at his smug expression.
    “He was .” Arms crossed, she
smirked. “I know of him.”
    “Oh.” Well I know a king. Nobody liked a showoff.
    Olivia doubled up laughing and went
back to watching Madame Osipova's amors coming and going through their
tiny carriage window. “I don't know him.”
    “Traitor!” He dug two fingers into
the soft flesh above her hip and pinched until she yelped and slapped him away.
    “It's not my fault you're so easily
taken in!” she said, rubbing her side. Smiling and panting, she fell back against
the brown leather seats. “It's a wonder you've survived in this line of work, major .”
    “I've outlasted your efforts. That's good enough.” He settled farther back and stretched his boot
into the foot well, tapping at her shoe to provoke a smile. She was determined
to harass him today, and he was content to let her.
    “Hmm.” Olivia gave him a last
dubious once-over and turned her attention back out the window. “She stays very
busy.”
    He stifled a laugh at her earnest
observation. “You don't sound impressed by her work ethic.”
    Olivia’s nose wrinkled. “I feel
exhausted for her. Readying yourself for company once an afternoon is trying.
Four or five times? And if you had to fully undress every time?” She
shuddered. “Like Sisyphus.”
    The comparison strained his ribs.
“Is it simply the fuss that you object to, or something else?”
    Her gaze was direct. “You mean the
sex?”
    Her frankness caught him off guard,
though it shouldn't have, knowing Olivia. He nodded, chuckling more at himself
than at her. “Yes, I mean the sex.”
    “Oh.” She waved a hand. “No, not
the act itself.”
    “Then what?”
    “I object to her doing, with
approval and in comparatively palatial settings, what other women must do in
the gutter, shunned. What is the difference? Because she has titled patrons,
nicer lodgings?”
    “I'm not certain I follow.”
    “Prostitutes on the average street
corner can't show their faces at the mercantile to buy a comb. Osipova draws a
crowd of hundreds every time she takes the stage. Both are whores, so what's
the difference? If one woman may do as she pleases with her body, so may all women.” She shrugged. “If she wishes to give a man the use of her body for
coin, and both parties leave satisfied...” Eyebrows lifted and she was silent.
    He had no idea Olivia had any
opinions on the matter, let alone ones so decided, but Ty made a note to
explore the issue again sometime. She was correct, however; their target of the
moment enjoyed all sorts of benefits which her lower-class counterparts did
not.
    Madame Alexandra Osipova, a pretty
golden-haired, doe-eyed Russian ballet dancer, had been Minister Talleyrand's
favorite mistress all winter. By his own accounts he believed their affair an
exclusive one. The man must never have passed along her street or he would
immediately have known better, by a string of rumpled, smiling men.
Talleyrand's ardor might overflow, but his purse did not. Osipova took
advantage of his power and influence, but she was shrewd enough to seek her
income elsewhere.
    During three nights cleverly spent
as back-of-house maid at the opera, Olivia had learned that Osipova's star was
losing its shine. Talleyrand had trusted her with names and information,
sometimes his private correspondence, knowing she would funnel it back to her
Tsar while he stayed above suspicion. Correspondence of particular interest to
him and Olivia, because Talleyrand was Joseph Fouche's adversary.
    If Osipova's sobbing collapse
backstage a few days earlier were to be believed, Talleyrand wished to clear
his things from her little confection of a townhouse and be on his way. Her
conspicuous flirtation with an Austrian prince had left a bad taste in her
lover's mouth.
    She had put Talleyrand off, running
a campaign to change his mind