Given his introduction, she had already expected that he would not shake the hand she held out to him, but she could hardly complain at the courtly gesture he gave instead. The truth was that while she did not know whether his words were meant as part of a role of the evening or a slice of the impossible truth the hotel seemed to have in spades, it was no difficult decision to play along with it either way.

With that voice of his he could read to her from a temperance pamphlet and she'd still listen. Likely while sipping a glass of something in exact opposition to the text, but listening all the same.

"For like minded women," she told him, wiggling her fingers slightly in his loose grip in a small show of amusement. "Why stay locked up with our stitching when there are mountains to climb, races to be had?" Her brows lifted at the answer he gave, her smile only paused for a mouthful of her champagne before she said, "Quite the romantic concept, a Musketeer. I do admit I'm intrigued. Is it all swordfights and damsels in distress as they say?"