Now, seventeenth or eighteenth century French history was hardly her strong suit, but she had to admit she was tempted to find herself a volume on the subject to brush up. Or, she supposed, she could always just hear it from a primary source. Now that sounded like a plan. She did love a good brush up...of knowledge, that was.

How shocked Aunt Prudence would be. Leather-clad fingers and palm settled in what was altogether innocent enough (at least by Phryne's own standards) but an action that would surely send her aunt into palpitations had she known. It earned him a smile from Phryne, as Aunt Pru was not around to interrupt and put a damper on things. Really, there was no harm in it. No more than her fingers drumming an abbreviated light against the hard leather under her touch. "I'm sure we could fix that," she said, burying a fraction of the amusement the site of him mouthing that last word as if it were an unfamiliar taste on his tongue.

"I do love a good story. The louder and more colorful the better."