Let it never be said that the Honourable Phryne Fisher missed the opportunity to appreciate the view in watching a man walk away. Better still that he had left her with a half smile pulling at her lips and the darkness of his eyes at that last look adding a speed to her fingers as she bent to retrieve her heels from where they'd been abandoned beneath the table.

It was an easy enough thing to slip her feet back into them and tighten their delicate straps. As it was to collect their glasses in one hand and make her way toward the door, catching Porthos once he had appropriated them another bottle. There she smiled at him and slipped her arm into his to lead him off toward her room and away from the chatter and buzz of the masquerade soon left behind them.

Had any been looking for either of them, the last that would've been seen of them was of her slow smile as she let them through the door, her arms wrapping around his throat as she pulled him in after her and let the door click shut behind them.