Chapter Ten
Lady Helen Montcrieff. Helen sneered at her own reflection in her dressing mirror.
The term lady was a misnomer as far as she was concerned. A lady did not get into the situation she found herself in now. And a lady did not alter the course of a man’s life without his knowledge, as she was about to do.
Taking a long sip from her glass of gin, she swallowed, closing her eyes past the burning sensation the liquor caused in her throat. She set her glass down on the dressing table to let her maid tie the sash of her dress around her waist. “Where are my cigarettes, Gerty?”
“Here, m’lady.” The uniformed maid picked up the silver case and opened it for her.
Helen plucked a cigarette from the case with manicured nails and lit it, taking a long drag. Tobacco was probably not
