"Oh, you might still be disappointed," Laurent assures him, honeyed voice laced with ice. "Or you should have specified. I'm the one they refer to as the cast-iron bitch, and I have no intention of being docile and entertaining for you. Not that you would have fared much better with my brother. He would have been more inclined to hunt the savage beast."

He added a lump of sugar to his coffee with the delicate tongs provided, and poured a swirl of cream, stirring delicately. "You ought to be a better bargainer. A small handful of these jewels would put a serving girl's family in luxury for a generation, and it would certainly buy you one who would be willing to play the harp and dance for your entertainment."