One-half of Deux Lectrices, writing about the things I read.
“I’m sorry, but his lordship is not at home today.”
That was a lie. Jack could hear it plainly in her voice. This was what the rich did when they didn’t want to see someone.“I’m going to see him.”
“Please leave, sir—”
“Listen, woman,” he growled, stepping up to the mirror so she could see his expression. “Let me in, or I’ll go ’round back and start breaking windows til I get to the right one.”
There was a pause. Then the door opened.
SO tired of this bullshit. Let him do it, then call the police, rob his fucking house blind, and leave him in prison to rot.