He watched her quietly in her speech, though the corner of his mouth quirked when she couldn’t finish her sentence. He didn’t know a thing about her, but he had eyes: she was a beautiful woman, unaccompanied, in this vicious English land. At the very least, she had spirit.

“It’s a silly concept,” he said, with an amused look. “Ropati Fa’afili,” he introduced. “I’d say you could be walking away with a lot of wine and a little less coin is what.”

He slid forward a mid-ranged bottle, for she certainly looked like she could afford it, and gave her a price … less than he’d usually charge someone so well dressed.