The Diamond Pony was good money. Good enough for nice dresses, someone to do her hair, and enough cosmetics to paint on a whole new face. It did not change that she was a small redhead, but it gave enough pause that those outside her family might not immediately assume her fall.

True to her letter, ‘Ruby Sterling’ had a pearl necklace about her neck. She sat primly like a lady, rather than the slouched fishwife Elijah would have seen far more of.

She wasn’t sure about this. She wasn’t sure about anything, really. Much as she wanted Alice’s respect … this sitting and waiting, this thinking of a modest domestic life made her no less nervous than the Pony’s gilded walls.

So, she would give this fellow a chance. Impotent, perhaps, or otherwise infertile. Or maybe possessed of inclinations similar to hers. If he didn’t mind her making her own money, then perhaps it was a deal.