S E L E N A FINCH location: brook's club for 'gentlemen' status: closed with @mxchinationfm
the silhouette of a less than reputable building stood starkly on the cobbled street while civilians displaying various levels of tepid idling milled in the general proximity. how oxymoronic was a gentleman's club? apparently, it was not a place suitable for ladies. nell strode through the door. a handful of patrons turned a bewildered eye at the entrance, but their hushed tittering did not give her reason to pause. the devil himself, lysander digby, stood next to the bar. what started as a vague mistrust had evolved to annoyance, but since whistledown's revelation, he had been elevated into a problem. "nice little castle, little prince." a snide lip curled from her teeth and revealed the depth of distinct distaste for this ordeal. eyes, quick and bright as lighting, bolted to every notable detail in the liquor-laden, smoke-stained den. it was not very busy at this time of day. good. he had the free time. "I need a word."