'What do you know of him?' asked Constance curiously. Milady took out a glass nail file and started shaping her already perfect nails. She shrugged.

'His family are minor nobility. He was the youngest son and stood to inherit little. He took off on his own after his mother died and does as he wishes.'

'Why?'

'He's not made for respectable society it seems.'

Constance's eyes asked the same question. Milady met them and answered shortly. 'His mother's origin was somewhat confusing. There was a possibility that she was illegitimate, but it could not be proved. She was the second wife and Rochefort was her only child, making him half brother to his siblings. It was enough to consider him inappropriate to play lord of the manor. Rochefort wouldn't wait around to be continually snubbed and he's been living as he pleases ever since.'

'How long for?'

'A few years.'

'And if he is in some way illegitimate?'

'Does it matter? It isn't detrimental to his person in the least. He's not a criminal just by way of his birth.'

Constance turned this over in her mind. He seemed like a gentleman to her. But what did she know of outlaws? She was the only daughter of loving parents, carefully sheltered and raised to be the perfect wife. She knew nothing of the shady heart of this underworld, how it could nurture hate and greed as tenderly as a baby in its cradle. Criminals came from the underclass, everyone knew that. She hadn't realised that people from the respectable classes could descend to this level. Bit by bit her innocence was being stripped away and she next posed a question that she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer to, partly because she didn't want Rochefort to be the man she didn't see him as.

'What is he like? As a person?'

Milady wasn't surprised at the question; she could see that Constance wasn't the timid thing she initially seemed to be.

'As you might have noticed, he tends to be reserved and quiet. One of those people where you don't always know what they're thinking.' Much like Milady, thought Constance. In the time she'd spent here, Milady was the most mysterious person she'd ever met. Rochefort she thought was more straightforward. But at Milady's words struck doubt in her heart. Was he really as uncomplicated?

'And?'

Milady smiled at her. 'And he likes fine red wine and pretty women. That is all you need to know.'

Constance realised that she was being complimented in a way. Rochefort was protecting her, was he not? He must have thought she was worth it, at least for her face. She planned to ask a few more questions but kept it for later. She wanted to know the characters of her captors. Taking up an unfinished sampler, she began to embroider, trying to take her mind off her imprisonment.