Secret Ways

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Her name was Vermillion. It came from the Old French, a color, a bright Chinese red; cinnabar, some called it.

Vermillion. The word conjured sultry, mysterious images. Hot, lurid, untamed images.

She had always hated the name.

In private, she called herself Lee. Simple. Straightforward. The middle name she carried that was more like the person she was inside. Vermillion Lee Durant, a pretty name, she supposed.

If only it belonged to someone else.

"Hurry, Vermillion, darling. We mustn't keep the colonel waiting."

Lee sighed. No, one must never keep a gentleman waiting. At least not here, in the world of the demimonde, where every man was king, or at least made to believe he was.

Lee paused in front of the tall cheval glass to check the fit of her scarlet velvet gown, a complement to the thick dark red curls swept up on her head, the style not really à la mode, as was the gown, but softer, more alluring, more pleasing to the gentlemen.

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