She laughed at the mention of the Jerric brother's work, crinkling her nose at the very thought. "As if I would read such disagreeable and florid prose, thank you but no." She had to bit her lip at the thought of him in a corset, she knew some men enjoyed cross dressing; after all she was known by some for her clothing and had had clients come to her for insured privacy in commissions. Ryan had never seemed to mind just what people sought her out for, so long as he got the money for it. "I'd dress you like a Prince, not a princess..." she confessed, thinking that with his dark, almost savage 'beauty' he would be any woman's dream.<br/><br/>Atticus asking her to forgive her drew her attention, a furrow in her brow before her eyes widening at the thought of him being overeager. Color stained her pale cheeks even as her eyes swept downward to conceal the thoughts, the way that her heart leaped in her breast. Could he want to be such to her? "I...please, you were not over eager, nor did you discomfort me, I simply did not believe myself to be...in that way desirable to anyone. I've been realizing lately that, well I am a whore, not a princess to have a hero." Nervously she tucked some of her loose hair behind one ear, her eyes still downcast.<br/><br/><em>"But... forgive me again, but I know of one such whore."</em><br/><br/>Perhaps they all did, Master Ryan was of who he spoke and he had saved them all in one way or another. They had a very gentle, plush life here in the Teahouse, she had seen that more and more over the years and never so clearly as when she had helped to tend and sooth the newly brought in Atticus. Did he hate that she had seen him like that? He always tried to be so strong, to seem invincible. She never spoke of those moments. They were his and not hers, for all that she had been a part of them and another's privacy was never something she would wish to infringe upon.<br/><br/><em>"No, no more words."</em>The cool tone that next emerged from his lips did draw her eyes up, guileless, concerned. Had she upset him then somehow? So much for being so vaunted as a soothing personality if she could put him on edge so carelessly. Shame stung at Fiona; she should have kept up her facade, never letting it slip. People, whether they be patrons or not, only wanted to be around happy people, not those who were sorrowful in their thoughts. Even her William she had kept parts of her sadness from, she never pushed, never asked for more then he wanted to give. But he had wanted to give so very very much and in the end it had destroyed a little part of her heart.<br/><br/><em>"Desire is powerful. Important. It is the blinkers of a carriage horse, letting us see nothing but our goal. It is a tool that should not be over used. I am sorry if I offended you." </em><br/><br/>"I...forgive me Mr. Cross, for I fear it was I who offended you. Offense would be the last thing I wished from my lips in your presence." She set the book he had brought on the coffee table, a smile on her lips that contained by far more sorrow and weariness then most ever saw. Quietly the redhead got to her feet, the robe parting around her again to reveal a flash of the scantily clad body beneath it. She moved away from the couch, from him, her emotions a tempest within her breast and so the woman wrapped her arms around herself, leaning into a window sill to stare out into the rain. "Desire burns though; if not carefully watched then it can mar, ruin and destroy. Better then to be but a bed of embers that makes all comfortable, soothed. No one seeks me for the flames of desire, but for the embers of soothing understanding. A banked fire, comfortable, servicing but not demanding of attention nor watching. That is my goal Mr. Cross, or it was after the loss of a particular client. And now the rain reminds me of what once was and I wonder if I have been banked too long. That is what I meant, by desire being foolish."<br/><br/>One hand raised, to caress the cool glass, eyes half closed as she remembered the first time she had been brought into this very room, on William Hatch's arm. "I did not say such things for pity or to make you scorn me; surely you must already so safe a life I have led, so pampered and cherished in many ways. I'm well aware of my luck, the blessing I have in this place. I speak too much, please forget my words. Next time you seek my help I shall make certain I am composed and offer naught more then you request." Softly, she bit her lower lip, not brave enough to turn, to face him as she murmured against the glass, fogging it with her breath. "Perhaps you should go, I am not fit company this afternoon I fear."