As Greyson had once told her, it was herself--her personality that was her greatest asset.

Was it to be utterly wasted?
There were hundreds of impersonal, sexless women, equipped for nothing else, with pens as keen if not keener than hers.

That was not the talent with which she had been entrusted--for which she would have to account.

It was her beauty, her power to charm, to draw after her--to compel by the mere exercise of her will.

Hitherto Beauty had been content to barter itself for mere coin of the realm--for ease and luxury and pleasure.