Very few books ever went unexplored by sage eyes ever since she'd discovered that love of reading that had been buried somewhere within the recesses of that fiery spirit that amused her mother endlessly - and aggravated daddy dearest to no end, which she almost always found a sense of pride and pleasure in. There had been some that failed to capture her sometimes fickle interest, more often than not resulting in that book being returned to its place upon those old oak shelves amidst its kin after she decidedly struggled through the first few chapters only to decide that it was not her forté. Then, there had been others that had so entrapped Adelaide that she'd hardly been able to put the book down. So many afternoons would be spent on the many plush throw pillows of her favorite Bay window in that extravagant manor on her father's estate, the gentle warmth of morning light rising over those distant hills caressing her fair skin and dark cocoa locks that cascaded gracefully down her shoulders and over those supple breasts as she would hold that enticing book gently in those soft hands, slender fingers brushes softly against each and every page. Even in her adolescent years, those countless books in the library has proven to be her escape away from the only life she'd ever known. It had been her only means then to be anywhere else but home on that large estate tended ever so diligently by the many maids and servants that were at the disposal of her parents. Those books gave her metaphorical wings on which she could fly away and not look back as she allowed for those intricately written and woven words to consume each and every one of her thoughts. The world seemed even larger than she knew it to be when she indulged herself deeply into those old pages of times long ago or worlds far away from her own. How she craved for such adventures of her own one day to carry her from the reaches of the man that seemed so adamant on making her into his puppet.

Finally, when the day had arrived that she boarded that plane and flew for her very first time far beyond those ever watchful blue-green eyes, she'd felt like there wasn't anything she couldn't do. Even back on the estate, the young woman had been content if not determined to keep to herself, tend to her own needs and desires instead of beckoning for one of the servants to find something that might muse her for a few moments. In fact, whenever it was that her mother was so inclined to busy herself in the large kitchen to satisfy her love for baking and cooking, Adelaide would be at her side, sage eyes observing within a keen interest only to be interrupted by her own questions on if she might have a try at whatever it was her mother was preparing. It was all good and well to know that she never had to worry about making each and every meal, but there was not only a certain excitement in learning how to crate something decadent by her own hands but also a type of invigorating liberation knowing that she could decide what she might hunger for and not have to wonder when it might be prepared next. If she wanted ratatouille, then she could see to it herself that the delicious dish was served. If a freshly made cheese soufflé was the very thing of her most fleeting desire, then it would be hers to indulge in. There were several other dishes Adelaide enjoyed that were not of her own country, but those were also the ones she truly needed to be mindful of the recipe directions on as it was not often something that her parents would have prepared. Despite that more traditional household she'd grown up in, the sophophilic in Adelaide only called her to test those paths less traveled only to find that she thoroughly enjoyed those more uncommon yet simple things she hasn't known to exist until she dared to venture beyond those boundaries set by her parents. It had all started with those books in the library and the knowledge they'd gifted her, urged fiercely on by the same love of cooking that her mother had unknowingly passed down to the young woman, and fueled even moreso by the new life that lay before her to explore and change to her heart's content. Unpacking those boxes with the ever present assistance of her dear Townsend, having everything arranged how she wanted them, only fastened into place that determination to ensure that she would make her life here and never return to those now seemingly suffocating fences she'd once been content to stay behind. Not any longer.

Books could only teach so much, though. All the homeschooling and self-taught lessons in the world could not have prepared the French woman for tonight. That was not to say that she was oblivious to the rest of the world and how it had a way of being both beautiful and cruel because she truly wasn't, but there was a vast different between being aware of what those around her were capable of and knowing what they were able to do should they decide to. She knew that men could be filthy pigs, perverse and out-rightly vulgar beings that were the bane of every woman's existence (though that was certainly not to exclude the poorly educated and terribly raised women who could be equally as distasteful if not moreso), but Adelaide had never truly witnessed such things first-hand. Until tonight. Perhaps if she would not have been so filled with indignation and fury that he would dare to try and say that she was some disgusting and uncivilized harlot that was nothing more than a possession of his, she might have been fearful. It couldn't be clearer that he was easily capable of overpowering her, forcing himself upon the French woman who was so much smaller than the burly beast of a man, and that in and of itself should have unnerved her. But it hadn't, the young woman too focused on the audacity he so carelessly held about himself as to make such a claim to take a moment and consider her well-being then. She is only startled for a moment to when the crash of glass breaking shattered the ambiance of the burlesque, and even then it had only been lasted for a moment before dissolving into silent satisfaction as she watched her assailant fall to the ground in an unconscious heap. Serves him right, she'd thought to herself before sage eyes has trailed after the man who'd been the only one to object to how the drunkard had essentially manhandled her sadly enough, having given her a warm smile before the larger men in black suites escorted him towards the exit.

Standing there with her teal scarf wrapped warmly around her neck, those intellegent sage eyes study the well built man. There was an air about him that did not make the French woman uncomfortable, though the slight weariness that flickers across those almond eyes still lingers. She'd never been the best at trusting others, certain that they always wanted something from her and yet there seemed nothing like that about this stranger with his long, dark hair and hunter green eyes that had locked with hers only briefly in the establishment she was likely not to return to anytime soon. He turns to face her and there is a look of surprise on the handsomely sculpted features of his fave as he offers her another kind smile that calls a small yet genuine smile to her own lips. It dares to grow only slightly as his tenor tones slip easily into the cold fall night air, that smile of his shifting into something more bold and daring as he extends his own name to her at the same moment reaching his hand out to her. She does not hesitate to reach for it, grasping his rougher, stronger hand with her smaller and softer fingers for a moment before withdrawing it to the warm confines of her coat."A fine quality that not many here seem to have. It is a pleasure, Monsieur Taylor", accented words smooth as milk and honey usher in their usual refined fashion towards the wounded man who only now seems to remember that he'd taken a blow on her behalf. He is quick to disregard her offer, ensuring that he was happy to accept repayment in the form of no retaliating actions on her part, though his words offer her no consolation and if anything those finely arched brows furrow in concern as he explains that women have repaid him in that very way. Have all people here lost their sense for honor? Were there truly that many barbaric and ungrateful individuals freely wandering the streets undetected?

Adelaide looks back down to his bleeding arm then and, having decided moments ago that he was not as likely to touch her distastefully as the drunk had, she closes the distance to examine those bleeding gashes more closely. There were definitely pieces of glass still buried in his skin, and that would be quite painful after his adrenaline ran out for his system. So, sage eyes lock again with hunter green screen and there is a resilience burning brightly within those depths."I'm afraid you might not have much of a choice in the matter. They're hardly just scratches. I insist that you allow me to treat them for you, if nothing else to keep me from worrying about the kind man who saved me from such barbaric company", she persists, familiar determination adding strength to those silken words of hers."Besides, I am sure my circumstances have cut your... entertainment short and I happen to have a fair selection of liquor that you might possibly find to serve as an adequate apology for getting you thrown out from this less than savory establishment", she encourages. After all, if he hadn't been there for just the dancers then he had likely been there for the drinks, and she was fairly confident that he would find enjoyment in what her cellar had to offer. There was no hesitancy to show Taylor the gratitude that she undoubtedly felt towards him, and though initially she would be almost reluctant to expose the location of her home to someone she hardly knew, but there was a surprising easiness to the man that quickly vanquished those uncertainties. Townsend would likely not be pleased with the young woman returning home after more or less having snuck out of the house, let alone bringing with her a man, but he would just have to get over it. It wasn't as though she were going to be sleeping with him, they'd only just barely met, though it was only natural that her eyes might have wandered briefly over his physique in casual interest and appraisal to find that he was far from unappealing. Her gaze rests firmly upon his own now though, a single brow lifted as though daring him to deny her a second time.