[h2][center]Charlotte Carolle Lutwidge[/center][/h2][hr][indent][b]Lutwidge Manor[/b]

	If this was an attempt at getting her to let her guard down, it was working. Whoever this boy was he was incredibly underwhelming, to put it nicely. To put it bluntly, he was kind of a dork. But his words bore considering; she didn't know what he knew, but it was clear he'd made found something out about her. Whether his offer to help her was genuine or otherwise would remain to be seen, but she would agree to meeting him - at least, meeting him in kind - at least until she could ascertain how much about her he knew. It would be dangerous if he had knowledge of something incriminating, or even worse, her identity. She'd play by ear with this one.

	She'd let Aida make the opening move.

	The mannequin instinctively understood her intent, and walked quickly back upstairs to her room. For Techster, he would be left in silence for a couple of minutes, with only Cheshire as his (unknowing) companion. Finally, the door opened.

	Aida had donned a face - literally - to meet with young man, it was a face called "Camilla" - a fake maid with a real birth certificate that Charlotte had commissioned. Plenty of her faces had their own, verifiable identities. It made it easier for the mannequin to move about in broad daylight, when needed.

	Still dressed in her maid outfit, she greeted him with a quick bow and said, "We will talk here, if you don't mind." Although she sounded polite it was apparent that it didn't really matter much if he minded or not; they were going to talk outside, and he was not stepping in.

	"I'd rather not disturb the mistress, you see. She requires rest, and a matter such as this requires . . . discretion," she spoke. implying as though Charlotte were unaware of their meeting. "Now, who are you, and what is it you want?" Her voice was even and eerily devoid of emotion. Aida had a phenomenally good poker face, which was a given as she did not truly have one. More than once she found it gave her an advantage during negotiations, when no one could discern her true intentions. [/indent]
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[@Old Amsterdam]