It wasn't even what the lad said, it was how he said it. Deliberate. Slow. Staring at Eileen all along. As if he knew somehow what that tone would do.
As if he knew that, Eileen wanted him to repeat those words wearing nothing but a collar and several well-placed rings on the body she'd already studied plenty in black and white. As if he'd wanted her to want just that.
Be it any woman or man in Caractacus Burke's place, she would be so sure of their intent by now. But this was Burke and Burke's intent ran toward... things and men, and Eileen was neither.
Still, the question lingered in her mind as she sat back and drew her finger across the prickly sheath of the 'stone, made the protective layer part and melt away like wax at the touch of her finger, as she dispelled the other precautionary charm or two placed on the gobstone prior to giving it away.
As she offered it back, clean and shining with the familiar dark mirror surface, she met that calm, brown gaze again and asked: "Your bath. Was it deliberate?"