Sergius Petrov could not help enjoying the fact he was guest of honour. He had already occupied far, far too much of Patience Hurst's time that proper or correct, and he knew that that at least would leave her father fuming. But Tobias Hurst rarely managed to use his brain for five minutes straight, and hopefully, if Sergius dangled a pretty young morsel in front of the man's face later tonight, well, everything would be all the better for him.
Still, it was an interesting evening. With so many there that would love to kill him, or at least watch him be killed, mingled with so many new and prospective... clientèle. All of them, or rather, the majority of them glittering examples of high-society and sinful vice. Ah, London. He smiled to himself, taking a glass of wine, it was also as wonderful as Paris had been.