I don't know what to call Irene any more. Slave Irene? Lady Fortson? It's terrible. Sir Drake wants her dead. Our husbands just want her. And heaven knows what Lord Fortson wants. She's plotting and planning like a mad woman. She's not just trying to survive, she's trying to change everything. You must have heard the stories they tell about her. She's hanging around with professors at the university. She keeps meeting with lawyers. I hear that she's not just giving them sexual service like a good pleasure slave should; she's doing business with them. Involving them in her wicked plots. A slave had no right to do business with anyone. On top of all that, she's been hanging out with some of the most depraved aristocrats in the peerage. You know who I mean. The ones we don't socialize with. Most scandalous of all, she's trying to get the most respectable ladies in town to start behaving as badly as she does. It's beyond disgusting. The worst of all, she's writing about it in her books. Telling every sordid, disgusting detail. It's awful. Just awful.
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