It was a chilly night, as usual, in the streets of Chicago. Hardly any man was out at this time of night, less they were outta their minds and in a mood to have their breeches frozen off. Horse's breaths fogged in the air, their eyes sullen and flanks shuddering, only a few lights lit up the streets and reflected off the cobblestone roads. It was a wonder that it wasn't snowing, truly, but it made for the perfect night for Thomas to settle his coach in front of his little escapade's house. He pulled his sophisticated black coat around himself tighter to ward off the chill, his fine jewelry shifting with the motion. But it was worth it for a pretty little thing.