She reached inside the wide ruffle and pulled out a little vial. โPoison?โ asked Lady Maccon, tilting her head to one side. โCertainly not. Something far more important: perfume. We cannot very well have you fighting crime unscented, now, can we?โ โOh.โ Alexia nodded gravely. After all, Madame Lefoux was French. โCertainly not.
Gail CarrigerThe vampire's eyes were open, and he was staring at her intently. It was as though he were trying to speak to her with simply the power of a glare. Alexia did not speak glare-ish.
Gail CarrigerWhat do you want?" Sophronia was moved to exasperation. "Me? Stockings and breeches to come back in fashion. I do miss seeing a man's calves.
Gail CarrigerThe more Lord Maccon considered it, the more he grew to like the idea. Certainly his imagination was full of pictures of what he and Alexia might do together once he got her home in a properly wedded state, but now those lusty images were mixing with others: waking up next to her, seeing her across the dining table, discussing science and politics, having her advice on points of pack controversy and BUR difficulties. No doubt she would be useful in verbal frays and social machinations, as long as she was on his side.
Gail Carriger