I had a recent delivery of new fashion plates from Paris, and you hardly glanced at the hairstyles. My husband tells me you are still having difficulty controlling the change. And your cravat has been tied very simply of late, even for evening events.

Even Alexia, spinster that she was, was given an allowance large enough to dress her to the height of fashion— although she did tend to stick to trends a little too precisely. The poor thing could not help it. Her choice of clothing simply lacked soul.

Alexia,” she hissed to her friend, “there are knees positively everywhere. What do I do?

Oh, dear me, no. Then I should be known as that vampire with all the cats.

Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.

What if I arrange to be around Lord Akeldama during the full moon?” The earl looked daggers. “I am certain he would be extremely helpful in a fight. He could ruthlessly flatter all your attackers into abject submission.

He is clearly bookish. I did not follow a single word of their conversation at dinner last night, not one jot of it. He must be bookish.