Highland werewolves had a reputation for doing atrocious and highly unwarranted *things*, like wearing smoking jackets to the dinner table.

Very well, Lord Maccon. If we are going to play this particular hand, would you be interested in becoming my...” “Mistress?

Who doesn’t want an exploding wicker chicken?

The important question is, what will your wear for a wedding dress, Alexia? You look horrible in white.

These feelings you engender in me, my lord, are most indelicate. You should stop causing them immediately.

Lord Maccon, might we have words on the proper tying of a cravat? For my sanity’s sake? Lord Maccon was nonplussed. Professor Lyall, on the other hand, was pained. “I do what I can.” Lord Akeldama looked at him, pity in his eyes. “You are a brave man.

I am entirely capable." "Of what, waddling up to someone and ruthlessly bumping into them?