Lord Macon deposited his wife into a chair and then knelt next to her, clutching one of her hands. "Tell me truthfully - how are you feeling?" Alexia took a breath. "Truthfully? I sometimes wonder if I, like Madame Lefoux, should affect masculine dress." "Gracious me, why?" "You mean aside from the issue of greater mobility?" "My love, I don't think that's currently the result of your clothing." "Indeed, I mean after the baby." "I still don't see why should want to." "Oh no? I dare you to spend a week in a corset, long skirts and a bustle." "How do you know I haven't?
Gail CarrigerAcknowledgements With grateful thanks to the three least-appreciated and hardest-working proselytizers of the written word: independent bookstores, librarians, and teachers.
Gail CarrigerLord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How dรฉclassรฉ, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.
Gail CarrigerWhatโs that?โ she asked the girl, wrinkling her nose. โOh, that? Thatโs just Pillover.โ โAnd whatโs a pillover, when itโs at home?โ โMy little brother.โ โAh, I commiserate. I have several of my own. Dashed inconvenient, brothers.
Gail CarrigerHis eyes are peculiar. There is nothing in them, like an eclair without the cream filling. It's wrong, lack of cream.
Gail CarrigerLady Maccon stopped suddenly. Her husband got four long strides ahead before he realized she had paused. She was starring thoughtfully up into the aether, twirling the deadly parasol about her head. "I have just remembered something," Alexia said when he returned to her side. "Oh, that explains everything. How foolish of me to think you could walk and remember at the same time.
Gail Carriger