Mrs. Loontwill did what any well-prepared mother would do upon finding her unmarried daughter in the arms of a gentleman werewolf: she had very decorous, and extremely loud, hysterics.

Ooo,” said Alexia, fascinated, “it shrinks back down again. The books didn't detail that occurrence.” The earl laughed. “You must show me these books of yours.

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.

Why did you want to go and distract me like that? I was quite in my element and everything.' Conall laughed. 'Someone has to keep you off balance; otherwise you'll end up ruling the empire. Or at least ordering it into wretched submission.

Such poopitations of the heart as you would not believe.

How was I to know idiocy was only a temporary condition, especially in your case? It never has been before!

Later on Lady Maccon was to describe that particular day as the worst of her life. She had neither the soul nor the romanticism to consider childbirth magical or emotionally transporting. So far as she could gather it mostly involved pain indignity and mess. There was nothing engaging or appealing about the process. And as she told her husband firmly she intended never to go through it again.