Lord Maccon believed that if his trousers were on his legs, and something else was on his torso, he was dressed. The less done after that, the better. His wife had been startled to find that in the summertime, he actually went around their room barefoot! Once -- and only once, mind you -- he even attempted to join her for tea in such a state. Impossible man. Alexia put a stop to that posthaste.
Gail CarrigerMadame Lefoux accepted a cup of tea and sat on another little settee, next to the relocated calico cat. The cat clearly believed Madame Lefoux was there to provide chin scratches. Madame Lefoux provided.
Gail CarrigerPast persons of Scottishness in contact with mastermind of supernatural persuasion in London, aka Agent Doom.โ Floote moved on to the third bit of paper. โ โLady K says Agent Doom assisted depraved Plan of Action. May have all been his idea.โ Moving on to the last one, he read out, "Summer permits Scots to expose more knee than lady of refinement should have to withstand. Hairmuffs much admired. Yours etc., Puff Bonnet.
Gail CarrigerThe infant-inconvenience kicked in response, and Conall twitched at the sensation. โActive little pup, isnโt he?โ โShe,โ corrected his wife. โAs if any child of mine would dare be a boy.โ It was a long-standing argument. โBoy,โ replied Conall. โAny child as difficult as this one has been from the start must, perforce, be male.โ Alexia snorted. โAs if my daughter would be calm and biddable.โ Conall grinned, catching one of her hands and bringing it in for a kiss, all prickly whiskers and soft lips. โVery good point, wife. Very good point.
Gail CarrigerI suppose that saves us from having to determine what to do with a butler who goes around killing people. It certainly reflects badly upon our domestic staff. Still, I shall miss him. There was a man who knew how to brew a good cup of tea.
Gail Carriger