Gail Carriger - Blameless (The Parasol Protectorate)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright 2010 by Tofa Borregaard

Excerpt from Tempest Rising copyright 2010 by Nicole Peeler

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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First eBook Edition: September 2010

ISBN: 978-0-316-08256-3

Good gracious me! I wasnt even aware of the fact that werewolves could become intoxicated. The Frenchwomans scientific interest was piqued.

It takes some considerable effort and real allocation of resources.

What was he drinking?

Formaldehyde, as it turns out. Just this morning I deduced his source. It is most wearisome. He worked his way through all of my reserves and then demolished half my specimen collection before I realized what he was up to. I keep a laboratory, you see, on the Woolsey Castle grounds in a converted gamekeepers hut.

Are you saying that you actually are a legitimate professor? Madame Lefoux tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in newfound respect.

Professor Lyall looked modestly proud. I am considered a bit of an expert on the procreative practices of Ovis orientalis aries.

Sheep?

Sheep.

Let me understand this correctly. You are a werewolf with a keen interest in sheep breeding?

Professor Lyall continued bravely on, ignoring her flippancy. I preserve the nonviable embryo in formaldehyde for future study. Lord Maccon has been drinking my samples. When confronted, he admitted to enjoying both the refreshing beverage and the crunchy pickled snack as well. I was not pleased.

BY GAIL CARRIGER

The Parasol Protectorate

Soulless

Changeless

Blameless

Heartless

This book really wouldnt have happened without Kristin, Devi, and Francesca. No, really, youd be reading a big fat collection of blank pages right now. Thanks, ladies, I owe you all wine and cheese! Lots of cheese. And a million hugs to J. Daniel Sawyer, who was more helpful, more often, than he realized.

H ow much longer, Mama, must we tolerate this gross humiliation?

Lady Alexia Maccon paused before entering the breakfast room. Cutting through the comfortable sounds of chinking teacups and scrunching toast shrilled her sisters less-than-dulcet tones. In an unsurprising morning duet of well-practiced whining, Felicitys voice was soon followed by Evylins.

Yes, Mumsy darling, such a scandal under our roof. We really shouldnt be expected to put up with it any longer.

Felicity championed the cause once more. This is ruining our chancescrunch, crunchbeyond all recuperation. It isnt to be borne. It really isnt.

Alexia made a show of checking her appearance in the hall mirror, hoping to overhear more. Much to her consternation, the Loontwills new butler, Swilkins, came through with a tray of kippers. He gave her a disapproving glare that said much on his opinion of a young lady caught eavesdropping on her own family. Eavesdropping was, by rights, a butlers proprietary art form.

Good morning, Lady Maccon, he said loudly enough for the family to hear even through their chatting and clattering, you received several messages yesterday. He handed Alexia two folded and sealed letters and then waited pointedly for her to precede him into the breakfast room.

Yesterday! Yesterday! And why, pray tell, did you not give them to me yesterday?

Swilkins did not reply.

Nasty bit of bother, this new butler. Alexia was finding that little was worse in life than existing in a state of hostility with ones domestic staff.

Entering the breakfast room, Alexia actually flounced slightly in her annoyance and turned her ire upon those seated before her. Good morning, dearest family.

As she made her way to the only empty chair, four pairs of blue eyes watched her progress with an air of condemnation. Well, three pairsthe Right Honorable Squire Loontwill was entirely taken with the correct cracking of his soft-boiled egg. This involved the application of an ingenious little device, rather like a handheld sideways guillotine, that nipped the tip off the egg in perfect, chipless circularity. Thus happily engrossed, he did not bother to attend to the arrival of his stepdaughter.

Alexia poured herself a glass of barley water and took a piece of toast from the rack, no butter, trying to ignore the smoky smell of breakfast. It had once been her favorite meal; now it invariably curdled her stomach. So far, the infant-inconvenienceas shed taken to thinking of itwas proving itself far more tiresome than one would have thought possible, considering it was years away from either speech or action.

Mrs. Loontwill looked with manifest approval at her daughters meager selection. I shall be comforted, she said to the table at large, by the fact that our poor dear Alexia is practically wasting away for want of her husbands affection. Such fine feelings of sentimentality. She clearly perceived Alexias breakfast-starvation tactics as symptoms of a superior bout of wallowing.

Alexia gave her mother an annoyed glance and inflicted minor wrath upon her toast with the butter knife. Since the infant-inconvenience had added a small amount of weight to Alexias already substantial figure, she was several stone away from wasting. Nor was she of a personality inclined toward wallowing. In addition, she resented the fact that Lord Maccon might be thought to have anything whatsoever to do with the factaside from the obvious, of which her family was as yet unawarethat she was off her food. She opened her mouth to correct her mother in this regard, but Felicity interrupted her.

Oh, Mama, I hardly think Alexia is the type to die of a broken heart.

Nor is she the type to be gastronomically challenged, shot back Mrs. Loontwill.

I, on the other hand, interjected Evylin, helping herself to a plateful of kippers, may jolly well do both.

Language, Evy darling, please. Mrs. Loontwill snapped a piece of toast in half in her distress.

The youngest Miss Loontwill rounded on Alexia, pointing a forkful of egg at her accusingly. Captain Featherstonehaugh has thrown me over! How do you like that? We received a note only this morning.

Captain Featherstonehaugh? Alexia muttered to herself. I thought he was engaged to Ivy Hisselpenny and you were engaged to someone else. How confusing.

No, no, Evys engaged to him now. Or was. How long have you been staying with us? Nearly two weeks? Do pay attention, Alexia dear, Mrs. Loontwill admonished.

Evylin sighed dramatically. And the dress is already bought and everything. I shall have to have it entirely made over.

He did have very nice eyebrows, consoled Mrs. Loontwill.