A Grave Robbery (Veronica Speedwell, #9)

by Deanna Raybourn

“Veronica, who? Who but us would undertake such activities? Do you really imagine London is full of natural scientists repeatedly and relentlessly distracted from their work by felonies and mayhem?” “It might happen,” I said absently.

“Wait? Veronica, I had no notion that word was even in your vocabulary. You are the most impetuous, headstrong, reckless—” “There is no call to make hurtful remarks,” I cut in. “Hurtful? I mean them as compliments.

So I think we should make a pact. Neither of us is permitted to die without the other. What do you think?” He wrapped his arms more tightly around me. “I promise. If I am ever near death, I vow to take you with me.” “That is not precisely what I had in mind,” I began, but a soft snore told me the moment had passed. I continued to stroke his hair long into the night, reflecting that dying with him would be a very pleasant way to go indeed.