Curtsies & Conspiracies (Finishing School, #2)

by Gail Carriger

Sophronia widened her eyes. “Not me this time, I promise.” “It’s always you,” accused Sidheag in an appreciative kind of way.

tumbled backward onto her bony bottom. Unprotected by skirts and petticoats, she fell hard, her skate-covered feet sticking up in the air, the wheels still going furiously.

Dimity bounced onto her bed, grinning. She possessed a generous and happy spirit that allowed her to enjoy a friend’s good fortune.

After all, persons of consequence did not pay attention to buildings going up or down—they were too exposed. Anything to do with construction was highly embarrassing.

Henri Giffard’s mustache curled up and out like a corkscrew, waxed to within an inch of its life. It was too theatrical.

Death, felt Sister Mattie, must come to everyone in the end. Sometimes it simply required a little help.