A Perilous Undertaking (Veronica Speedwell, #2)

by Deanna Raybourn

“What the bollocking hell was that?”

The princess looked me over slowly. “I cannot make you out, Miss Speedwell.” “Do not try, Your Royal Highness,” I advised.

“Dramatic people give me a pain in my backside,” he retorted.

I rose. “As you wish, Sir Hugo.” He leapt to his feet. “Oh no, you don’t! I understand you well enough to know that meek acquiescence is never a good sign.”

I had not designed a configuration for pursuing murderers, but I suspected the one I used for stalking butterflies would prove adequate.

Those gentlemen would know, wouldn’t they?” I almost admired her touching faith in the judicial system. “You would think so,” I managed.

It has been my experience in dealing with the male of the species that the easiest way to get one to do as you wish is to encourage him to do precisely the opposite.

“I have a gift for debauchery. It is why I have largely given it up. There is no real thrill in sinning when one has a talent for it.”

“There is a rather good single malt in the decanter upon the sideboard,” she instructed. “Pour a measure into everyone’s tea, child. I think we could all use a stiffener.”