A Conspiracy in Belgravia (Lady Sherlock, #2)

by Sherry Thomas

It was as if she were trying to listen to someone timidly tapping out a message in Morse code on the window, in the midst of a hailstorm.

Penelope had long ago decided that while the meek might inherit the earth, the nonmeek enjoyed far more interesting conversations—to say the least.

“He can’t be this kind of a man, can he? He respects women.” “He respects women he deems worthy of respect—I am no longer one in his eyes.

“I would have liked to have another muffin before leaving this table, but then again, I always feel the same no matter how many muffins I eat.”