Soulless (Parasol Protectorate, #1)

by Gail Carriger

Alexia was belligerent. “Nothing of significance has occurred. My honor is still intact.” Mrs. Loontwill stepped forward and slapped her eldest daughter smartly across the face. The cracking sound echoed like a pistol shot through the room. “You are in no position to argue this point, young lady!” Felicity and Evylin gasped in unison and stopped giggling. Floote made an involuntary movement from his statuelike state near the door. Lord Maccon, faster than anyone’s eye could catch, suddenly appeared next to Mrs. Loontwill, a steel grip about her wrist. “I would not do that again, if I were you, madam,” he said. His voice was soft and low and his expression bland. But there was a kind of anger in the air that was all predator: cold, impartial, and deadly. The anger that wanted to bite and had the teeth to back it up. This was a side of Lord Maccon that no one had seen before—not even Miss Tarabotti. Squire Loontwill had the distinct impression that, regardless of his decision, Alexia was now no longer his responsibility. He also had the impression that his wife was actually in danger of her life.