Soulless (Parasol Protectorate, #1)

by Gail Carriger

Under ordinary circumstances, walks in Hyde Park were the kind of thing a single young lady of good breeding was not supposed to do without her mama and possibly an elderly female relation or two in attendance. Miss Tarabotti felt such rules did not entirely apply to her, as she was a spinster. Had been a spinster for as long as she could remember. In her more acerbic moments, she felt she had been born a spinster. Mrs. Loontwill had not even bothered with the expenditure of a come-out or a proper season for her eldest daughter. “Really, darling,” Alexia’s mother had said at the time in tones of the deepest condescension, “with that nose and that skin, there is simply no point in us going to the expense. I have got your sisters to think of.” So Alexia, whose nose really wasn’t that big and whose skin really wasn’t that tan, had gone on the shelf at fifteen.