An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell, #6)

by Deanna Raybourn

Stoker snorted. “You are the most maddeningly delusional woman I have ever known.” He took the rope parcel from my hands and looped his arms about my waist. “Can we, for just the next few hours, put this aside?”

To hurl one’s few possessions into a carpetbag and embark for a new adventure was the only solace. To leave behind one’s woes in a damp and fogbound land, awaking in brilliant sunshine, the air heavy with spices and the promise of fresh endeavors, this was true happiness.

And they nicknamed her the bolter

“You are not among the good that has happened to me. You are the best of all that I have known. You are what I searched for when I left that house and wandered this earth, boy and man. You are the part of myself I never thought to find because I did not even dare to dream you existed. You are all that I want and more than I deserve, and I will go to my grave thanking a god in whom I do not believe for bringing me to you.”

You are all that I want and more than I deserve, and I will go to my grave thanking a god in whom I do not believe for bringing me to you.

You are, and always will be, Veronica Speedwell. And I could never wish you different than you are. Now, let us go back to London where we belong.”

“‘I will imagine you Venus tonight and pray, pray, pray to your star like a heathen,’” he murmured.