An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell, #6)

by Deanna Raybourn

“Veronica, I know you said you would never marry, but—” “Do not dare,” I hissed, thrusting a pointed finger between his ribs. “Do not even think of proposing marriage to me under these circumstances.” “Then under which?” he asked, his voice lit with sudden hopefulness. “None! I thought you understood me,” I blazed back at him. “Did you think I spoke in jest when I said I would never marry you?” “No, but I thought—” “You thought I would change my mind,” I jibed, thoroughly enraged. “You thought I was a woman, inconstant as the moon, and I would be persuaded by pretty speeches or spirited lovemaking or some other romantic nonsense. But I will not be swayed,” I warned him, poking again hard. “I will not be swayed.” “Very well,” he said. “But it does not always have to be settled domesticity or murderous pursuits. We might travel a little, you know. Find a meeting place in between dull routine and homicidal peril.” “I suppose,” I said.