An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell, #6)

by Deanna Raybourn

So, the gentleman who had posed with her for a photograph on the Teufelstreppe was the Duke of Lokendorf.

eldritch

vivarium.

Between her departure and that of Tiberius, I felt abandoned by my friends, a state of affairs I would not have credited only a year before.

I was conscious only of a keen, sharp-edged sense of loss. I had, by any measure, all that I could wish for. I was healthy and not uncomely. I had work I loved, friends I treasured, and a man for whom I would walk through fire—and, in fact, had upon occasion and in the most literal sense. I could find no reason for the overwhelming sense of agitation I felt, but I rebelled against it.

I could no longer run from myself as I had once so blithely done. I must, instead, sit and face my demons.

archipelago.”

malodorous

imprecations

august

“Society in the Alpenwald is rather more stratified than in your country. Artists and performers, like tradesmen, are always referred to by French titles, whilst the nobility is addressed in German.” Stoker twitched at that, no doubt longing to make a comment that would have done Robespierre proud.

shako

“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.”

Veronica, I have no need to pin those wings of yours to a card and put a label to you—Mrs. Revelstoke Templeton-Vane. You are, and always will be, Veronica Speedwell. And I could never wish you different than you are.