An Unexpected Peril (Veronica Speedwell, #6)

by Deanna Raybourn

Stoker was never happier than when imparting information, whether one asked for it or not. This, I had observed frequently upon my travels, is common in the male of the species.

Lol, I just love Veronica's observation about men

“Are you listening, Veronica?” Stoker demanded. “Not in the slightest,” I assured him cheerfully.

Oh, I love these two so much

There is nothing in natural history that is not new again every time we encounter it, no greater mystery than things that exist apart from man and with no interest in us.”

There will always be men who rally to the cause of another man in his moment of disgrace simply because they fear their own so deeply.”

Ugh men

“No, I think you were quite correct the first time,” I said cheerfully. “This is a case of murder.” “I reject this,” Stoker said in a tone that bordered on desperation. “Stoker, as you well know, murders happen,” I told him. “But why must they happen to us?” I patted his shoulder kindly. “Because Fate knows we will always rise to the occasion, for we are the servants of Justice.” “Even servants have the occasional month off,” he said in some bitterness.

LOL

Huxley had belonged to Stoker when I met him, but Nut—like Vespertine—was the souvenir of an investigation, and it occurred to me, not for the first time, that Stoker and I were going to have to be a little more judicious in our acquisitions of animals unless we meant to start a dog circus.

Just love how they, without a doubt, just adopted these dogs

There was nothing so fragile as a butterfly wing, nor anything as lovely.

It was only in a moment of tender intimacy that he had admitted to wearing it because it was the one possession he had that I had also owned, and in the darkest days, when he dared not hope I would return his love, it was his consolation.

omfg so precious

That is my uniform,” he said with a lowering look. “It has been altered because you are a very small man.” Stoker, whose inches just topped a perfectly respectable six feet, raised a brow. “Not where it matters,” he said just loudly enough for me to hear.

HAHAHAHAHA!

“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.”

Beautiful - this is why I have high expectations

“I understand you, Veronica, because I am 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. I was still smiling when I fell asleep.

stunning

“You are correct in that it is a good theory, but I cannot believe it.” I rose and dropped a kiss to his head. “Your trouble, Revelstoke Templeton-Vane, is that you are too sweetly naïve where women are concerned.” His laughter was still ringing in my ears when I left him.

“It is Princess Gisela.”

*gasp* lesbians really do exist

“Loyalties are so conflicted and convoluted that if Germany went to war, it would plunge the rest of Europe into chaos.”

It's sad reading this because eventually, WW1 happens. I like how this author has hinted at the political struggles happening in Europe at this time that leads to the events of the war

“You will be disappointed,” he warned me. “She looks very much like a turnip.” I stifled a laugh and he drew back, his gaze intent. “I am deadly serious. She looks like a turnip in a black bonnet.

Hehehhe Stoker knows how to cheer her up

He had been speaking to the chancellor when I entered, but when he caught sight of me, he stopped, and for a moment we were the only two people in the room, perhaps even on earth. I paused and he advanced, bowing low as he swept off the cap. I realized then that he wore a short velvet cape that swung as he moved with a sort of Elizabethan swagger. “Most effective,” I murmured. “Dazzling,” he said, brushing his mouth over my fingers.

Hehe the lovesick fools

was aware of a rising excitement, not at visiting a castle, but at setting foot in what was my family home. My ancestors had built the place, stone by stone, and had lived there, had died there, loved and hated and borne new generations within its walls. And at last, I would come home.

I like how Veronica is conflicted about her heritage in this book - it does show a different side to her that feels vulnerable and that wants family

“His Royal Highness,” the footman proclaimed. “The Prince of Wales.”

Uh oh

“Fecklessness! We are never feckless,” I told her coldly. “We are full to the brim with feck.

LOL

Still he hesitated, and suddenly I understood the reason for his reluctance. “Oh, Stoker,” I murmured. “How could you?” “I was in a hurry,” he muttered. “I wanted to get to my spoonbill.” His blush deepened as he looked to our captor.

Lol he's going comando

“There is no call to be in a temper,” I said. “Just because we have been abducted. Again.” “I think there is every call to be in a temper,” he returned. “This is precisely the sort of predicament I was trying to avoid.” “I certainly hope you do not mean to suggest this is my fault,” I began. “Suggest? No, I am stating it outright,” he told me.

God i love their banter

You cannot really believe that just because we have eluded a fatal conclusion to every previous unexpected peril that we must do so again.

HE SAID IT

“Do you always take your own attempted murder in your stride?” I considered this. “The first time is unnerving,” I admitted. “But when it gets to be habit,” Stoker added, “one must adapt a rational attitude and make certain to eat to keep up one’s strength.”

Stoker was occupied with his book—a saucy French novel that had been banned in seventeen countries—and

Stoker is a smut girlie

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.

I love how he accepts what she wants, too, in their relationship. It's refreshing to see it in a historical fiction