A Curious Beginning (Veronica Speedwell, #1)

by Deanna Raybourn

regarded him through the veil of my lashes for some time as he labored, stretching a piece of elephant’s skin tautly over its padded armature. It required finesse, I realized, for at times he was brutally strong, using the sheer mass of his muscles to force the weighty hide into position; at others he was gently coaxing, his hands as deft as a musician’s. His language altered as well, for as he sweated and shoved, he swore like any common sailor, but as he persuaded, he murmured in a seductive whisper, enticing the beast to do his bidding.

He held up a hand. “No, thank you. I still think any mind capable of grasping the subtle differences between sexually driven and societally driven natural selection would be embarrassed at such low amusement.” I flicked him a glance. “My interests are varied. They include natural history, lady detectives, and good hygiene,” I said with a significant lift of the brows towards his feet.

“I am a scientist. You are a dilettante,” he returned with as much hauteur as a man in a bath sheet could manage.

Mr. Stoker’s gaze rested on mine, then moved down to my lips and back again. His lips parted, slowly, so slowly, and he spoke. “We can’t repeat it, Veronica,” he said, his voice oddly thick. He leaned closer still, and the night seemed full of him. The clean male scent of him was in my nose, and I could feel the solid warmth of his flesh as he stood so very near to me. “No, we mustn’t,” I agreed. “Such proximity is dangerous.”

She inclined her head and left us then, and I turned on Stoker with scorn. “O, the perfidy of men.” “What have I done?” he protested. “Nothing at present, but you are the only representative of your sex I have at hand to abuse. Take your lumps for your brothers.”