An Impossible Impostor (Veronica Speedwell, #7)

by Deanna Raybourn

It was astonishing, I mused, how often people claimed to be honest when they were simply making a virtue of excessive rudeness.

If priceless gems and expensive bric-a-brac suddenly found their way from palace strongrooms to the necks and drawing rooms of the British in India, who would complain? Certainly not the various nobles whose possessions had been plundered.

“I do not ask you to excuse my grandson,” she told us. “His skepticism of Europeans is an honest result of the invasion and occupation of our country. I hope in time he will come to trust that we have some friends here, although not as many as I would like.”