Something Spectacular (Something Fabulous, #2)

by Alexis Hall

If the only thing preventing every social occasion from descending inexorably into an orgy was the watchful eye of a trained orgy-preventer, then that reflected poorly on the disposition of everyone involved.

He was an unexpectedly capable hugger, which was to say he hugged like he meant it—neither rushing nor lingering but pressing her warmly to him in something that felt almost like gratitude.

“As the bard himself said: ‘The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus.’” “Treasons, stratagems, and spoils it is then,” muttered Peggy. Sir Horley lifted his brows. “Those dark affections, though. They sound rather exciting.

By the time a solemn young man had spread himself abaft a cello, Peggy was oddly comforted: the C. P. E. Bach concerto he played sounded like someone sobbing under their bedclothes in the dark, but it spoke to her present mood.

“I suppose I could have worked out for myself that an elderly woman in a cottage in Kent probably couldn’t knit a life-sized shark in less than half a week.”

“If nothing else”—she took refuge in levity—“I’ll have the singular distinction of having been with both Tarletons.” Peggy and Bonny exchanged glances. “That’s not even a little bit singular,” Belle told her finally. “Not,” Bonny added, “at the same time, obviously. But you know what Surrey is like.”

“Well. The thing is, immediately is my favourite time to do anything.”