Part 34 (1/2)

Alexia, still overcome with the most profound shock, opened the small window above the carriage door and poked her head out into the rus.h.i.+ng wind.

”Sister, come away from the window. That will wreak havoc with your hair. And, really, your hair doesn't need the excuse,” Felicity jawed on. Alexia ignored her, so Felicity looked to the Frenchwoman. ”What is is she doing?” she doing?”

Madame Lefoux gave a sad little grimace of a smile-no dimples. ”Listening.” She put a gentle hand on Alexia's back, rubbing it softly. Alexia did not appear to notice.

”For what?”

”Howling, running wolves.”

And Alexia was listening, but there was only the damp quiet of a Scottish night.

extras

meet the author Ms. Carriger began writing in order to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriateBrit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small-town life and inadvertently acquired several degrees in Higher Learning. Ms. Carriger then traveled the historic cities of Europe, subsisting entirely on biscuits secreted in her handbag. She now resides in the Colonies, surrounded by a harem of Armenian lovers, where she insists on tea imported directly from London. She is fond of teeny-tiny hats and tropical fruit. Find out more about Ms. Carriger at .

introducing If you enjoyed CHANGELESS, look out for BLAMELESS The Parasol Protectorate: Book the Third by Gail Carriger How much longer, Mama, must we tolerate this gross humiliation?”

Lady Alexia Maccon paused before entering the breakfast room. Cutting through the comfortable sounds of c.h.i.n.king teacups and scrunching toast came her sister's nondulcet tones. In an unsurprising morning duet of well-practiced whining, Felicity's voice was soon followed by Evylin's.

”Yes, mumsy darling, such a scandal under our roof. We really shouldn't be expected to put up with it any longer.”

Felicity championed the cause once more. ”This is ruining our chances”-crunch, crunch-”beyond all recuperation. It isn't to be borne. It really isn't.”

Alexia made a show of checking her appearance in the hall mirror, hoping to overhear more. Much to her consternation, the Loontwills' new butler, Swilkins, came through with a tray of kippers. He gave her a disapproving glare that said much on his opinion of a young lady caught eavesdropping on her own family. Eavesdropping was, by rights, a butler's proprietary art form.

”Good morning, Lady Maccon,” he said loudly enough for the family to hear even through their chatting and clattering. ”You received several messages this morning.” He handed Alexia two folded and sealed letters and then waited pointedly for her to precede him into the breakfast room.

Alexia hid her annoyance and flounced in. ”Good morning, dearest family.”

Said family responded reluctantly to her pleasant greeting.

As she made her way carefully to the only empty chair, four pairs of blue eyes watched her progress with an air of condemnation. Well, three pairs: the Right Honorable Squire Loontwill seemed entirely taken with the correct cracking of his soft-boiled egg. This involved the application of an ingenious little device, rather like a handheld sideways guillotine, that nipped the tip off the egg in perfect, chipless circularity. Thus happily engrossed, he did not bother to attend to the arrival of his stepdaughter.

Alexia carefully poured herself a gla.s.s of barley water and took a piece of toast from the rack, no b.u.t.ter, trying to ignore the smoky smell of breakfast. It had once been her favorite meal; now it invariably curdled her stomach. So far the infant-inconvenience-as she'd taken to thinking of it-was proving itself far more tiresome than one would have thought possible, considering it was years away from either speech or action.

Mrs. Loontwill looked with manifold approval at her daughter's meager selection. ”I shall be comforted,” she said to the table at large, ”by the fact that our poor dear Alexia is practically wasting away for want of her husband's affection. Such fine feelings of sentimentality.” She clearly perceived Alexia's breakfast-starvation tactics as symptoms of a superior bout of wallowing.

Alexia gave her mother an annoyed glance. Since the infant-inconvenience had already brought with it a small amount of weight added to Alexia's already substantial figure, she was several stone away from ”wasting.” Nor was she of a personality inclined toward wallowing. In addition, she resented the fact that Lord Maccon might be perceived as having anything whatsoever to do with the fact-aside from the obvious, of which her family was as yet unaware-that she was off her food. She opened her mouth to correct her mother in this regard, but Felicity interrupted her.

”Oh, Mama, I hardly think Alexia is the type to die of a broken heart.”

”Nor is she the type to be gastronomically challenged,” shot back Mrs. Loontwill.

”I, on the other hand,” interjected Evylin, helping herself to a plateful of kipper, ”may jolly well do both.”

”Language, Evy darling, please.” Mrs. Loontwill snapped a piece of toast in half in her distress.

The youngest Miss Loontwill rounded on Alexia, pointing a forkful of eggs at her accusingly. ”Captain Featherstonehaugh has thrown me over! How do you like that? We received a note only this morning.”

”Captain Featherstonehaugh?” Alexia muttered to herself. ”I thought he was engaged to Ivy and you were engaged to someone else. How confusing.”

”No no, Evy's engaged to him now. Or, was. How long have you been staying with us? Do pay attention, Alexia dear.” Mrs. Loontwill admonished.

Evylin sighed dramatically. ”And the dress is already bought and everything. I shall have to have it entirely made over.”

”He did have very nice eyebrows,” consoled Mrs. Loontwill.

”Exactly,” crowed Evylin. ”Where will I find another pair of eyebrows like that? Crushed, I tell you, Alexia. I am absolutely crushed. And it's all your your fault.” fault.”

Evylin, it must be noted, did not actually look nearly so bothered as one rightly ought over the loss of a fiance, especially one reputed to possess such heights of eyebrow superiority. She stuffed the eggs into her mouth and chewed methodically. She had taken it into her head recently that chewing every bite of food twenty times over would keep her slender. What it did was keep her at the dinner table longer than anyone else.

”He cited philosophical differences, but we all know why he really broke things off.” Felicity waved a gold-edged note at Alexia-a note that clearly contained the good captain's deepest regrets-a note that, from the stains about its person, had received the concerted attention of everyone at the breakfast table, including the kippers.

”I agree.” Alexia calmly sipped her barley water. ”Philosophical differences? That cannot possibly be true. You don't actually have a philosophy about anything. Do you, Evylin dear?”

”So you admit responsibility?” Evylin was moved to swallow her eggs early so that she could launch the attack once more. She tossed her blond curls, only one or two shades removed from the color of her eggs.

”Certainly not. I never even met the man.”

”But it is still your your fault. Abandoning your husband like that, staying with us instead of him. It is outrageous. People. Are. Talking.” Evylin emphasized her words by stabbing ruthlessly at a sausage. fault. Abandoning your husband like that, staying with us instead of him. It is outrageous. People. Are. Talking.” Evylin emphasized her words by stabbing ruthlessly at a sausage.