Defy or Defend by Gail Carriger

Author:Gail Carriger [Carriger, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: gail carriger; gl carriger; parasol; tea; delightful; manners; parasolverse; parasol protectorate; finishing school; supernatural society; claw and courtship; delightfully deadly; afternoon tea; audiobook; audiobooks; novella; book novels; ebooks; comfort read; emotional support; happy ending; steampunk novels; victoriana; steampunk book; steampunk fiction; fantasy; gas lamp fantasy; alt-history; gaslight; gaslamp; romance steampunk; steampunk; steampunk books; steampunk victorian; romantic fantasy; comedy of manners; humorous; romantic comedy; comedy; humor; funny; wits; witty; historical romances; victorian romance; historical; victorian; society; paranormal comedy; romance; urban fantasy; paranormal romance; supernatural; sweet; sexy; gentle; heart; love; alpha male; vampire romance; paranormal vampire; vampire romance; England; Nottingham; Midlands; North England; London; ballet; gothic; spies; spy; disguise; seduction
ISBN: 9781944751302
Publisher: GAIL CARRIGER LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Justice Wignall was a loon. Crispin could only stare in amazement. A very beautiful, very dramatic, but decidedly loony sort of loon. Cris felt a wave of affection wash over him. He was fond of loons. But this was taking things rather far, literally and figuratively.

The ethereal vampire ran the cold cobbles of downtown Nottingham so fast Cris was grateful for the general standards of his fitness regimen. Not fast by vampire standards, of course, more like a leisurely stroll for one of them, but fast for a human. Justice clearly wished to emphasize wafting over efficiency. The vampire was barefoot, the soft slap of his feet on the wet stone echoing through the streets. Nottingham was a lace-making city, and lace required good lighting, so the place was – by industry and nature – mostly composed of daylight folk. Nights were relatively quiet for a large urban town, especially to a man like Cris, who’d always made his home in London amongst the Progressive Set. So while there were a few people about and evening enterprises and tradesmen working away, it was nowhere like the hustle and bustle of old London Town.

If Justice was aware of Sir Crispin shadowing him, he didn’t show it. Honestly, how could he not be aware? Crispin’s boots positively clopped. He might be fit, but he was no expert on running long distances in inappropriate garb. What worried Cris was the distance. Generally speaking, hive-bound vampires, especially young ones like Justice, had to remain within a few blocks of their queen at all times. As they got older they could go farther away, and the queen’s praetoriani, by necessity, had a large range of motion. The fact that Justice could even leave city limits was worrisome. The queen’s hold to his tether was clearly weakening. And a vampire’s tether only stretched so far until it snapped.

They eventually reached some kind of unkempt park, and within that, some species of coppice or diminutive wooded area.

No doubt this was the objective, for Justice slowed and began a dramatic stumbling run, arms flailing gracefully – artlessly lost and forlorn in the vast forest (of two dozen or so trees, mind you). The stolen white nightgown trailed behind the vampire, pulling along loose leaves and branches. The hem dampened. A sleeve caught and tore.

Cris worried about Dimity’s reaction.

Finally Justice cast himself dramatically down upon the roots of a massive oak tree. He arranged himself to look like some painting out of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Sir Crispin felt that Justice might be going for an interpretation of Tennyson’s appalling poem, Lady of Shalott.

Cris hid behind a scruffy shrub and waited to see what might happen next. Above him, through the branches and occasional cloud, the night sky twinkled. Cris took a brief moment to appreciate seeing the stars once more. It had been so long.

A gentleman came riding through the coppice and dismounted with the ease of one truly comfortable in the saddle. He was dressed for the hunt – red jacket, tight cream-colored jodhpurs, a high top hat, and a crop in his hand.

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