Soulless by Gail Carriger

Author:Gail Carriger [Carriger, Gail]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Vampires, London (England), Werewolves, SteamPunk, Horror, General, Romance, Fantasy, supernatural, Historical, Fantasy Fiction, Fiction
ISBN: 9780316056632
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2009-09-28T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Backyard Shenanigans

The Loontwills returned from their shopping expedition flushed with success. Except for Squire Loontwill, who was now less flush than he had been and wore an expression more often seen on men returning from battle— one that had been badly lost with many casualties. Floote appeared at his elbow with a large glass of cognac. The squire muttered something about Floote-liness being next to godliness and downed the liquor in one gulp.

No one was surprised to find Miss Tarabotti entertaining Miss Hisselpenny in the front parlor. The squire muttered a greeting only just long enough to satisfy politeness and then retreated to his office with a second glass of cognac and the mandate that he was not to be disturbed for any reason.

The ladies Loontwill greeted Miss Hisselpenny in a far more verbose manner and insisted on showing off all of their purchases.

Miss Tarabotti had the presence of mind to send Floote for more tea. It was clearly going to be a long afternoon.

Felicity pulled out a leather box and lifted the lid. “Look at these. Are they not utterly divine? Do you not wish you had some just like?” Lying in scrumptious grandeur on a bed of black velvet was a pair of lace elbow-length evening gloves in pale moss green with tiny mother-of-pearl buttons up the sides.

“Yes,” agreed Alexia, because they were. “But you do not own an evening gown to match, do you?”

Felicity waggled her eyebrows excitedly. “Very perceptive, my dear sister, but I do now.” She grinned in a most indecorous manner.

Miss Tarabotti thought she could understand her step-father's deathly pallor. An evening gown to match such gloves would cost a small fortune, and whatever Felicity purchased, Evylin must have in equal value. Evylin proved this universal law by proudly displaying her own new evening gloves in silvery blue satin with rose-colored flowers embroidered about the edge.

Miss Hisselpenny was considerably impressed by such largesse. Her family's means did not extend into the realm of embroidered gloves and new evening gowns on a whim.

“The dresses are due next week,” said Mrs. Loontwill proudly, as though her two daughters had accomplished something marvelous. “Just in time for Almack's, we hope.” She looked down her nose at Ivy. “Will you be attending, Miss Hisselpenny?”

Alexia bridled at her mother, who was perfectly well aware that the Hisselpennys were not of a quality suitable to such an illustrious event. “And what new dress will you be wearing. Mama?” she asked sharply. “Something appropriate, or your customary style—a gown better suited to a lady half your age?”

“Alexia!” hissed Ivy, truly shocked.

Mrs. Loontwill turned flinty eyes on her eldest daughter. “Regardless of what I am wearing, it is clear you will not be there to see it.” She stood. “Nor, I think, will you be permitted to attend the duchess's rout tomorrow evening.” With that punishment, she swept from the room.

Felicity's eyes were dancing with merriment. “You are perfectly correct, of course. The gown she picked out is daringly low-cut, frilly, and pale pink.

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