Gail Carriger - Heartless

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Lady Alexia Maccon, soulless, is at it again, only this time the trouble is not her fault. When a mad ghost threatens the queen, Alexia is on the case, following a trail that leads her deep into her husband's past. Top that off with a sister who has joined the suffragette movement (shocking!), Madame Lefoux's latest mechanical invention, and a plague of zombie porcupines and Alexia barely has time to remember she happens to be eight months pregnant.
Will Alexia manage to determine who is trying to kill Queen Victoria before it is too late? Is it the vampires again or is there a traitor lurking about in wolf's clothing? And what, exactly, has taken up residence in Lord Akeldama's second best closet?

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She cupped his cheek with her gloved hand. “But this is our baby.”

“Do you have a better solution?” It was an honest question. He was genuinely hoping she could think up an alternative.

Alexia shook her head, trying not to come over mawkish. Then she firmed up her mouth. “Very well.” She turned to Lord Akeldama. “If you intend to take possession of my child, then I’m moving in, too.”

Lord Akeldama didn’t miss a beat. He opened his arms wide as though to embrace her. “Darlingest of Alexias, welcome to the family.”

“You do realize I may have to take up residence in your other closet?”

“Sacrifices, sacrifices.”

“What? Absolutely not.” Lord Maccon stood and glared down at his wife.

Lady Maccon got that look on her face. “I’m already in London two nights a week for the Shadow Council. I’ll come in on Wednesday and stay through to Monday, spend the rest of the week at Woolsey.”

The earl could do math. “Two nights? You’ll give me two nights?! Unacceptable.”

Alexia wouldn’t budge. “You’re in town on BUR business most evenings yourself. You can see me then.”

“Alexia,” said Lord Maccon on a definite growl, “I refuse to petition for visiting rights with my own wife!”

“Tough cheese. I am also this child’s mother. You are forcing me to choose.”

“Perhaps, if I may?” Professor Lyall interjected.

Lord and Lady Maccon glowered at him. They enjoyed arguing with each other almost as much as they enjoyed any other intimate activity.

Professor Lyall called upon the sublime confidence of the truly urbane. “The house adjacent is to let. If Woolsey were to take it on as a town residence, my lord . . . ? You and Lady Maccon could maintain a room here at Lord Akeldama’s but pretend to live next door. This would keep up the appearance of separation for when the child arrives. You, Lord Maccon, could spend meals and so forth with members of the pack while they are in town. Of course, parts of the month everyone would have to return to Woolsey for security purposes, and there’s hunting and runs to consider. But it might work, as a temporary compromise. For a decade or two.”

“Will the vampires object?” Alexia rather liked the idea. Woolsey Castle was a little too far outside of London for her taste, and those buttresses—positively excessive.

“I don’t believe so. Not if it is made absolutely clear that Lord Akeldama has complete parental control, proper documentation and all. And we manage to keep up pretenses.”

Lord Akeldama was amused. “Dolly, darling, so deliciously unprecedented—a wolf pack living directly next to a vampire such as moi.

The earl frowned. “My marriage was also unprecedented.”

“True, true.” Lord Akeldama was on a roll. He swept to his feet, dumping the cat unceremoniously off his lap, and began sashaying about the room. This evening he wore highly polished oxblood boots and white velvet jodhpurs with a red riding jacket. It was all purely decorative. Vampires rarely rode—most horses would have none of it—and Lord Akeldama disdained the sport as disastrous to one’s hair. “Dolly, I adore this plan! Alexia, sugar drop, you must make over your town house to complement mine. Robin’s-egg blue with silver detailing, don’t you think? We could plant lilac bushes. I do so love lilac bushes.”

Professor Lyall was not to be sidetracked. “Do you believe it will work?”

“Robin’s-egg blue and silver? Of course. It will look divine.

Alexia hid a smile.

“No.” Professor Lyall possessed infinite patience, whether dealing with Lord Maccon’s temper, Lord Akeldama’s purposeful obtuseness, or Lady Maccon’s antics. Being a Beta, Alexia figured, must be rather like being the world’s most tolerant butler. “Will having your vampire residence adjacent to a werewolf pack work?”

Lord Akeldama raised his monocle. Like Lyall’s spectacles, it was entirely artificial. But he did love the accessory so. He had several, set with different gemstones and in different metals to match any outfit.

The vampire regarded the two werewolves in his drawing room through the small circle of glass. “You are rather more civilized under my dear Alexia’s tutelage. I suppose it could be tolerated, so long as I do not have to dine with you. And, Lord Maccon, might we have words on the proper tying of a cravat? For my sanity’s sake?”

Lord Maccon was nonplussed.

Professor Lyall, on the other hand, was pained. “I do what I can.”

Lord Akeldama looked at him, pity in his eyes. “You are a brave man.”

Lady Maccon interjected at this juncture. “And you wouldn’t mind Conall and myself occasionally in residence?”

“If you see to the cravat situation, I suppose I could surrender yet another closet to the cause.”

Alexia swallowed down a broad grin and tried to be as serious as humanly possible. “You are a noble man.”

Lord Akeldama tilted his head in gracious acceptance of the accolade. “Whoever thought I would have a werewolf living in my closet?”

“Hobgoblins under the bed?” suggested Lady Maccon, allowing her grin to emerge.

“La, butterball, I should be so lucky.” A gleam entered the vampire’s eyes, and he brushed his blond hair flirtatiously off his neck. “I suppose your pack must spend a good deal of time underdressed?”

The earl rolled his eyes, but Professor Lyall was not above a little bribery. “Or not dressed at all.”

Lord Akeldama nodded in pleasure. “Oh, my darling boys are going to love this new arrangement. They often take a keen interest in remarking upon the activities of our neighbors.”

“Oh, dear,” muttered Lord Maccon under his breath.

Biffy remained unmentioned, although everyone was thinking about him. Alexia, being Alexia, decided she would bring the taboo subject out into the open. “Biffy is going to be pleased.”

Silence met that statement.

Lord Akeldama assumed a forced lightness of tone. “How is the newest member of the Woolsey Pack?”

In truth, Biffy was not adjusting as well as anyone would like. He still fought the change each month and refused to try shifting of his own volition. He obeyed Lord Maccon implicitly, but there was no joy in it. The result was that he was having trouble learning any modicum of control and had to be locked away more nights than not because of this weakness.

However, not being inclined to confide in a vampire, Lord Maccon only said gruffly, “The pup is well enough.”

Lady Maccon frowned. Had she and Lord Akeldama been alone, she might have said something to him of Biffy’s tribulations, but as it was, she let her husband handle it. If they, indeed, moved in to Lord Akeldama’s neighborhood and home, he would find out the truth of the matter soon enough.

She made a dictatorial gesture at Conall.

Rather like a trained dog—although no one would dare suggest the comparison to any werewolf—Lord Maccon stood, offering both his hands. He hoisted his wife to her feet. During the last few months, Alexia had taken to using him thus on multiple occasions.

Professor Lyall stood as well.

“So it’s decided?” Alexia looked at the three supernatural gentlemen.

They all nodded at her.

“Excellent. I shall have Floote make the arrangements. Professor, can you leak our relocation to the papers so that the vampires find out? Lord Akeldama, if you would use your very own special distribution methods as well?”

“Of course, my little dewdrop.

“At once, my lady.”

“You and I”—Lady Maccon grinned up at her husband, immersing herself, albeit briefly, in his tawny eyes—“have packing to do.”

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