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Gail Carriger -
Maccon
Quotes
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Lady Maccon cogitated. She would like to encourage this new spirit of social-mindedness. If Felicity needed anything in her life, it was a cause. Then she might stop nitpicking everyone else.
Gail Carriger
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Lord Akeldama sighed. 'You lovebirds, how will I endure such flirtations constantly in my company? How déclassé, Lord Maccon, to love your own wife.'
Gail Carriger
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Which was why, some six hours later, Alexia Maccon's daughter was born inside the head of an octomaton in the presence of her husband, a comatose werewolf dandy, and a French inventor.
Gail Carriger
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Please, Lord Maccon, use one of the cups. My delicate sensibilities. The earl actually snorted. My dear Miss Tarabotti, if you possessed any such things, you certainly have never shown them to me.
Gail Carriger
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Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn't suit you. The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. I am exploring new personality avenues. Well, stop it. Yes, my lady.
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No, Lord Maccon was riproaring, tumble down, without a doubt, pickled beyond the gherkin.
Gail Carriger
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Oh, Lady Maccon, I am unreservedly in love with her. That black hair, that sweet disposition, those capital hats.
Gail Carriger
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Lord Maccon looked up. Grovel, you say? Lyall did not glance away from the latest vampire report he was perusing. Grovel, my lord.
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She reached inside the wide ruffle and pulled out a little vial. Poison? asked Lady Maccon, tilting her head to one side. Certainly not. Something far more important: perfume. We cannot very well have you fighting crime unscented, now, can we? Oh. Alexia nodded gravely. After all, Madame Lefoux was French. Certainly not.
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Lady Maccon. By George, Boots! How the deuce can you possibly tell that there is Lady Maccon? queried the other top-hated gentleman. Who else would be standing in the middle of a street on full-moon night with a raging ruddy fire behind her, waving a parasol about? Good point, good point.
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She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. You are an unfeeling —poke — traitorous —poke— mistrusting —poke— rude —poke — booby! Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn't seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. You put it very well, my love.
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Lord Maccon believed that if his trousers were on his legs, and something else was on his torso, he was dressed. The less done after that, the better. His wife had been startled to find that in the summertime, he actually went around their room barefoot! Once — and only once, mind you — he even attempted to join her for tea in such a state. Impossible man. Alexia put a stop to that posthaste.
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Alexia, did you know there is an entire regiment decamping on your front lawn? Laddy Maccon sighed. "Really, Ivy, I would never have noticed.
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Alexia suspected Lord Maccon's handling was a tad more than was strictly called for under the circumstances, but she secretly enjoyed the sensation. After all, how often did a spinster of her shelf life get manhandled by an earl of Lord Maccon's peerage? She had better take advantage of the situation.
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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.
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Lord Maccon was built like a brick outhouse, with opinions twice as unmoving and often equally full of crap.
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Lord Maccon reflected upon the state of his life wherein he had somehow gained a spouse who could not give a pig's foot for the latest dresses out of Paris but who whined about not owning an aethographic transmitter. Well, at least the two were comparable obsessions so far as expense was concerned.
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Lord Maccon asked meekly, shifting against her in a manner that ensured she realized the nibbling had affected his outsides just as much as her insides. Alexia was partly shocked, partly intrigued by the idea that as he was naked, she might actually get to see what he looked like. She had seen sketches of the nude male, of course, for purely technical purposes. She was given to wonder if werewolves were anatomically bigger in certain areas.
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Very well, Lord Maccon. If we are going to play this particular hand, would you be interested in becoming my... Mistress?
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I Preserve the nonviable embryo in formaldehyde for future study. Lord Maccon has been drinking my samples. When confronted, he admitted to be enjoying both the refreshing beverage and the 'crunchy pickled snack' as well. I was not pleased" (Professor Lyall to Madame Lefoux)
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Later on Lady Maccon was to describe that particular day as the worst of her life. She had neither the soul nor the romanticism to consider childbirth magical or emotionally transporting. So far as she could gather it mostly involved pain indignity and mess. There was nothing engaging or appealing about the process. And as she told her husband firmly she intended never to go through it again.
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As with most things in life, Lady Maccon preferred the civilized exterior to the dark underbelly (with the exception of pork products, of course.)
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Lady Maccon stopped suddenly. Her husband got four long strides ahead before he realized she had paused. She was starring thoughtfully up into the aether, twirling the deadly parasol about her head. "I have just remembered something," Alexia said when he returned to her side. "Oh, that explains everything. How foolish of me to think you could walk and remember at the same time.
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Madame Lefoux acted as midwife. In her scientific way, she was unexpectedly adept at the job. When the infant finally appeared, she held it up for Alexia to see, rather proudly, as though she'd done all the hard work herself. 'Goodness,' said an exhausted Lady Maccon, 'are babies customarily that repulsive looking?
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Hello, princess, said Lord Maccon to the vampire. Got yourself into quite a pickle this time, didn't you? Lord Akeldama looked him up and down. My sweet young naked boy, you are hardly one to talk. Not that I mind, of course.
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Someone was trying to kill Lady Alexia Maccon. It was most inconvenient, as she was in a dreadful hurry. Given her previous familiarity with near-death experiences and their comparative frequency with regards to her good self, Alexia should probably have allowed extra time for such a predictable happenstance.
Gail Carriger
Quote of the day
When the moon is in the seventh house, And Jupiter aligns with Mars, Then peace will guide the planets, And love will steer the stars; This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius.
James Rado
Gail Carriger
Creative Commons
Born:
May 4, 1976
(age 48)
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