The Parasol Protectorate Boxed Set Read Free Page B

came into the library for tea. I was promised food at this ball. In case you had not noticed, no food appears to be in
residence.”
    Lord Maccon who required a considerable amount of fuel, mostly of the protein inclination, had noticed. “The Duke of Snodgrove
is notoriously reticent about any additional expenditure at his wife’s balls. Victuals were probably not on the list of acceptable
offerings.” He sighed. “The man owns half of Berkshire and cannot even provide a decent sandwich.”
    Miss Tarabotti made an empathetic movement with both hands. “My point precisely! So you will understand that I had to resort
to ordering my own repast. Did you expect me to starve?”
    The earl gave her generous curves a rude once-over, observed that Miss Tarabotti was nicely padded in exactly the right places,
and refused to be suckered into becoming sympathetic. He maintained his frown. “I suspect that is precisely what the vampire
was thinking when he found you
without a chaperone
. An unmarried female alone in a room in this enlightened day and age! Why, if the moon had been full, even I would have attacked
you!”
    Alexia gave him the once-over and reached for her brass parasol. “My dear sir, I should like to see you try.”
    Being Alpha made Lord Maccon a tad unprepared for such bold rebuttals, even with his Scottish past. He blinked at her in surprise
for a split second and then resumed the verbal attack. “You do realize modern social mores exist for a reason?”
    â€œI was hungry, allowances should be made,” Alexia said, as if that settled the matter, unable to understand why he persisted
in harping on about it.
    Professor Lyall, unobserved by the other two, was busy fishing about in his waistcoat for something. Eventually, he produced
a mildly beaten-up ham and pickle sandwich wrapped in a bit of brown paper. He presented it to Miss Tarabotti, ever the gallant.
    Under normal circumstances, Alexia would have been put off by the disreputable state of the sandwich, but it was meant so
kindly and offered with such diffidence, she could do nothing but accept. It was actually rather tasty.
    â€œThis is delicious!” she stated, surprised.
    Professor Lyall grinned. “I keep them around for when his lordship gets particularly testy. Such offerings keep the beast
under control for the most part.” He frowned and then added a caveat. “Excepting at full moon, of course. Would that a nice
ham and pickle sandwich was all it took then.”
    Miss Tarabotti perked up, interested. “What do you
do
at full moon?”
    Lord Maccon knew very well Miss Tarabotti was getting off the point intentionally. Driven beyond endurance, he resorted to
use of her first name. “Alexia!” It was a long, polysyllabic, drawn-out growl.
    She waved the sandwich at him. “Uh, do you want half of this, my lord?”
    His frown became even darker, if such a thing could be conceived.
    Professor Lyall pushed his glassicals up onto the brim of his top hat, where they looked like a strange second set of mechanical
eyes, and stepped into the breach. “Miss Tarabotti, I do not believe you quite realize the delicacy of this situation. Unless
we can establish strong grounds for self-defense by proving the vampire was behaving in a wholly irrational manner, you could
be facing murder charges.”
    Alexia swallowed her bite of sandwich so quickly she partly choked and started to cough. “What?”
    Lord Maccon turned his fierce frown on his second. “Now who is being too direct for the lady’s sensibilities?”
    Lord Maccon was relatively new to the London area. He had arrived a social unknown, challenged for Woolsey Castle Alpha, and
won. He gave young ladies heart palpitations, even outside his wolf form, with a favorable combination of mystery, preeminence,
and danger. Having acquired the BUR post, Woolsey Castle, and noble rank from the dispossessed former