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Rebecca Ide’s Followers (21)
Rebecca Ide
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The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
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published
2025
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9 editions
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* Note: these are all the books on 카지노싸이트 for this author. To add more, click here.
“I suppose it looks less like murder if you hang someone from a chandelier.”
Nic winced. “Can you stop saying that?”
“Saying what? Chandelier? I think they call it a lustre in France, but—”
“No, that’s what the dangly bits are called.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“What did you think they were called? Dangly bits?”
Leaf shrugged. “I’d honestly never thought about it, but I don’t see why you want me to stop saying chan— the c word.”
Laughing, he gripped her shoulders. “Leaf, stop talking and take a deep breath. I wasn’t trying to stop you from saying chandelier. Look, see? I said it. Chandelier. We have a lot of them in this house; I’d be in trouble if I didn’t like the word. Chan-de-lier.” With a flick of his fingers, he conjured a small ring of light that hovered in the air beside them, its miniature candles flickering.
“Oh, that’s so pretty. You’re really good at that.”
“Mere showiness, I assure you.”
Leaf stared at his conjured chandelier as it twinkled and faded into the dust motes. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we need to know for sure whether Gillingham was murdered. Else every other question is pointless.”
“You see, that was the very word I wanted you to stop saying.”
Leaf looked entirely baffled. “Which word?”
“Murder. And murdered. And murderer. And—⿒
“What would you rather I call it? Premeditated life extinguishing?”
“You know what? Forget I said anything.”
“I can do that, but will it give me my five minutes back?”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
Nic winced. “Can you stop saying that?”
“Saying what? Chandelier? I think they call it a lustre in France, but—”
“No, that’s what the dangly bits are called.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“What did you think they were called? Dangly bits?”
Leaf shrugged. “I’d honestly never thought about it, but I don’t see why you want me to stop saying chan— the c word.”
Laughing, he gripped her shoulders. “Leaf, stop talking and take a deep breath. I wasn’t trying to stop you from saying chandelier. Look, see? I said it. Chandelier. We have a lot of them in this house; I’d be in trouble if I didn’t like the word. Chan-de-lier.” With a flick of his fingers, he conjured a small ring of light that hovered in the air beside them, its miniature candles flickering.
“Oh, that’s so pretty. You’re really good at that.”
“Mere showiness, I assure you.”
Leaf stared at his conjured chandelier as it twinkled and faded into the dust motes. “Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that we need to know for sure whether Gillingham was murdered. Else every other question is pointless.”
“You see, that was the very word I wanted you to stop saying.”
Leaf looked entirely baffled. “Which word?”
“Murder. And murdered. And murderer. And—⿒
“What would you rather I call it? Premeditated life extinguishing?”
“You know what? Forget I said anything.”
“I can do that, but will it give me my five minutes back?”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
“They’re automata. They were originally part of the old grotto display, before they were broken up. I forgot there were some here.”
“They’re so creepy.”
Nic stared at the blank white faces. “I guess.”
“You don’t think they’re creepy?”
“Not really. They don’t work unless you wind them and they need a smithed reel to do anything interesting. These are just scrap. I often dig through the piles in the grotto for working pieces to make my own automata.”
“What sort? Not like this, I hope.”
“No, more like frogs that can hop about or mechanical echoes that move their wings. And clocks. Lots of clocks that tell the time in different ways. It’s important to visualize life passing you by in as many ways as possible.”
“See, these are the sorts of things that ought to go in the preliminary notes. ‘Has morose sense of humour. Likes to conjure. House has an army of creepy broken automata. Doesn’t appreciate being likened to silverware.”
“Spoons just aren’t very gay.”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
“They’re so creepy.”
Nic stared at the blank white faces. “I guess.”
“You don’t think they’re creepy?”
“Not really. They don’t work unless you wind them and they need a smithed reel to do anything interesting. These are just scrap. I often dig through the piles in the grotto for working pieces to make my own automata.”
“What sort? Not like this, I hope.”
“No, more like frogs that can hop about or mechanical echoes that move their wings. And clocks. Lots of clocks that tell the time in different ways. It’s important to visualize life passing you by in as many ways as possible.”
“See, these are the sorts of things that ought to go in the preliminary notes. ‘Has morose sense of humour. Likes to conjure. House has an army of creepy broken automata. Doesn’t appreciate being likened to silverware.”
“Spoons just aren’t very gay.”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
“I’m sorry. I wish none of this had happened, especially under my roof and in the process of negotiating our marriage.”
“It does feel very inauspicious, doesn’t it? Although perhaps people will say it’s lucky in a perverse way, like how they say it’s actually lucky when a bird does its business on you.”
“I can confirm that there is nothing lucky about getting covered in bird droppings, and I should know, given how many birds we have. I’ve never understood why people say that.”’
Leaf took a large mouthful of wine and turned from contemplation of the fire. “I think people say it because they’re uncomfortable dealing with another’s distress, so they would rather pretend the cause doesn’t exist and tell everyone they should actually be grateful for suffering.”
“That feels disturbingly accurate.”
“Doesn’t it, though.”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
“It does feel very inauspicious, doesn’t it? Although perhaps people will say it’s lucky in a perverse way, like how they say it’s actually lucky when a bird does its business on you.”
“I can confirm that there is nothing lucky about getting covered in bird droppings, and I should know, given how many birds we have. I’ve never understood why people say that.”’
Leaf took a large mouthful of wine and turned from contemplation of the fire. “I think people say it because they’re uncomfortable dealing with another’s distress, so they would rather pretend the cause doesn’t exist and tell everyone they should actually be grateful for suffering.”
“That feels disturbingly accurate.”
“Doesn’t it, though.”
― The Gentleman and His Vowsmith
Topics Mentioning This Author
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| Hooked on Books : Lazy River Readers | 361 | 59 | Jul 02, 2025 05:54PM |
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