“My dearest girl, this is a good design point, not a bad one. You should accentuate your best features.”

“No, honestly, my lord, these days I—how to put this?—overflow. It’s terribly incommodious.” Alexia made a kind of flip-forward gesture with both hands at her bosom area. Always substantial, that particular region had expanded to near scenic proportions over the last few months. Lord Maccon was delighted. Lady Maccon found it ridiculous. As if I weren’t well enough endowed to start with!

“Ah, yes. I do see your point, periwinkle.” He moved on.

“You were saying, about Professor Lyall?”

“What I mean to articulate, honey bee, is that there are levels of deviation. Some of us are, shall we say, more experimental than others in our tastes. In some, I believe it is a matter of boredom, in others it is nature, and for still others it is indifference.” The vampire’s tone of voice was filled with the usual airy flippancy, but Alexia had a feeling this was something he had studied much over the centuries. Also, Lord Akeldama never doled out information without good reason.

The vampire continued to prattle on as he sorted through her wardrobe without looking up at her, as though he were having a conversation with the dresses. “So few are lucky enough to love where they will. Or unlucky, I suppose.” Finally, he selected a walking outfit comprised of a ruffled purple skirt, cream blouse, and square cropped Spanish jacket in mauve. Despite the fact that there was very little trim, something about it clearly appealed to him. Alexia was delighted with this choice, as the outfit coordinated with one of her favorite hats, a little mauve bowler with a purple ostrich feather.

He brought it over to her and held it up, nodding. “Excellent palette for your coloring, my little Italian pastry. Did our Biffy help you order this?” Without waiting for confirmation, he continued his previous discussion with studied casualness. “Your Professor Lyall is one of those.”

“One of the indifferent ones?”

“Ah, no, petal, one of those who has no particular preferences.”

“And Boots?” Alexia held very still as the vampire moved around behind her, very much like a real maid, and began lacing up the back of the skirt.

“Boots is another one.”

Lady Maccon thought she understood what he was trying to say but was determined to ensure things were as clear as possible. Lord Akeldama may enjoy prevarications and euphemisms, but no one had ever accused Alexia of being coy. “Are you telling me, my lord, that Boots enjoys the company of both men and women?”

The vampire came back around to the front and cocked his head to one side, as though more interested in the fit of the jacket than their conversation. “I know, peculiar of him, isn’t it, my little pigeon? But I and mine, possibly more than anyone else in London, do not presume to judge the predilections of others.” He bent forward to tidy the fall of the bow at Alexia’s neck. Then he had her sit while he fussed with stockings.