Knockout by Sarah MacLean EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sarah MacLean
- Language: English
- Genre: Victorian Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The East End of London
January 1840
Lady Imogen Loveless enjoyed explosions.
To be clear, she was not a sadist. That an explosion might do bodily harm
of some kind was not pleasing to her. No, if she was pressed, she would say
that it was not exploded things that gave her joy, but rather the means by
which one exploded things.
Imogen liked bright flashes of light and waves of heat and the particular
smell and the sound—to the untrained ear a boom or a crackle or a hiss or a
whoosh, but more often than not, some magical combination that made
another word altogether. A ratatoon, a frizzle, a tweel-pop.
A body would be hard-pressed to find another in all of Britain who spent
as much time thinking about the sounds of an explosion as Imogen did.
(Her first word had been Bang!, though no one had been paying close
enough attention to hear it.)
As she was a lady, however, and an aristocratic one at that, few paid
attention to Imogen’s peculiar fascination—nor any of the many other
peculiar fascinations she’d accumulated over her twenty-four years of life.
In truth, most people ignored the fascinations altogether when discussing
the only sister of Earl Dorring, as peculiar was more than enough
description to make a lady unappealing.
Not that Imogen thought peculiar much of an insult. She’d been labeled
as such since birth, since her father brought her in pinafores to the Royal
Society of Chemistry, where she’d wandered off, combined quicklime and
water, and nearly burned the place down before the Earl was informed in no
uncertain terms that children—especially young ladies—were not allowed
inside the building.
Peculiar, they’d whispered as she toddled past, following her father into
the street as he roundly praised her experimentation.
Odd girl.
Too clever by half.
If Dorring’s not careful, she’ll turn out worse than too clever.
She’ll turn out to be too much.
And she had done just that. Lady Imogen Loveless was too much for
society and too much for her brother, who became her guardian after her
beloved father died when she was only sixteen, and far too much for any
suitor who might have darkened the doorstep of her home in Mayfair—
though none had as of that morning in January, one short month into her
twenty-fourth year.
Which suited Imogen down to the ground, as she’d much rather be too
much than the alternative. And if the wide world felt too much was not
enough for their balls and dinners and teas and company, then Imogen was
happy to be left to her workshop in the cellars of Dorring House with her
tinctures and tonics, and to her friends, who understood just how
entertaining and enterprising she could be with her tinctures and tonics.
No one ever discussed the sounds of explosions at tea.
So it was that on that January morning, just after dawn, the air brisk and
cold with the night that had not yet burned away, Imogen was at the site of
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