When in doubt, bluff.

Yes, she was a scandal.
Her brother simply didn’t know it.
“I fell in the Serpentine today.”
“Yes, well, that doesn’t usually happen to women in London. But it’s not so much of a scandal as it is a challenge.

Would you like to cross another item off this list today?"

"I should like that very much. Which do you propose?"

"I think it's time to try riding astride".

"You can't mean..."

"Oh, but I do, indeed, mean, Empress.

What does Éloa mean?”

He narrowed his gaze, answered her literally. “It’s the name of an angel.”

Penelope tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“Was he a fallen angel?”

“She was, yes.” He hesitated, not wanting to tell her the story, but unable to stop himself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.”

“Tricked her how?”

He met her gaze. “She fell in love with him.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. “Did he love her?”

Like an addict loves his addiction. “The only way he knew how.”

She shook her head. “How could he trick her?”

“He never told her his name.

I had a perfect life in my reach once, and it was a crashing bore. Perfect is too clean, too easy. I don't want perfect any more than I want to be perfect. I want imperfect.

Alas, summer sun can't last forever. The days will grow cooler and shorter, and our skin will once again pale.