I sat down and put my fingertips to my temples, rubbing hard. “We have one fallen tree, one destroyed Rookery, one delusional butler and no good brandy. Is that what you are telling me?”
“And the cook’s down with piles and more than half the staff are suffering from catarrh,” she added maliciously.
I looked to Brisbane, who was smiling broadly. “God bless us, everyone,” he said, spreading his arms wide.

Autore: Deanna Raybourn