Inspirational quotes by Suzanne Enoch.
Reg: Speaking of blunt, dinner is on my bill tonight, mes amis.Alex: What's the occasion?Augustus: Lady Caroline's agreed to venture out on a picnic with out intrepid hero. Kit: I don't know why you keep insisting she's smitten with me. I've barely spoken five sentences to her.Augustus: It's very simple. Reg has thrown his entire being into pleasing Caroline. She knows every nuance of his thought and character. You, however, are a mystery to be explored, solved, and resolved.
Everton" (Francis)Alex turned his head to view a rainbow peacock mask bobbing toward him. "Good Lord, Francis, you are replendent," he said admiringly.The peacock stopped beside him. "Dash it, Everton, how'd you know it was me?"You're still wearing your faux ruby ring.
Reg: Furth's in London. And yes, I know, it's my fault. But as long as I'ver roused the lion, I was going to ask you to speak to him on my behalf.Alex: You wish me to speak to Furth.Reg: Well, yes. He's always like you. Just tell him what a noble, upright fellow I am, and how I have always upheld my position with dignity and respect.Alex: Lie, you mean.REg: Whatever it takes.
For a long moment the butler sat in silence, his jaw hanging open. “I . . . my lord, I simply don't feel qualified to advise you about such matters.”“Don't tell me that,” Saint protested. “Tell me whether you can imagine me as a married man or not.”To his surprise, the butler set aside his brandy snifter and sat forward. “My lord, I do not wish to overstep my bounds, but I have noticed a change in your demeanor of late. The question of whether anyone can imagine you married or not, however, is one I believe must be answered by you. And the lady, of course.”Saint frowned. “Coward.”“There is that, as well.
He lowered his head toward her, so she could feel his breath warm againsther skin, their mouths only inches apart. “You’re panting for it, aren’t you,Princess?” he murmured.
If he needed an answer about how much he'd changed, that provided it. He didn't want Fatima Hynes or any other nameless female with vacant eyes and an ample bosom. He didn't want anyone else, ever. He wanted Evelyn Marie Ruddick—and he'd be damned if he was going to let Neckcloth Alvington have her without a fight. And if there was one thing he knew how to do better than anyone else in London, it was how to fight dirty
Has anyone ever told you that you're unbearably rude?" she returned, facing him again."Why, yes. You have on several occasions, as I recall. If you care to apologize for that, however, I'll be happy to escort you wherever you wish to go."A flush crept up her cheeks, coloring her delicate, ivory skin. "I will never apologize to you," she snapped. "And you may go straight to Hades."He hadn't expected her to apologize, yet he couldn't help suggesting it every so often. "Very well. Upstairs, first door on the left. I'll be in Hades, if you should require my services.
He wrote you a poem?" Evelyn looped her hand around Georgiana's arm and led the way to the chairs lining one side of the room."He did." Grateful to see Luxley select one of the debutantes as his next victim, Georgiana accepted a glass of Madeira from one of the footman. After three hours of quadrilles, waltzes, and country dances, her feet ached. "And you know what rhymes with Georgiana, don't you?"Evelyn wrinkled her brow, her gray eyes twinkling. "No, what?""Nothing. He just put 'iana' after every ending word. In iambic trimeter, yet. 'Oh, Georgiana, your beauty is my sunlightiana, your hair is finer than goldiana, your—' "Lucinda made a choking sound.
Do you have nicknames for any of your other brothers?"The youngster squinted his dark gray eyes in concentration. "Well, Tristan is Dare, and sometimes he's Tris; and Bradshaw is Shaw; and sometimes we call Andrew, Drew, but he doesn't like that very much.""Why not?""He says it's a girls' name, and then Shaw calls him Drusilla.
I would like to point out, though, Lady Georgiana," he continued, "that you have decided to stay in a household with five single gentlemen, three of them adults.""Four," Andrew broke in, coloring. "I'm seventeen. That's older than Romeo was when he married Juliet.""And it's younger than I am, which is what counts," Tristan countered, sending his brother a stern look.
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