Julia Quinn

“Don't settle. Know what you want and reach for it. And if you don't know what you want, be patient.The answers willcome to you in time, and you may find that your heart s desire has been right under your nose all thewhile.”

“A man with charm is an entertaining thing, and a man with looks is, ofcourse, a sight to behold, but a man with honor - ah, he is the one, dear reader, to which young ladies should flock.”

“Every unmarried man is looking for a wife. They just don't always know it.”

“Nothing like trapping the gentlemen where they couldn't get away.”

“It wasn't one of my favorite boots," Marcus said, trying to cheer Miss Royle up. She looked as if someone had decapitated a puppy.”

“I shall have one, too," he told her. "So that you don't feel alone."She tried not to smile. "That is most generous of you.""I am quite certain it is my gentlemanly duty.""To eat cake?""It is one of the more appealing of my gentlemanly duties," he allowed.”

“He’d spent his life being a perfect gentleman. He’d never been a flirt. He’d never been a rogue. He hated being the center of attention, but by God, he wanted to be the center of her attention. He wanted to do the wrong thing, the bad thing. He wanted to pull her into his arms and carry her to her bed. He wanted to peel every last inch of her clothing from her body, and then he wanted to worship her. He wanted to show her all the things he wasn’t sure he knew how to say.”

“He loved her.He wanted her.He needed her.And he needed her now.”

“Your heart is free now." "No," he whispered. "It's yours.”

“I thought that I needed a church and hundreds of guests and music thatactually sounded like music, but I was wrong.What I needed was a drunken priest, irreverent guests, and a companionwho learned to play piano from a goat." "Then you got exactly what you needed." "I suppose so. But then again, all I really needed was you.”

“Well,” she finally said, “he’s coming back shortly, so you are absolved of your responsibilities.” “No.” The word came from him like an oath, emerging from the very core of his being. She looked at him in impatient confusion. “What do you mean?” He stepped forward. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He knew only that he couldn’t stop. “I mean no. I don’t want to be absolved.” Her lips parted. He took another step. His heart was pounding, and something within him had gone hot, and greedy, and if there was anything in the world besides her, besides him—he did not know it. “I want you,” he said, the words blunt, and almost harsh, but absolutely, indelibly true. “I want you,” he said again, and he reached out and took her hand. “I want you.” “Marcus, I—” “I want to kiss you,” he said, and he touched one finger to her lips. “I want to hold you.” And then, because he couldn’t have kept it inside for one second longer, he said, “I burn for you.” He took her face in his hands and he kissed her. He kissed her with everything that had been building within him, every last aching, hungry burst of desire. Since the moment he had realized he loved her, this passion had been growing within him. It had probably been there all along, just waiting for him to realize it. He loved her.”

“In his heart, she’d been smiling for him.But now she was smiling at Colin Bridgerton, he of the famous charm and sparkling green eyes.”

“And then, well . . . He might have slept for a bit. He rather hoped he was sleeping, because he was quite certain he’d seen a six-foot rabbit hopping through his bedchamber, and if that wasn’t a dream, they were all in very big trouble. Although really, it wasn’t the rabbit that was so dangerous as much as the giant carrot he was swinging about like a mace. That carrot would feed an entire village.”

“He wasn’t sure how he ought to feel about this. On the other hand . . . boiled meat!”

“No. Haven’t you been listening?” Marcus would always remember that moment. It was to be the first time he would ever be faced with that most vexing of female quirks: the question that had nothing but wrong answers.”

“Everyone has secrets. Especially me.”

“Mother,” Hyacinth said, pausing for slightly longer than normal to steal a bit of time to organize her thoughts, “I am not going to chase after Mr. St. Clair. He’s not at all the right sort of man for me.”“I’m not certain you’d know the right sort of man for you if he arrived on our doorstep riding an elephant.”“I would think the elephant would be a fairly good indication that I ought to look elsewhere.”

“Miss. My. Wife.”

“No, of course not," Belle said, playfully swatting him on the shoulder. "I never, never even once thought I was making a mistake. I was just a bit at odds with myself because my wedding wasn't exactly how I dreamed it was going to be.""I'm sorry," John said softly."No, no, don't be. Just because it wasn't what I thought I wanted doesn't mean it wasn't absolutely perfect. Oh, dear, am I making any sense at all.?"John nodded solemnly."I thought that I needed a church and hundreds of guest and music that actually sounded like music, but I was wrong. What I needed was a drunken priest, irreverent guests, and a companion who learned to play piano from a goat.""Then you got exactly what you needed.""I suppose so. But then again, all I really needed was you."John leaned down to kiss her again, and they remained thus occupied for the next hour.”

“My love has eyes blue as the sky.Her warm, bright smile makes me want to tryTo give her the world,And when she's curledUp in my arms where I can feel her touch,I realize again that I love her so much.My world has turned from black to white.Kissing in starlight, basking in sunlight, dancing at midnight.'~John's poem for Belle”

“No, Belle needed him. He had to save her from a disastrous marriage. And then, he supposed, he'd simply marry her himself.John wasn't unaware that he was about to pull one of the greatest about-faces in history. He could only hope that Belle would understand that he had realized she'd had been right all along. People made mistakes, didn't they? After all, he wasn't some infallible storybook hero.”

“I think you're going to break more hearts this spring than I'll be able to count.""It isn't your job to count them," he said, his voice quiet and hard."No, it isn't, is it?" She looked over at him and smile wryly. "But I'm going to end up doing it all the same, won't I?""And why is that?"She didn't seem to have an answer to that, and then, just when he was sure she would say no more, she whispered, "Because I won't be able to stop myself.”

“I am asking you to marry me because I love you,” he said, “because I cannot imagine living my life without you. I want to see your face in the morning, and then at night, and a hundred times in between. I want to grow old with you, I want to laugh with you, and I want to sigh to my friends about how managing you are, all the while secretly knowing I am the luckiest man in town.”“What?” she demanded.He shrugged. “A man’s got to keep up appearances. I’ll be universally detested if everyone realizes how perfect you are.”

“Rehearsels, actually.""Rehearsals?""For the-"Oh,no."-musicale."The Smythe-Smith musical.It finished off what the Crusades had begun.There wasn't a man alive who could maintain a romantic thought when faced with the memory-or the threat-of a Smythe-Smith musicale.”

“Let it be said, Marcus thought dryly,that nothing cooled a man's ardor like the Crusades.”

“The eggs were extremely interesting, as was the bacon,and the hydrangeas outside the window were absolutely fascinating. hydrangeas.who would have imagined?”

“She grimaced. Her mother and father were probablygiggling and whispering and ducking into a darkenedcorner. Good heavens. It was downright embarrassing.”

“Speaking of which,” he murmured.Hyacinth’s mouth fell open as he dropped down to oneknee. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, franticallylooking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peekingout at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.“Someone will see,” she whispered.He seemed unconcerned. “People will say we’re inlove.”“I—” Good heavens, but how did a woman argueagainst that?“Hyacinth Bridgerton,” he said, taking her hand in his,“will you marry me?”She blinked in confusion. “I already said I would.”“Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.They were mostly the right reasons, but not all.”“I—I—” She was stumbling on the words, choking onthe emotion.He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear andblue in the dim light of the streetlamps. “I am asking youto marry me because I love you,” he said”

“I love you, too,” she said.He took her face in his hands and kissed her, once,deeply, on the mouth. “I mean,” he said, “I really loveyou.”She quirked a brow. “Is this a contest?”“It is anything you want,” he promised.She grinned, that enchanting, perfect smile that was soquintessentially hers. “I feel I must warn you, then,” shesaid, cocking her head to the side. “When it comes tocontests and games, I always win.”“Always?”Her eyes grew sly. “Whenever it matters.”He felt himself smile, felt his soul lighten and his worriesslip away. “And what, precisely, does that mean?”“It means,” she said, reaching up and undoing the buttonsof her coat, “that I really really love you.”

“Say whatever is in your heart,” Violet said. Her lipstwisted wryly. “And if that doesn’t work, I suggest thatyou take a book and knock him over the head with it.”Hyacinth blinked, then blinked again. “I beg your pardon.”“I didn’t say that,” Violet said quickly.Hyacinth felt herself smile. “I’m rather certain youdid.”“Do you think?” Violet murmured, concealing her ownsmile with her teacup.“A large book,” Hyacinth queried, “or small?”“Large, I think, don’t you?”Hyacinth nodded. “Have we The Complete Works ofShakespeare in the library?”Violet’s lips twitched. “I believe that we do.”Something began to bubble in Hyacinth’s chest. Somethingvery close to laughter. And it felt so good to feel itagain.“I love you, Mother,” she said, suddenly consumed bythe need to say it aloud. “I just wanted you to know that.”“I know, darling,” Violet said, and her eyes were shiningbrightly. “I love you, too.”

“I’m trying to embroider.” Hyacinth held up her handiworkas proof.“You’re trying to avoid—” Her mother stopped, blinking.“I say, why does that flower have an ear?”“It’s not an ear.” Hyacinth looked down. “And it’s not aflower.”“Wasn’t it a flower yesterday?”“I have a very creative mind,” Hyacinth ground out,giving the blasted flower another ear.“That,” Violet said, “has never been in any doubt.”Hyacinth looked down at the mess on the fabric. “It’s atabby cat,” she announced. “I just need to give it a tail.”

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” Violet askedgently.Hyacinth shook her head. How did one share somethingsuch as this with one’s mother?—Oh, yes, by the by and in case you’re interested, ithas recently come to my attention that my affianced husbandasked me to marry him because he wished to infuriatehis father.—Oh, and did I mention that I am no longer a virgin?No getting out of it now!No, that wasn’t going to work”

“I’ll talk to my mother,” she promised. “If I’m sufficientlyannoying, I’m sure I can get the engagement periodcut in half.”“It makes me wonder,” he said. “As your future husband,should I be concerned by your use of the phrase ifI’m sufficiently annoying?”“Not if you accede to all of my wishes.”“A sentence that concerns me even more,” he murmured.She did nothing but smile.”

“You’re a bundle of questionsthis afternoon, aren’t you?”“I wouldn’t have to be,” she retorted, clearly regainingher wits, “if you’d actually say something of substance.”“Until next time, Miss Bridgerton,” he murmured, slippingout into the hall.“But when?” came her exasperated voice.He laughed all the way out.”

“Gareth turned to Gregory. “Your sister will be safewith me,” he said. “I give you my vow.”“Oh, I have no worries on that score,” Gregory saidwith a bland smile. “The real question is—will you besafe with her?”It was a good thing, Gareth later reflected, that Hyacinthhad already quit the room to fetch her coat and hermaid. She probably would have killed her brother on thespot.”

“I cannot feel like a duchess in mymother’s sitting room.”“What do you feel like, then?”“Hmmm.” She took a sip of her tea. “Just DaphneBridgerton, I suppose. It’s difficult to shed the surname inthis clan. In spirit, that is.”“I hope that is a compliment,” Lady Bridgerton remarked.Daphne just smiled at her mother. “I shall never escapeyou, I’m afraid.” She turned to Gareth. “There is nothing like one’s family to make one feel like one has nevergrown up.”

“Children,” Lady Bridgerton said with a sigh as she retookher seat. “I am never quite certain if I’m glad I hadthem.”

“So he decided to stay out of it and instead turned backto Lady Bridgerton, who was, as it happened, the closestperson to him, anyway. “And how are you this afternoon?”he asked.Lady Bridgerton gave him a very small smile as shehanded him his cup of tea. “Smart man,” she murmured.“It’s self-preservation, really,” he said noncommittally.“Don’t say that. They wouldn’t hurt you.”“No, but I’m sure to be injured in the cross fire.”

“Do you know what is nice about friendships as longstandingas ours?” Hyacinth interrupted.Felicity shook her head.“You won’t take permanent offense when I turn myback and walk away.”And then Hyacinth did just that.”

“Don’t look so upset,” Hyacinth said, once it was justthe two of them again. “You’re quite a catch.”He looked at her assessingly. “Is one meant to say suchthings quite so directly?”She shrugged. “Not to men one is trying to impress.”“Touché, Miss Bridgerton.”She sighed happily. “My three favorite words.”Of that, he had no doubt.”

“But that’s not what I’m trying to tell you,” Violet said, her eyes taking on a slightly determined expression. “What I’m trying to say is that when you were born, and they put you into my arms—it’s strange, because for some reason I was so convinced you would look just like your father. I thought for certain I would look down and see his face, and it would be some sort of sign from heaven.”Hyacinth’s breath caught as she watched her, and she wondered why her mother had never told her this story. And why she’d never asked.“But you didn’t,” Violet continued. “You looked rather like me. And then—oh my, I remember this as if it were yesterday—you looked into my eyes, and you blinked. Twice.”“Twice?” Hyacinth echoed, wondering why this was important.“Twice.” Violet looked at her, her lips curving into a funny little smile. “I only remember it because you looked so deliberate. It was the strangest thing. You gave me a look as if to say, ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’ ”A little burst of air rushed past Hyacinth’s lips, and she realized it was a laugh. A small one, the kind that takes a body by surprise.“And then you let out a wail,” Violet said, shaking her head. “My heavens, I thought you were going to shake the paint right off the walls. And I smiled. It was the first time since your father died that I smiled.”Violet took a breath, then reached for her tea. Hyacinth watched as her mother composed herself, wanting desperately to ask her to continue, but somehow knowing the moment called for silence.For a full minute Hyacinth waited, and then finally her mother said, softly, “And from that moment on, you were so dear to me. I love all my children, but you…” She looked up, her eyes catching Hyacinth’s. “You saved me.”Something squeezed in Hyacinth’s chest. She couldn’t quite move, couldn’t quite breathe. She could only watch her mother’s face, listen to her words, and be so very, very grateful that she’d been lucky enough to be her child.“In some ways I was a little too protective of you,” Violet said, her lips forming the tiniest of smiles, “and at the same time too lenient. You were so exuberant, so completely sure of who you were and how you fit into the world around you. You were a force of nature, and I didn’t want to clip your wings.”“Thank you,” Hyacinth whispered, but the words were so soft, she wasn’t even sure she’d said them aloud.”

“Of course none of those men was suitable. Half were after your fortune, and as for the other half—well, you would have reduced them to tears within a month.”“Such tenderness for your youngest child,” Hyacinth muttered. “It quite undoes me.”

“Mother,” Hyacinth said with a great show of solicitude,“you know I love you dearly—”“Why is it,” Violet pondered, “that I have come to expectnothing good when I hear a sentence beginning inthat manner?”

“He was a puzzle. And Hyacinth hated puzzles.Well, no, in truth she loved them.Provided, of course, that she solved them.”

“The two of you together are a menace,” Penelope remarked.“My aim in life,” Lady Danbury announced, “is to be amenace to as great a number of people as possible, so Ishall take that as the highest of compliments, Mrs.Bridgerton.”“Why is it,” Penelope wondered, “that you only call meMrs. Bridgerton when you are opining in a grand fashion?”“Sounds better that way,” Lady D said, punctuating herremark with a loud thump of her cane.”

“I do love it when I am right,” Hyacinth said triumphantly.“Which is fortunate, since I so often am.”Penelope just looked at her. “You do know that you areinsufferable.”“Of course.” Hyacinth leaned toward Penelope with adevilish smile. “But you love me, anyway, admit it.”“I admit nothing until the end of the evening.”“After we have both gone deaf?”“After we see if you behave yourself.”Hyacinth laughed. “You married into the family. Youhave to love me. It’s a contractual obligation.”“Funny how I don’t recall that in the wedding vows.”“Funny,” Hyacinth returned, “I remember it perfectly”

“The Smythe-Smith musicale. Thankfully, it came around just once per year, because Hyacinth was quitecertain it would take a full twelve months for her ears torecover.”

“It was a damned good thing men couldn’t have children. Gregory took no shame in admitting that thehuman race would have died out generations earlier.”

“You might wish to revisit your understanding of the word everything.” Gregory turned to his mother.“Vocabulary and comprehension were never her strong suits.”Violet rolled her eyes. “Every day I marvel that the two of you managed to reach adulthood.”“Afraid we’d kill each other?” Gregory quipped.“No, that I’d do the job myself.”

“Yes.” She sighed again, with even more drama, not that Gregory would have imagined it possible. “It isall so romantic,” she added. “The bride, the groom…”“Both are considered standard in the ceremony, I understand.”His mother shot him a peevish look. “How could I have raised a son who is so unromantic?”Gregory decided there could not possibly be an answer to that.”