Julia Quinn

“Be careful what you wish for,her mind thundered.”

“Something she knew she did not have the right to ask him about. But she wished—oh, how shewished—that when he was ready to face his fears, she could be the one to help him.”

“sometimes there are reasons for our fears that we can’tquite explain. Sometimes it’s just something we feel in our bones, something we know to be true, butwould sound foolish to anyone else.”

“Doyou miss a parent you never knew?” he whispered.Kate considered his question for some time. His voice had held a hoarse urgency that told her there wassomething critical about her reply. Why, she couldn’t imagine, but something about her childhood clearlyrang a chord within his heart.“Yes,” she finally answered, “but not in the way you would think. You can’t really miss her, because youdidn’t know her, but there’s still a hole in your life—a big empty spot, and you know who was supposedto fit there, but you can’t remember her, and you don’t know what she was like, and so you don’t knowhow she would have filled that hole.” Her lips curved into asad sort of smile. “Does this make any sense?”Anthony nodded. “It makes a great deal of sense”

“It was funny, he reflected later, how one’s life could alter in aninstant, how oneminute everything could be a certain way, and the next it’s simply ... not”

“The ranks of society are once again filled with Ambitious Mamas, whoseonly aim is tosee their Darling Daughters married off to Determined Bachelors”

“Heartache, Daphne eventually learned, never really went away; it just dulled. The sharp, stabbing pain that one felt with each breath eventually gave way to a blunter, lower ache—the kind that one could almost—but never quite—ignore.”

“Daphne," he said with controlled gentleness, "what is wrong?"She sat down opposite him and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm so insensitive," she whispered. "I should have known. I should never have said anything.""Should have known what?" he ground out.Her hand fell away. "That you can't—that you couldn't—""Can't what?"She looked down at her lap, where her hands were attempting to wring each other to shreds. "Please don't make me say it," she said.'This," Simon muttered, "has got to be why men avoid marriage.”

“Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis.""He’s your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief."Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll.""Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured."Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.Colin shrugged. "Not really.""Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?""Gads, no. You must have misheard.""Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth."It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me.""You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage.""An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now that's an idea. And just when the party was growing tedious. Good eve to you both." He executed a smart bow and walked off.”

“Daphne Bridgerton, I don't—""—like my tone, I know." Daphne grinned. "But you love me."Violet smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around Daphne's shoulder. "Heaven help me, I do."Daphne gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. "It's the curse of motherhood. You're required to love us even when we vex you."Violet just sighed. "I hope that someday you have children—""—just like me, I know." Daphne smiled nostalgically and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her mother could be overly inquisitive, and her father had been more interested in hounds and hunting than he'd been in society affairs, but theirs had been a warm marriage, filled with love, laughter, and children. "I could do a great deal worse than follow your example, Mother," she murmured.”

“In three days," he continued, "I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?""You'll save me from marauding minotaurs?”

“Let me drive," she said, reaching for the reins.He turned to her in disbelief. "This is a phaeton, not a single-horse wagon."Sophie fought the urge to throttle him. His nose was running, his eyes were red, he couldn't stop coughing, and still he found the energy to act like an arrogant peacock. "I assure you," she said slowly, "that I know how to drive a team of horses.”

“She had been born for this man, and she had spent so many years trying to accept the fact that he had been born for someone else...”

“Before she knew what she was about, she was jumping about like a crazy woman, yelling, “Yes! Yes! I win!”“You don’t win,” Anthony snapped.“Oh, it feels like I’ve won,” she reveled.”

“James - "Are you paying attention or just trying to make me look like an idoit?"Elizabeth - "Oh, I'm definately paying attention. If you look like an idiot it has nothing to do with me.”

“Are you all right?” he asked Olivia. His heart was still racing with terror that she’d been hurt. “I heard a woman scream.”“Ah, that would have been me,” Sebastian said.Harry looked down on his cousin, face frozen in disbelief. “You made that noise?”“It hurt,” Sebastian bit off.Harry fought not to laugh. “You scream like a leettle girl.”

“Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron,” Sebastian said approvingly. “Excellent choice.”“You have read this?” Alexei asked.“It’s not as good as Miss Davenport and the Dark Marquis, of course, but worlds better than Miss Sainsbury and the Mysterious Colonel.”Harry found himself rendered speechless.“I’m reading Miss Truesdale and the Silent Gentleman right now.”“Silent?” Harry echoed.“There is a noticeable lack of dialogue,” Sebastian confirmed.”

“Sebastian,” Katarina said, turning to her nephew. “You’ve grown.” “It happens,” Sebastian quipped, flashing her his usual lopsided grin.“Goodness,” she said with smile, “you’ll be a danger to the ladies soon.”Harry very nearly rolled his eyes. Sebastian had already made conquests of nearly all the girls in the village near Hesslewhite. He must give off some sort of scent, because the females positively fell at his feet.It would have been appalling, except that the girls couldn’t all dance with Sebastian. And Harry was more than happy to be the nearest man standing when the smoke cleared.”

“His mouth captured hers, trying to show her with his kiss what he was still learning to express in words. He loved her. He worshipped her. He'd walk across fire for her. He——still had the audience of her three brothers.Slowly breaking the kiss, he turned his face to the side. Anthony, Benedict, and Colin were still standing in the foyer. Anthony was studying the ceiling, Benedict was pretending to inspect his fingernails, and Colin was staring quite shamelessly.”

“First of all, this goes no further than this room.""Agreed," she said quickly.Anthony looked pointedly at Simon."Of course," he replied."Mother would be devastated if she learned the truth.""Actually," Simon murmured, "I rather think your mother would applaud our ingenuity, but since you have quite obviously known her longer, I bow to your discretion."Anthony shot him a frosty look. "Second, under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. Ever.""Well, that should be easy," Daphne said, "as we wouldn't be allowed to be alone if we were courting in truth, anyway."Simon recalled their brief interlude in the hall at Lady Danbury's house, and found it a pity that he wasn't to be allowed any more private time with Daphne, but he recognized a brick wall when he saw one, especially when said wall happened to be named Anthony Bridgerton. So he just nodded and murmured his assent."Third—" "There is a third?" Daphne asked.            "There would be thirty if I could think of them," Anthony growled.                                        "Very well," she acceded, looking most aggrieved. "If you must.”

“You have a minute and a half left.""Fine," she snapped. "Then I'll reduce this conversation to one single fact. Today I had six callers. Six! Can you recall the last time I had six callers?"Anthony just stared at her blankly."I can't," Daphne continued, in fine form now. "Because it has never happened. Six men marched up our steps, knocked on our door, and gave Humboldt their cards. Six men brought me flowers, engaged me in conversation, and one even recited poetry."Simon winced."And do you know why?" she demanded, her voice rising dangerously. "Do you?"Anthony, in his somewhat belatedly arrived wisdom, held his tongue."It is all because he"—she jabbed her forefinger toward Simon—"was kind enough to feign interest in me last night at Lady Danbury's ball.”

“He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did youbring it?""My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?"His smile widened. "I brought mine."Daphne gasped. "You didn't!""I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass—""You don't have a quizzing glass."He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion.""Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me.""I'm counting on it.”

“Olivia: You didn't even know I was there!Harry: Excuse me, yes I did.”

“I also think he is given to disguises...Sometimes he wears spectacles and sometimes he does not. And twice he has worn an extremely peculiar hat. Inside.”

“And so Harry became proficient in the task of cleaning up vomit.”

“He smiled, and suddenly she knew that his words were true. Everything would be all right. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Tragedy couldn't coexist in a world with one of Colin's smiles.”

“Miranda was nineteen. Her experience with men consisted of Winston and himself. Both of whom hadheretofore been brotherly figures. The poor girl must be confused as hell. Winston had suddenly decidedthat she was Venus, Queen Elizabeth, and the Virgin Mary all rolled into one,and Turner had all butforced himself on her. Not exactly an average day in the life of a young country miss”

“I don't know whether to toss you through that window or shake your hand and say 'Well done'" Henry said in a tired voice.”

“Anthony sneezed and pushed them aside. "Mother, I am trying to have a conversation with the duke."Violet looked at Simon. "Do you want to have this conversation with my son?""Not particularly.""Fine, then. Anthony, be quiet.”

“The look Anthony shot at his sister was so comically malevolent Simon nearly laughed. He managed to restrain himself, but mostly just because he was fairly certain that any show of humor would cause Anthony's fist to lose its battle with his brain, with Simon's face emerging as the conflict's primary casualty.”

“He was the firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton eight times over. He had a dynastic responsibility to be fruitful and multiply.”

“He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it, of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned......But how could he manage to burn her dress? She’d have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself...”

“There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend's Sister.”

“I'm not a gentle pony... I promise you, you will have to work to keep your seat.”

“She wandered over to the enclosed range, a rather modern-looking contraption that Cook had purchased earlier in the year. “Do you know how to work this?” she asked.“No idea. You?”Daphne shook her head. “None.” She reached forward and gingerly touched the surface of the stove top. “It's not hot.”“Not even a little bit?”She shook her head. “It's rather cold, actually.”Brother and sister were silent for a few seconds.“You know,” Anthony finally said, “cold milk might be quite refreshing.”“I was just thinking that very thing!”

“In this room,in this minite,she was his everything”

“He would not give her up,he could not.For the first time in his life he'd found someone who filled all the empty spaces in his heart”

“Look at me," John gasped. "I cannot remember the last time I allowedmyself to be so happy. I smile all day long without knowing why. I climbed a bloody tree, vaulted through your window, and here I am—laughing.It's the middle of the night, and yet here I amwith you. Dancing at midnight, holding perfection in my arms." -John Blackwood to Arabella Blydon”

“She hated that she was still so desperate for a glimpse of him, but it had been this way for years.”

“Gregory,” she said, “you cannot leave me here. What if someone finds you and removes you from the house? Who will know I am here? And what if…and what if…and then what if…”He smiled, enjoying her officiousness too much to actually listen to her words. She was definitely herself again.“When this is all over,” he said, “I shall bring you a sandwich.”That stopped her short. “A sandwich? A sandwich?”

“This is a wonderful day,” Anthony was muttering to himself. “A wonderful day.” He looked up sharply at Gareth. “You don’t have sisters, do you?”“None,” Gareth confirmed.“I am in possession of four,” Anthony said, tossing back at least a third of the contents of his glass. “Four. And now they’re all off my hands. I’m done,” he said, looking as if he might break into a jig at any moment. “I’m free.”“You’ve daughters, don’t you?” Gareth could not resist reminding him.“Just one, and she’s only three. I have years before I have to go through this again. If I’m lucky, she’ll convert to Catholicism and become a nun.Gareth choked on his drink.“It’s good, isn’t it?” Anthony said, looking at the bottle. “Aged twenty-four years.”“I don’t believe I’ve ever ingested anything quite so ancient,” Gareth murmured.”

“Gareth sucked in a breath. Hyacinth’s brother wasn’t going to make this easy on him. But that didn’t matter. He had vowed to do this right, and he would not be cowed.He looked up, meeting the viscount’s dark eyes with steady purpose. “I would like to marry Hyacinth,” he said. And then, because the viscount did not say anything, because he didn’t even move, Gareth added, “Er, if she’ll have me.”And then about eight things happened at once. Or perhaps there were merely two or three, and it just seemed like eight, because it was all so unexpected.First, the viscount exhaled, although that did seem to understate the case. It was more of a sigh, actually—a huge, tired, heartfelt sigh that made the man positively deflate in front of Gareth. Which was astonishing. Gareth had seen the viscount on many occasions and was quite familiar with his reputation. This was not a man who sagged or groaned.His lips seemed to move through the whole thing, too, and if Gareth were a more suspicious man, he would have thought that the viscount had said, “Thank you, Lord.”Combined with the heavenward tilt of the viscount’s eyes, it did seem the most likely translation.And then, just as Gareth was taking all of this in, Lord Bridgerton let the palms of his hands fall against the desk with surprising force, and he looked Gareth squarely in the eye as he said, “Oh, she’ll have you. She will definitely have you.”It wasn’t quite what Gareth had expected. “I beg your pardon,” he said, since truly, he could think of nothing else.“I need a drink,” the viscount said, rising to his feet. “A celebration is in order, don’t you think?”“Er…yes?”Lord Bridgerton crossed the room to a recessed bookcase and plucked a cut-glass decanter off one of the shelves. “No,” he said to himself, putting it haphazardly back into place, “the good stuff, I think.” He turned to Gareth, his eyes taking on a strange, almost giddy light. “The good stuff, wouldn’t you agree?”“Ehhhh…” Gareth wasn’t quite sure what to make of this.“The good stuff,” the viscount said firmly. He moved some books to the side and reached behind to pull out what looked to be a very old bottle of cognac. “Have to keep it hidden,” he explained, pouring it liberally into two glasses.“Servants?” Gareth asked.“Brothers.” He handed Gareth a glass. “Welcome to the family.”

“I understand that you are an accomplished swords-man,” she finally said.He eyed her curiously. Where was she going with this? “I like to fence, yes,” he replied.“I have always wanted to learn.”“Good God,” Gregory grunted.“I would be quite good at it,” she protested.“I’m sure you would,” her brother replied, “which is why you should never be allowed within thirty feet of a sword.” He turned to Gareth. “She’s quite diabolical.”“Yes, I’d noticed,” Gareth murmured, deciding that maybe there might be a bit more to Hyacinth’s brother than he had thought.Gregory shrugged, reaching for a piece of shortbread. “It’s probably why we can’t seem to get her married off.”“Gregory!” This came from Hyacinth, but that was only because Lady Bridgerton had excused herself and followed one of the footmen into the hall.“It’s a compliment!” Gregory protested. “Haven’t you waited your entire life for me to agree that you’re smarter than any of the poor fools who have attempted to court you?”“You might find it difficult to believe,” Hyacinth shot back, “but I haven’t been going to bed each night thinking to myself—Oh, I do wish my brother would offer me something that passes for a compliment in his twisted mind.”

“Milk?” Lady Bridgerton asked.“Thank you,” Gareth replied. “No sugar, if you please.”“Hyacinth takes hers with three,” Gregory said, reaching for a piece of shortbread.“Why,” Hyacinth ground out, “would he care?”“Well,” Gregory replied, taking a bite and chewing, “he is your special friend.”

“Why don’t you purchase an Italian dictionary? I will assume the expense.”“I have one,” she said, “but I don’t think it’s very good. Half the words are missing.”“Half?”“Well, some,” she amended. “But truly, that’s not the problem.”He blinked, waiting for her to continue.She did. Of course. “I don’t think Italian is the author’s native tongue,” she said.“The author of the dictionary?” he queried.“Yes. It’s not terribly idiomatic.”

“Well,” he said with an affected sigh, “you have my approval, at least.”“Why?” Hyacinth asked suspiciously.“It would be an excellent match,” he continued. “If nothing else, think of the children.”She knew she’d regret it, but still she had to ask. “What children?”He grinned. “The lovely lithping children you could have together. Garethhhh and Hyathinthhhh. Hyathinth and Gareth. And the thublime Thinclair tots.”Hyacinth stared at him like he was an idiot.Which he was, she was quite certain of it.She shook her head. “How on earth Mother managed to give birth to seven perfectly normal children and one freak is beyond me.""Thith way to the nurthery.” Gregory laughed as sheheaded back into the room. “With the thcrumptious littleTharah and Thamuel Thinclair. Oh, yeth, and don’t forgetwee little Thuthannah!”

“I’m not trying to impress you,” he replied, glancing up at the front of the room. “Gads,” he said, blinking in surprise. “What is that ?”Hyacinth followed his gaze. Several of the Pleinsworth progeny, one of whom appeared to be costumed as a shepherdess, were milling about.“Now that’s an interesting coincidence,” Gareth murmured.“It might be time to start bleating,” she agreed.“I thought this was meant to be a poetry recitation.”Hyacinth grimaced and shook her head. “An unexpected change to the program, I’m afraid.”“From iambic pentameter to Little Bo Peep?” he asked doubtfully. “It does seem a stretch.”Hyacinth gave him a rueful look. “I think there will still be iambic pentameter.”His mouth fell open. “From Peep?”She nodded, holding up the program that had been resting in her lap. “It’s an original composition,” she said, as if that would explain everything. “By Harriet Pleinsworth.The Shepherdess, the Unicorn, and Henry VIII .”“All of them? At once?”“I’m not jesting,” she said, shaking her head.“Of course not. Even you couldn’t have made this up.”Hyacinth decided to take that as a compliment.“Why didn’t I receive one of these?” he asked, taking the program from her.“I believe it was decided not to hand them out to the gentlemen,” Hyacinth said, glancing about the room. “One has to admire Lady Pleinsworth’s foresight, actually. You’d surely flee if you knew what was in store for you.”

“Charlotte Stokehurst,” Violet Bridgerton announced, “is getting married.”“Today?” Hyacinth queried, taking off her gloves.Her mother gave her a look. “She has become engaged. Her mother told me this morning.”Hyacinth looked around. “Were you waiting for me in the hall?”“To the Earl of Renton,” Violet added. “Renton.”“Have we any tea?” Hyacinth asked. “I walked all the way home, and I’m thirsty.”“Renton!” Violet exclaimed, looking about ready to throw up her hands in despair. “Did you hear me?”“Renton,” Hyacinth said obligingly. “He has fat ankles.”“He’s—” Violet stopped short. “Why were you looking at his ankles?”

“You’ll be seeing him tomorrow night, anyway.”“I am?” Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, “She will?”“You’re accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading,” Lady D told her grandson. “Or have you forgotten?”Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair’s mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.“I really…” he said. “That is to say, I can’t—”“You can, and you will be there,” Lady D said. “You promised.”He regarded her with a stern expression. “I cannot imagine—”“Well, if you didn’t promise, you should have done, and if you love me…”Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.“When I die,” he said, “surely my epitaph will read, ‘He loved his grandmother when no one else would.’”“And what’s wrong with that?” Lady Danbury asked.”

“He turned to her. “Didn’t you see the lightning strike the steeple?”She recovered with a sip of tea, then smiled sweetly. “I was listening too devotedly to the sermon.”“Claptrap last week,” Lady D announced. “I think the priest is getting old.”Gareth opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, his grandmother’s cane swung around in a remarkably steady horizontal arc. “Don’t,” she warned, “make a comment beginning with the words, ‘Coming from you…’”“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he demurred.“Of course you would,” she stated. “You wouldn’t be my grandson if you wouldn’t.” She turned to Hyacinth. “Don’t you agree?”To her credit, Hyacinth folded her hands in her lap and said, “Surely there is no right answer to that question.”“Smart girl,” Lady D said approvingly.“I learn from the master.”Lady Danbury beamed.”