Sherry Thomas

“During terms, Professor Marsden lives in Cambridge with his wife, chess playerextraordinaire and distinguished physician and surgeon Bryony Asquith Marsden. Hisfavorite time of day is half past six in the evening, when he meets Mrs. Marsden’s train at thestation, as the latter returns from her day in London. On Sunday afternoons, rain or shine,Professor and Mrs. Marsden take a walk along The Backs, and treasure growing oldtogether.”

“A reflection of their story: imperfect, but to him the most beautiful of stories.”

“I despaired for a while during the rail journey-how did one deal with such ingrainedcowardice? Then I realized that there is no such thing as courage in the absence of cowardice.Courage is also a choice: It’s what happens when one refuses to give in to fear.”She rested her head against the bedpost and gazed at him. “Your trust gives me courage.”He understood her perfectly. “And your courage gives me faith.”She smiled a little. “Do you trust me?”“Yes,” he answered without any hesitation.“Then trust me when I say that we will be all right.”He trusted her. And he knew then that they would be all right, the two of them. Together.”

“How do you find the grace to facethe shadows?”

“Mr. Robbins let slip that he had not beensleeping well. He’d given up his room at the lodging house to a lady traveling by herself,who’d come into Nowshera too tired to stand, when Nowshera was overrun and bedsimpossible to find. When the lady left, the landlord had given the room to someone else,leaving Mr. Robbins to sleep in rather atrocious places.”“Dear me,” said Lady Vera.“He didn’t know it, but that lady was Mrs. Marsden. And I, for one, will always be gratefulthat he helped her when there was absolutely nothing in it for him.”Lady Vera set down her tea. She reached forward and took Leo’s hands. “Thank you, Mr.Marsden. Sometimes I forget that beneath Michael’s ambition, there is not a void, but muchkindness. Thank you for reminding me.”

“When will you ask for your post back?” he whispered in her ear. “I miss the smell ofindustrial-strength solvents.”She laughed softly. “Soon. And when will you have papers read at the mathematical societyagain? I rather like having my husband called a genius for reasons that are not clear to me.”My husband. The words rolled off her tongue, easy and beautiful. He kissed her fervently.“Soon. My brilliance quite overflowed on the way home. I have four notebooks to show forit.”“Good. We don’t want people to think I love you for your looks alone.”“In that case we should also put you in some rather revealing gowns once in a while, so thatpeople don’t think I married you for your accomplishments alone.”

“Now what I want to know is what happened when you found Bryony, Leo,” said Will.“Did you just say your sister sent me, pack up everything and come with me this moment?”“More or less.”“And she came away with you?”“More or less.” Leo tossed Bryony a mischievous look. “Although there might have beenlaudanum, drugging, and a midnight abduction involved.”“Now that’s a much better story,” said Matthew. “I would pay to read that one.”“And for his knavery, Leo lost one of his—more important parts,” said Bryony.“No!” Matthew and Will shouted in unison.“Bryony!” Callista squeaked.“Kidney,” Leo cried. “It was just a kidney. A man can live a perfectly vigorous life withone kidney.”“You can call it a kidney if you want,” said Bryony.”

“Did thetwo of you marry again? Please tell me yes. If he is my brother-in-law again, he is less likelyto kill me for what I did.”Bryony looked at her a moment, then leaned in and whispered in her ear. “He won’t killyou. He just wants you committed to an asylum.”

“Trust ran both ways. How could he ask her to trust him when he hardly trusted her?He would trust her, in her love, in her strength, in her decency and fortitude.And when the time came, he would find the strength in himself.”

“Once theexhilaration of their reunion wore off, once the newness of their lovemaking was no longer sonew, how would she see him? No matter how careful he was, invariably someday he woulddo something to make her angry. What then? Would all the old unhappiness rush to the fore?Would she remember that he had once betrayed her and regret that she’d ever given him asecond chance?Or would she protect herself from the beginning by keeping a certain distance from him, sothat their closeness would always fall short of true communion, always denying him that finalforgiveness so that he could never hurt her again?”

“I guess what I’m really trying to say is that you used to shatter easily. Butnow you’ve become less brittle.”

“All your emotions were so intense—your anger like daggers, your unhappiness a poisoned well. Even your love had such sharp corners and dark alleys.”

“Dear Bryony,There are many things I wish I had time to tell you, so I will say just this: These past few days have been some of the best days of my life. Because of you.My fervent hope is that you are safe and well as you read this letter. That you will have all the happiness I wish I could have shared with you. And that you will remember me not as a failed husband, but one who was still trying, til the very end.Yours always,Leo”

“Despite all her strengths, there was a certain brittleness to her. Sometimes she retreated intoher keep. Sometimes she ran away. But she did not forgive and she did not forget.”

“How ironic that when they’d been married, she’d never thought of growing old with him.Yet now, years after the annulment, she should think of it with the yearning of an exile, forthe homeland that had long ago evicted her.”

“But sometimes the males of the species brought home shiny, beautiful things, with hope burning in their hearts.”

“Humans, herself included, held nointerest for her except as living machines, mind-bogglingly intricate, beautiful systems thatsomehow housed individuals not quite worthy of the miracle of their physical bodies.”

“He’d gone into their marriage determined that she would never be alone again. In the end, she’d made him as alone in the world as she.”

“if she hadn’t been at peace, then at least shewasn’t at war with herself.”

“You don’t know how to converse. Sometimes I think the spaces between the stars are filled with your silence.”

“Sometimes people change, said a voice inside him.And sometimes they don’t.”

“It’s a long story,” he said, taking a sip of Mr. Braeburn’s whiskey, “so I will tell only avery condensed version of it.“Mrs. Marsden and I grew up on adjacent properties in the Cotswold. But the Cotswold, asfair as it is, plays almost no part in this tale. Because it was not in the green, unpollutedcountryside that we fell in love, but in gray, sooty London. Love at first sight, of course, ahunger of the soul that could not be denied.”Bryony trembled somewhere inside. This was not their story, but her story, the determinedspinster felled by the magnificence and charm of the gorgeous young thing.He glanced at her. “You were the moon of my existence; your moods dictated the tides ofmy heart.”The tides of her own heart surged at his words, even though his words were nothing butlies.“I don’t believe I had moods,” she said severely.“No, of course not. ‘Thou art more lovely and more temperate’—and the tides of my heartonly rose ever higher to crash against the levee of my self-possession. For I loved you mostintemperately, my dear Mrs. Marsden.”Beside her Mrs. Braeburn blushed, her eyes bright. Bryony was furious at Leo, for hisfacile words, and even more so at herself, for the painful pleasure that trickled into her dropby drop.“Our wedding was the happiest hour of my life, that we would belong to each other always.The church was filled with hyacinths and camellias, and the crowd overflowed to the steps,for the whole world wanted to see who had at last captured your lofty heart.“But alas, I had not truly captured your lofty heart, had I? I but held it for a moment. Andsoon there was trouble in Paradise. One day, you said to me, ‘My hair has turned white. It is asign I must wander far and away. Find me then, if you can. Then and only then will I be yoursagain.’”Her heart pounded again. How did he know that she had indeed taken her hair turning whiteas a sign that the time had come for her to leave? No, he did not know. He’d made it up out ofwhole cloth. But even Mr. Braeburn was spellbound by this ridiculous tale. She had forgottenhow hypnotic Leo could be, when he wished to beguile a crowd.“And so I have searched. From the poles to the tropics, from the shores of China to theshores of Nova Scotia. Our wedding photograph in hand, I have asked crowds pale, red,brown, and black, ‘I seek an English lady doctor, my lost beloved. Have you seen her?’”He looked into her eyes, and she could not look away, as mesmerized as the haplessBraeburns.“And now I have found you at last.” He raised his glass. “To the beginning of the rest ofour lives.”

“Life had its way of beating humbleness into a man.”

“He’d never encountered beauty of such magnitude and intensity. It was not allure, but grace, like the sight of land to a shipwrecked man. And he, who hadn’t been on a capsized vessel since he was six—and that had only been an overturned canoe—suddenly felt as if he’d been adrift in the open ocean his entire life.Someone spoke to him. He couldn’t make out a single word.There was something elemental to her beauty, like a mile-high thunderhead, a gathering avalanche, or a Bengal tiger prowling the darkness of the jungle. A phenomenon of inherent danger and overwhelming perfection.He felt a sharp, sweet ache in his chest: His life would never again be complete without her. But he felt no fear, only excitement, wonder, and desire.Christian's thoughts upon seeing Venetia for the first time (Beguiling the Beauty, Fitzhugh Trilogy 1, by Sherry Thomas)”

“The buttons on her back gave way as if before a Mongol horde.”

“And why, exactly, was she in no danger from him? Why didn’t he want her with the fervor of a thousand over-heating engines? She ought to be constantly ogled and groped, having to beat him off with her parasol, her fan, and maybe one of her walking boots.”

“Hastings sat down and braced his arm along the back of the chaise, quite effectively letting it be known he did not want anyone else to join them. “You look frustrated, Miss Fitzhugh.” He lowered his voice. “Has your bed been empty of late?” He knew very well she’d been watched more closely than prices on the stock exchange. She couldn’t smuggle a hamster into her bed, let alone a man. “You look anemic, Hastings,” she said. “Have you been leaving the belles of England breathlessly unsatisfied again?” He grinned. “Ah, so you know what it is like to be breathlessly unsatisfied. I expected as little from Andrew Martin.” Her tone was pointed. “As little as you expect from yourself, no doubt.” He sighed exaggeratedly. “Miss Fitzhugh, you disparage me so, when I’ve only ever sung your praises.” “Well, we all do what we must,” she said with sweet venom. He didn’t reply—not in words, at least.”

“Millie was never possessive, never effusive, and never demonstrative. Her even-tempered approach to her marriage should have been enough to convince everyone that she admired, but did not love, her husband. Yet for years now, his sisters had suspected something else.Perhaps unrequited love was like a specter in the house, a presence that brushed at the edge of senses, a heat in the dark, a shadow under the sun.”

“And in the depth of her eyes were all these years—seasons they’d known, paths they’d trod.Slowly he entered her again. Everything reflected in her gaze: shyness, yearning, ripples of pleasure.The pleasure turned fierce, then ferocious. He labored to draw breath. In the wash of her climax, she closed her eyes. He closed his own eyes and yielded to the moment.”

“Then he made love to her not only as if he had never experienced lovemaking before, but no one had.”

“His climax began gathering again, rising toward a point of no return. He didn’t know if he could restrain himself this time: He was too close, too near to being overwhelmed.She cried out, trembling exclamations.He lost all control, his release hot, violent, and endless.”

“Make no sounds. Do not, under any circumstances, make any sounds.She faltered. A whimper of unutterable pleasure escaped her tightly clenched teeth.Deep inside her, a dam that had been ceaselessly reinforced crumbled. Years upon years of pent-up desires flooded her. Suddenly she couldn’t care less that she must remain quiet and pliant.She wanted. She wanted. She wanted.She gripped him by the lapel and yanked him to her.”

“He kissed her on her ear, a kiss with the barest hint of moisture to it. She could not breath for the electricity of it, a violent spark of pleasure that shook and scarred. His fingers caressed her shoulders. His lips pressed into her exposed nape. Dark, hot sensations spiked into her.”

“But tonight, after the carriages left, there would be Millie, her scent like a breeze from their lavender field at the height of summer, her skin as smooth as the finest velvet.Their eyes met. She flushed. Desire tumbled through him.”

“Some hopes were weeds, easy to eradicate with a yank and a pull. Some, however, were vines, fast growing, tenacious, and impossible to clear. As she played the music box again, alone in the drawing room, she began to realize that hers were of the latter kind.She would never stop hoping.”

“Even now her body yearned to be closer to him. She wanted to press her nose into his skin and inhale hungrily—he always smelled as if he’d just taken a walk across a sunny meadow. She wanted to rub her palm against his jaw to feel the beginning of stubbles. She wanted to slide her hands underneath his shirt and learn every single shape and texture, with the fierce dedication she’d once put into mastering the Grandes Études.”

“It was the beginning of the end.Or perhaps, it was only the end of something that was never meant to begin.”

“He was summertime itself, young, luminous, lit from within by rekindled hopes and reawakened dreams. And every beggar along his path—herself included—could expect redoubled generosity and kindness.”

“Perhaps unrequited love was like a specter in the house, a presence that brushed at the edge of senses, a heat in the dark, a shadow under the sun.”

“Rain came down in sheets. It had been a miserable spring. Already he despaired of ever again walking under an unclouded sky.”

“Was unhappiness really so invisible? Or did people simply prefer to turn away, as if from lepers?”

“That's right. Carrington didn't want to marry the likes of me. He had to be dragged kicking and screamingto the negotiation table.”“Did you enjoy the dragging?” He glanced down at her.“Yes, I rather did,” she confessed. “It was amusing threatening to strip his house bare to the last plank on the floor and the last spoon in the kitchen.”“My parents are convinced of your grief.” She heard the smile in his voice. “They said tears streameddown your face at his funeral.”“For nearly three years of hard work down the drain, I cried like a bereaved mother.”

“Amazing what a man thought of, looking at a fully clothed woman who did nothing more provocative than sipping her tea while gazing thoughtfully into the distance.For the thousandth time he wished he’d just met her. That they were but two strangers traveling together, that such lovely, filthy thoughts did not break him in two, but were only a pleasant pastime as he slowly fell under the spell of her aloof beauty and her hidden intensity.There were so many stories he could tell her, so many ways to draw her out of her shell. He would have waited with bated breath for her first smile, for the sound of her first laughter. He would be endlessly curious about her, eager to undress her metaphorically as well as physically.The first holding of hands. The first kiss. The first time he saw her unclothed. The first time theybecame one.The first time they finished each other’s sentences.But no, they’d met long ago, in the furthest years of his childhood. Their chances had come and gone. All they had ahead of them were a tedious road and a final good-bye.”

“She felt as if she'd been hugging puppies all day.”

“Love without friendship is like a kite, aloft only when the winds are favorable. Friendship is what gives love its wings.”

“Some things in life were truly difficult. Finding the source of the Nile, for example. Or exploring the South Pole. But falling out of love with a man who never looked at her twice, why should that prove an insurmountable challenge?”

“Why allow all the old memories to have supremacy? Make new ones, memories of such luster and beauty that, should the old ones come back, they would be pallid and impotent in comparison.”

“It was a few minutes before Helena could stop panting. She dared not read any further, or she’d crash through the connecting door and ravish Hastings—and she was far from sure how she felt about him.-- As she was reading the manuscript of The Bride of Larkspear”

“He felt like a pilgrim standing on the shores of Lake Sahara, having walked barefoot over hundreds of miles, yet all the hardships forgotten, filled with only wonder and reverence at the marvel of it all.”

“He climbed into bed himself and kissed his way up her legs. Instincts she didn’t even know she possessed made her clench her thighs together. Without any hesitation, he pushed them apart, exposing her to his gaze.“The doors of the temple, darling, never close to the devout acolyte.”