“It was a good thing she was wearing her mother's pearls. With those clasping her neck, she felt as if she could conquer anything. Harcroft would mock her, no doubt, if he knew her thoughts. He'd dismiss her attire as frills and furbelows-a women's only armor. Idiocy on his part.There were a great many problems that could be solved with a visit to the mantua-maker. and fine gowns or no, this meeting promised to be a war, however politely and subtly it was joined.”

“Her fingers clenched against his shoulder blades. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”“Do I not?” He threaded his hands gently around her neck. “I’m asking you to make love with me.”That word again. She opened her eyes. “Gareth,” she whispered. “Please. Don’t. This is hard enough—”She stopped speaking as his gaze pierced her.Incredible. Last night had seemed so intimate. And yet ithad been so dark that she had not been able to see anything other than flashes of light, reflecting off the surfaceof his skin. Now she could look into his eyes. They were golden-brown. They were not cutting or dismissive. Andeven though she could see the desire smolder inside them, there was something else in them that turned her belly to liquid.”

“Kate had dressed for battle, donning her finest pink muslin morning dress. With lace at her wrists and mother-of-pearl buttons at her throat, instead of that itchy servant's cloak, she felt capable of matching wits with anyone.”

“The physician said some women don't take to childbirth. Something about too much excitement laid upon the female sensibility. She wasn't herself afterward. The female mind is delicate as it is, you know. She changed during her confinement. She was less biddable, more excitable. More given to hysterics."Harcroft shrugged. The gesture conveyed helplessness, and Kate's lip curled. Helpless, Harcroft was not. Kate suppressed the urge to lift the nearby oil lamp with her delicate, female hands. She felt excited and unbiddable right now;why, she might slip and use her own delicate, female sensibility to bash all that heavy brass into his head.”

“For years, every conversation she had with a man had been colored by calculation. Would she put him off is she spoke her mind? What did he want her to say? When a man took a mistress, he purchased not just the rights to her body, but the content of her thoughts. Sir Mark wanted her as she was, not as he wished her to be. The thought made her head hurt.”

“She wanted never again to have to fill another man's bed, telling falsehoods with her body until her mind could no longer track her own desires. She wanted to rid herself of the murk and the mire that had filled her. This life had bound her as effectively as if she were a falcon tied by a leather shackle, and she wanted to be free.”

“And that was how Jenny discovered the answer to her question. How could she remain Gareth’s lover without becoming his mistress?She couldn’t.The only question was whether this affair would end in three months or three days.”