“She was feeling more vulnerable and alone than she had felt in years. And incredibly frightened. For all her fiercely held independence, she still desperately craved solace. A secret desire to be held, protected. Loved? No, that was going to far. Love was a manipulation. A lie. Lust was more honest. Lust only messed with your body not your mind.”

“There are so many battles to fight...so many scores to settle.”

“Yet, there is another altogether tantalizing form of surrender. The act of giving in with a vengeance.”

“...she could see it now, what her father loved about Shakespeare, about that entire, mysterious time, with its pomp and majesty, secrets and betrayals.”

“She was a woman who cared more about what she was right about than about being right.”

“Villanelle for my valentineOld love, I thought I'd never see the timebecause of all we've done and often saidwhen I'd be yours, my dear, and you'd be mine.And what relief to soften, and resignthe battle of the heart over the head.old love, I thought I'd never see the timewhen qualms and cold feet that could undermineall we've held out for, dissipate insteadnow that I'm yours, my dear and you are mine.I'm still amazed how our two lives alignthe two of us! A pair! Take it as read,old love, I thought I'd never see the timeThe tangle of our jumpers in the line,the battle for the blankets in our bedconfirm that I am yours, and you are mine.So then, this is my pledge, my valentine:my hand's in yours for all that lies ahead.Oh love, there's never been a better timenow that I'm yours, and finally, you're mine.”

“The kiss he gave her was fierce and passionate, relaying so much more than lust and desire. She clung to him, soaking up the flood of emotion from a man known for his reserve and austerity. This was why she could blossom for him, why she felt fearless and audacious. They were so much alike in that way, their still waters running deeper than most.”