“Childhood romances always seem so real, so enduring, when we are separated from the object of our affection. But usually, when we return, we find that our dreams and memories quiet surpassed reality.-Lady Anne, Whitney's aunt”

“By the way," he said, so casually that Lauren was instantly on guard, "a magazine reporter called me this morning. They know who you are and they know we're getting married. When the story breaks, I'm afraid the press will start hounding you.""How did they find out?" Lauren gasped.He shot her a glinting smile. "I told them."Everything was happening so quickly that Lauren felt dazed. "Did you happen to tell them when and where we're getting married?" she chided. "I told them soon." He closed his briefcase and drew her out of the chair in which she had just sat down. "Do you want a big church wedding with a cast of hundreds-or could you settle for me in a little chapel somewhere, with just your family and a few friends? When we come back from our honeymoon we could throw a huge party,and that would satisfy our social obligations to everyone else we know."Lauren quickly considered the burden a big church wedding would place on her father's health and nonexistent finances, and the highly desirable alternative of becoming Nick's wife right away. "You and a chapel," she said."Good." He grinned. "Because I would go quietly insane waiting to make you mine. I'm not a patient man.""Really?" She straightened the knot in his tie so that she'd have an excuse to touch him. "I never noticed that.""Brat," he said affectionately.”

“We all do foolish things when we are in love. Don't we, your grace?”

“You were wearing your hair up like that the day we left for Harbor Springs," he said, his deep voice pitched seductively low. "I like it.""In that case," Lauren said lightly, "I'll start wearing it down."He grinned. "So that's the way we're going to play it,is it?""Play what?""This little game we started yesterday.""I am not playing your game," she said with quiet firmness. "I do not want the prize.”

“You will soon discover that in matters of the heart, memories are much kinder than reality”

“We are not of what we feel or believe to do, we are of what we do or fail to do.”

“Elizabeth’s entire body started to tremble as his lips began descending to hers. and she sought to forestall what her heart knew was inevitable by reasoning with him. “A gently bred Englishwoman,” she shakily quoted Lucinda’s lecture. “feels nothing stronger than affection. We do not fall in love.” His warm lips covered hers. “I’m a Scot,” he murmured huskily. “We do.”