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

“Somebody up there is deuced mad at me," she yelled, "and I want to know why!"The heavens opened in earnest and within seconds she was soaked to the skin."Remind me never to question Your purposes again," she muttered ungraciously, not sounding particularly like the God-fearing young lady her father had raised her to be. "Clearly You don't like to be second-guessed."Lightning streaked through the sky, followed by a booming clap of thunder. "Damn!" she grunted, her bonnet sagged against her eyes, blocking her vision. She yanked it off, looked at the sky, and yelled, "I am not amused!"More lightning."They are all against me," she muttered,"All of them." Her father, Sally Foxglove, Mr. Tibbett, whoever it was who controlled the weather—More thunder.”

“But just for the sake of argument, let's say I am cornered. Or perhaps I am in the middle of a crowded ballroom and do not want to make a scene. If you were flirting with a young lady who had just told you not to call her sweetheart, what would you do?""I would accede to her wishes and bid her good night," he said starchily."You would not!" Henry accused with a playful smile. "You're a terrible rake, Dunford. Belle told me.""Belle talks too much," he muttered.”

“He wondered if she'd mind if he threw her down on the blanket and tore off her clothing. (..) She looked heartbreakingly innocent. Alex sighed. She'd probably mind.”

“You might wish to revisit your understanding of the word everything.” Gregory turned to his mother.“Vocabulary and comprehension were never her strong suits.”Violet rolled her eyes. “Every day I marvel that the two of you managed to reach adulthood.”“Afraid we’d kill each other?” Gregory quipped.“No, that I’d do the job myself.”

“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?”

“Miss Bridgerton,” he said, “the devil himself couldn’t scare you.”She forced her eyes to meet his. “That’s not a compliment, is it?”He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself,” he murmured.To all who observed, he was the soul of propriety, but Hyacinth caught the daring gleam in his eye, and she felt the breath leave her body as tingles of electricity rushed across her skin. Her lips parted, but she had nothing to say, not a single word. There was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.And then he straightened as if nothing had happened and said, “Do let me know what you decide.”She just stared at him.“About the compliment,” he added. “I am sure you will wish to let me know how I feel about you.”Her mouth fell open.He smiled. Broadly. “Speechless, even. I’m to be commended.”“You—”“No. No,” he said, lifting one hand in the air and pointing toward her as if what he really wanted to do was place his finger on her lips and shush her. “Don’t ruin it. The moment is too rare.”