“Besides," he said breezily, "were it not for misunderstandings, we would be sadly lacking in great literature."She looked at him questioningly."Where would Romeo and Juliet be?""Alive.”

“What happened to your face?" Harriet asked."It was a misunderstanding," Daniel said smoothly, wondering how long it might take for his bruises to heal. He did not think he was particularly vain, but the questions were growing tiresome."A misunderstanding?" Elizabeth echoed. "With an anvil?""Oh, stop," Harriet admonished her. "I think he looks very dashing." "As if he dashed into an anvil.""Pay no attention," Harriet said to him. "She lacks imagination.”

“He felt a bit like Romeo to her Juliet, minus the feuding families and poison.And with pigeons.”

“You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.”“I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.”“Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.”She looked at him.“When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes.”

“Forget Romeo and Juliet. This was much closer to The Taming of the Shrew.”

“He said he loved me,” she whispered.Daniel swallowed, and he had the strangest sensation, almost a premonition of what it must like to be a parent.Someday, God willing, he’d have a daughter, and that daughter would look like the woman standing in front of him, and if ever she looked at him with that bewildered expression, whispering, “He said he loved me . . .”Nothing short of murder would be an acceptable response.”

“First of all, this goes no further than this room.""Agreed," she said quickly.Anthony looked pointedly at Simon."Of course," he replied."Mother would be devastated if she learned the truth.""Actually," Simon murmured, "I rather think your mother would applaud our ingenuity, but since you have quite obviously known her longer, I bow to your discretion."Anthony shot him a frosty look. "Second, under no circumstances are the two of you to be alone together. Ever.""Well, that should be easy," Daphne said, "as we wouldn't be allowed to be alone if we were courting in truth, anyway."Simon recalled their brief interlude in the hall at Lady Danbury's house, and found it a pity that he wasn't to be allowed any more private time with Daphne, but he recognized a brick wall when he saw one, especially when said wall happened to be named Anthony Bridgerton. So he just nodded and murmured his assent."Third—" "There is a third?" Daphne asked.            "There would be thirty if I could think of them," Anthony growled.                                        "Very well," she acceded, looking most aggrieved. "If you must.”