“But she was already in. Gareth couldn't help but stand back in admiration. Hyacinth Bridgerton was clearly a natural born athlete.Either that or a cat burglar.”

“Milk?” Lady Bridgerton asked.“Thank you,” Gareth replied. “No sugar, if you please.”“Hyacinth takes hers with three,” Gregory said, reaching for a piece of shortbread.“Why,” Hyacinth ground out, “would he care?”“Well,” Gregory replied, taking a bite and chewing, “he is your special friend.”

“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, “do try to speak in complete sentences.”Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression. “Biscuits. Are. Good.” She cocked her head to the side. “Noun. Verb. Adjective.”“Hyacinth.”“Noun. Verb. Adjective.” Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face. “Sentence. Is. Correct.”

“I had to stop sneaking around girls' houses like some kind of dumb-ass cat burglar. Clearly it got me nowhere good.”

“I couldn't help but see; I wasn't blind. I couldn't help but admire; I wasn't dead”

“But Hyacinth Bridgerton, who at ten should have known the least about kisses of anyone, just blinked thoughtfully, and said, “I think it's nice. If they're laughing now, they'll probably be laughing forever.” She turned to her mother. “Isn't that a good thing?”