“Daphne Bridgerton, I don't—""—like my tone, I know." Daphne grinned. "But you love me."Violet smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around Daphne's shoulder. "Heaven help me, I do."Daphne gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. "It's the curse of motherhood. You're required to love us even when we vex you."Violet just sighed. "I hope that someday you have children—""—just like me, I know." Daphne smiled nostalgically and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her mother could be overly inquisitive, and her father had been more interested in hounds and hunting than he'd been in society affairs, but theirs had been a warm marriage, filled with love, laughter, and children. "I could do a great deal worse than follow your example, Mother," she murmured.”

“He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did youbring it?""My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?"His smile widened. "I brought mine."Daphne gasped. "You didn't!""I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass—""You don't have a quizzing glass."He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion.""Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me.""I'm counting on it.”

“Francesca actually felt her chin drop. “Mother,” she said, shaking her head, “you really should have stopped at seven.”“Children, you mean?” Violet asked, sipping at her tea. “Sometimes I do wonder.”“Mother!” Hyacinth exclaimed.Violet just smiled at her. “Salt?”“It took her eight tries to get it right,” Hyacinth announced, thrusting the salt cellar at her mother with a decided lack of grace.“And does that mean that you, too, hope to have eight children?” Violet inquired sweetly.“God no,” Hyacinth said. With great feeling. And neither she nor Francesca could quite resist a chuckle after that.”

“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.”

“Say whatever is in your heart,” Violet said. Her lipstwisted wryly. “And if that doesn’t work, I suggest thatyou take a book and knock him over the head with it.”Hyacinth blinked, then blinked again. “I beg your pardon.”“I didn’t say that,” Violet said quickly.Hyacinth felt herself smile. “I’m rather certain youdid.”“Do you think?” Violet murmured, concealing her ownsmile with her teacup.“A large book,” Hyacinth queried, “or small?”“Large, I think, don’t you?”Hyacinth nodded. “Have we The Complete Works ofShakespeare in the library?”Violet’s lips twitched. “I believe that we do.”Something began to bubble in Hyacinth’s chest. Somethingvery close to laughter. And it felt so good to feel itagain.“I love you, Mother,” she said, suddenly consumed bythe need to say it aloud. “I just wanted you to know that.”“I know, darling,” Violet said, and her eyes were shiningbrightly. “I love you, too.”

“You’re very impatient,” Violet said, facing the door. “You always have been.”“I know,” Eloise said, wondering if this was a scolding, and if so, why was her mother choosing to do it now?“I always loved that about you,” Violet said. “I always loved everything about you, of course, but for some reason I always found your impatience especially charming. It was never because you wanted more, it was because you wanted everything.”Eloise wasn’t so sure that sounded like such a good trait.“You wanted everything for everyone, and you wanted to know it all and learn it all, and . . .”For a moment Eloise thought her mother might be done, but then Violet turned around and added, “You’ve never been satisfied with second-best, and that’s good, Eloise. I’m glad you never married any of those men who proposed in London. None of them would have made you happy. Content, maybe, but not happy.”Eloise felt her eyes widen with surprise.“But don’t let your impatience become all that you are,” Violet said softly. “Because it isn’t, you know. There’s a great deal more to you, but I think sometimes you forget that.” She smiled, the gentle, wise smile of a mother saying goodbye to her daughter.”

“But that’s not what I’m trying to tell you,” Violet said, her eyes taking on a slightly determined expression. “What I’m trying to say is that when you were born, and they put you into my arms—it’s strange, because for some reason I was so convinced you would look just like your father. I thought for certain I would look down and see his face, and it would be some sort of sign from heaven.”Hyacinth’s breath caught as she watched her, and she wondered why her mother had never told her this story. And why she’d never asked.“But you didn’t,” Violet continued. “You looked rather like me. And then—oh my, I remember this as if it were yesterday—you looked into my eyes, and you blinked. Twice.”“Twice?” Hyacinth echoed, wondering why this was important.“Twice.” Violet looked at her, her lips curving into a funny little smile. “I only remember it because you looked so deliberate. It was the strangest thing. You gave me a look as if to say, ‘I know exactly what I’m doing.’ ”A little burst of air rushed past Hyacinth’s lips, and she realized it was a laugh. A small one, the kind that takes a body by surprise.“And then you let out a wail,” Violet said, shaking her head. “My heavens, I thought you were going to shake the paint right off the walls. And I smiled. It was the first time since your father died that I smiled.”Violet took a breath, then reached for her tea. Hyacinth watched as her mother composed herself, wanting desperately to ask her to continue, but somehow knowing the moment called for silence.For a full minute Hyacinth waited, and then finally her mother said, softly, “And from that moment on, you were so dear to me. I love all my children, but you…” She looked up, her eyes catching Hyacinth’s. “You saved me.”Something squeezed in Hyacinth’s chest. She couldn’t quite move, couldn’t quite breathe. She could only watch her mother’s face, listen to her words, and be so very, very grateful that she’d been lucky enough to be her child.“In some ways I was a little too protective of you,” Violet said, her lips forming the tiniest of smiles, “and at the same time too lenient. You were so exuberant, so completely sure of who you were and how you fit into the world around you. You were a force of nature, and I didn’t want to clip your wings.”“Thank you,” Hyacinth whispered, but the words were so soft, she wasn’t even sure she’d said them aloud.”