“He smiled, and suddenly she knew that his words were true. Everything would be all right. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Tragedy couldn't coexist in a world with one of Colin's smiles.”

“In his heart, she’d been smiling for him.But now she was smiling at Colin Bridgerton, he of the famous charm and sparkling green eyes.”

“Felicity," Mrs. Featherington interurupted, "why don't you tell Mr. Brdgerton about your watercolors?"For the life of him, Colin couldn't imagine a less interesting topic (except maybe for Phillipa's watercolors), but he nonetheless turned to the youngest Featherington with a friendly smile and asked, "And how are your watercolors?"But Felicity, bless her heart, gave him a rather friendly smile herself and said nothing but, "I imagine they're fine, thank you.”

“And you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied in a tone that could have frozen champagne, "are almost as handsome as your brother."Colin snorted again, only this time it sounded as if he were being strangled."Are you all right?" Miss Sheffield asked."He's fine," Anthony barked.She ignored him, keeping her attention on Colin. "Are you certain?"Colin nodded furiously. 'Tickle in my throat.""Or perhaps a guilty conscience?" Anthony suggested.Colin turned deliberately from his brother to Kate. "I think I might need another glass of lemonade," he gasped."Or maybe," said Anthony, "something stronger. Hemlock, perhaps?”

“Blake took a small roll from the tray on the table, then put it back in favor of a larger one. And maybe a little butter. It certainly couldn't hurt. And jam...no, he drew the line at jam. She was a spy, after all.”

“But if he had indeed blushed-and his cheeks did feel a touch warm-neither of his brothers saw it, because they didn't say anything, and if there was anything in life as certain as, say, the sun rising in the east,it was that a Bridgerton never passed up the opportunity to tease and torment another Bridgerton."She's been talking about Penelope Featherington nonstop," Colin said with a scowl. "I tell you, I've known the girl since we were both in short pants. Er, since I was in short pants, at least. She was in..." He scowled some more, because both his brothers were laughing at him. "She was in whatever it is that young girls wear.""Frocks?" Anthony supplied helpfully."Petticoats?" was Benedict's suggestion. "The point is," Colin said forcefully, "that I have known her forever, and I can assure you I am not likely to fall in love with her."Anthony turned to Benedict and said, "They'll be married within a year.Mark my words."Colin crossed his arms. "Anthony!""Maybe two," Benedict said. "He's young yet.""Unlike you," Colin retorted. "Why am I besiged by Mother, I wonder? Good God, you're thirty-one-""Thirty," Benedict snapped."Regardless, one would think you'd be getting the brunt of it.”

“He stepped toward her, and her heart just ached from it. His face was so handsome, and so dear, and so perfectly wonderfully familiar. She knew the slope of his cheeks, and the exact shade of his eys, brownish near the iris, melting into green at the edge.And his mouth-she knew that mouth, the look of it, the feel of it. She knew his smile, and she knew his frown, and she knew-she knew far to much.”