“He sucked his lips in an attempt not to laugh. "Aren't you Spanish?"She raised one arm in a salute. "Viva la Queen Isabella!""I see. Then why are you speaking with a French accent?”

“There,” she said triumphantly. “Like that.”He began to wonder if they were speaking the same language.“Like what?”“That! What you just said.”He crossed his arms. It seemed the only acceptable reply. If shecouldn’t speak in complete sentences, he saw no reason why hehad to speak at all.”

“What are you up to?" she asked."Why would you think I'm up to anything?"Her lips pursed before she said, "You wouldn't be you if you weren't up to something."He smiled at that. "I do believe that was a compliment.""It wasn't necessarily intended as such.""But nonetheless," he said mildly, "that's how I choose to take it.”

“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.”

“Speaking of which,” he murmured.Hyacinth’s mouth fell open as he dropped down to oneknee. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, franticallylooking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peekingout at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.“Someone will see,” she whispered.He seemed unconcerned. “People will say we’re inlove.”“I—” Good heavens, but how did a woman argueagainst that?“Hyacinth Bridgerton,” he said, taking her hand in his,“will you marry me?”She blinked in confusion. “I already said I would.”“Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.They were mostly the right reasons, but not all.”“I—I—” She was stumbling on the words, choking onthe emotion.He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear andblue in the dim light of the streetlamps. “I am asking youto marry me because I love you,” he said”

“Ellie fought the urge to stamp her foot. "I meant it this time. Do you accept my apology?""It appears," he said, raising his eyebrows, "that you might do me bodily harm if I do not.""Ungracious prig," she muttered. "I am trying to apologize.""And I," he said, "am trying to accept.”

“Daphne," he said with controlled gentleness, "what is wrong?"She sat down opposite him and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm so insensitive," she whispered. "I should have known. I should never have said anything.""Should have known what?" he ground out.Her hand fell away. "That you can't—that you couldn't—""Can't what?"She looked down at her lap, where her hands were attempting to wring each other to shreds. "Please don't make me say it," she said.'This," Simon muttered, "has got to be why men avoid marriage.”