“He wondered if she'd mind if he threw her down on the blanket and tore off her clothing. (..) She looked heartbreakingly innocent. Alex sighed. She'd probably mind.”

“He rolled his eyes. Why was he surprised about anything having to do with her? Of course she'd be able to lift a large stone. She was Henry. She could probably lift him.”

“She looked down at her sketch pad. She'd been drawing a rabbit. She decided to give him unpleasant teeth. Vicious little bunny. Excellent.”

“Annabel looked down. Her hands were shaking. She couldn't do this. Not yet. She couldn't face the man she'd kissed who happened to be the heir to the man she didn't want to kiss but whos she probably was going to marry. Oh yes, and she could not forget that if she did marry the man she didn't want to kiss, she was likely to provide him with a new heir, thus cutting off the man she did want to kiss.”

“Two hours later he was ready to kill her. Even his outraged mind, however, recognized that murder was not a viable option, and so he contented himself with devising various plans to make her suffer.Torture was probably too trite, he decided, and he didn't have the stomach to use it on a female. Although ... He looked over at the person in the baggy breeches. She appeared to be smiling as she lugged the stones. She was no ordinary female.He shook his head. There were other ways to make her miserable. A snake in her bed perhaps? No, the blasted woman probably liked snakes. A spider? Didn't everyone hate spiders?”

“The slanted light of dawn was rippling through the windowpane, and Miss Anne Sainsbury was huddled beneath her thin blanket, wondering, as she often did, where she would find money for her next meal."That was really good. Even he wanted to know what happened to Miss Sainsbury, and he was making it up.”

“She slid a slim volume of poetry off the shelf and returned to her chair, swishing her rather unnattractive skirts before she sat down.Benedict frowned. He'd never really noticed before how ugly her dress was. Not as bad as the one Mrs. Cabtree had lent her, but certainly not anything designed to bring out the best in a woman. He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it,of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned..."Mr. Bridgerton?"But how could he manage to burn her dress? She'd have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself..."Are you even listening to me?" Sophie demanded."Hmmm?""You're not listening to me.""Sorry," he admitted. "My apologies. My mind got away from me. Please continue."She began anew, and in his attempt to show how much attention he was paying her, he focused his eyes on her lips, which proved to be a big mistake.Because suddenly those lips were all he could see, and he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her, and he knew- absolutely knew-that if one of them didn't leave the room in the next thirty seconds, he was going to do something for which he'd owe her a thousand apologies.Not that he didn't plan to seduce her. Just that he'd rather do it with a bit more finesse."Oh, dear," he blurted out.Sophie gave him an odd look. He didn't blame her. He sounded like a complete idiot. He didn't think he'd uttered the phrase, "Oh,dear," in years. If ever.Hell,he sounded like his mother."Is something wrong?" Sophie asked."I just remembered something," he said, rather stupidly, in his opinion.She raised her brows in question."Something that I'd forgotten," Benedict said."The things one remembers," she said, looking exceedingly amused, "are most often things one had forgotten.”