“It was juvenile, he knew, this need to assign blame, but everyone had a right to childish emotions from time to time, didn't they?”
“No, Belle needed him. He had to save her from a disastrous marriage. And then, he supposed, he'd simply marry her himself.John wasn't unaware that he was about to pull one of the greatest about-faces in history. He could only hope that Belle would understand that he had realized she'd had been right all along. People made mistakes, didn't they? After all, he wasn't some infallible storybook hero.”
“Any man, you'll soon learn, has an insurmountable need to blame someone else when he is made to look a fool.”
“He was the firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton of a firstborn Bridgerton eight times over. He had a dynastic responsibility to be fruitful and multiply.”
“He didn’t know where the thought had come from, or what strange corner of his brain had come to that conclusion, because he was quite certain it would be nearly impossible to live with her, but somehow he knew that it wouldn’t be at all difficult to love her.”
“If someone loved you -someone decent and kind that is- you had a responsibility not to trample all over her heart. And while he had no intention of hurting Emma, he knew that he could injure her just by not loving her back. Of course, maybe, he did love her back.But then again, maybe she didn't love him in the first place. She hadn't actually said as much. He couldn't very well love someone back if she didn't love him first.He could, however, love her first.And that meant that he was going to have to convince her to love him back.But the question was moot anyway because he hadn't yet decided to love her.Or had he?”
“He saw nothing but the gentle ruffling of the leaves in the wind, but as he finished his sweep of the area, he somehow knew."Sophie!"He heard a gasp, followed by a huge flurry of activity."Sophie Beckett," he yelled, "if you run from me right now, I swear I will follow you,and I will not take the time to don my clothing."The noises coming from the shore slowed."I will catch up with you," he continued, "because I'm stronger and faster. And I might very well feel compelled to tackle you to the ground, just to be certain you do not escape."The sounds of her movements ceased."Good," he grunted. "Show yourself."She didn't."Sophie," he warned.There was a beat of silence, followed by the sound of slow, hesitant footsteps, and then he saw her, standing on the shore in one of those awful dresses he'd like to see sunk to the bottom of the Thames."What are you doing here?" he demanded."I went for a walk.What are you doing here?" she countered. "You're supposed to be ill.That-" she waved her arm toward him and, by extension, the pond- "can't possibly be good for you."He ignored her question and comment. "Were you following me?""Of course not," she replied, and he rather believed her. He didn't think she possessed the acting talents to fake that level of righteousness."I would never follow you to a swimming hole," she continued. "It would be indecent."And then her face went completely red, because they both knew she hadn't a leg to stand on with that argument. If she had truly been concerned about decency, she'd have left the pond the second she'd seen him, accidentally or not.”