“As I reach my thirtieth year of service as a butler in a gentleman’s household, I find myself looking back. Between my secret recipe for boot blacking (an indispensable tool for a butler), and a vastly superior method to remove wine stains from velvet (which some will erroneously hold to be an impossibility), I find my memories salted with some faint wisdoms, a few tested experiences, and many, many interesting stories.”

“I believe I will sit,but not on this chair. The settee is the most welcoming piece in the room,especially with you sitting on it.""Yes,but-"He sat,his hip brushing hers.She scrambled to move to one side, but he'd deliberately sat on the edge of her skirt.Her gaze narrowed, and she said stiffly, "I beg your pardon,but you are sitting on my skirt."Dougal smiled and leaned back, resting his arms along the back of the settee so that she was closed in by him. He found himself charmed by the thought. "Lord MacLean, I have asked you kindly to remove yourself from my skirt. Please do so, or I will be forced to take more drastic measures.""Such as?""Calling for Angus," she said flatly. "In case you didn't notice, my butler is larger than the average servant. He could easily pick you up and break you in two."Dougal quirked a brow. "While that behemoth you call a butler could easily pick me up, he'd have to get close to me first."She smiled smugly, setting Dougal's pride on edge. "I wouldn't try him; he's faster than he looks." She cast a glancedown at Dougal's boot. "Plus, you'd have to race through the barnyard, which could prove fatal to your shine."Damn this woman! She taunted with every phrase, teased with every look. He shifted so that his hip was even more firmly pressed to hers.”

“Jack looked at the paper. Devonsgate had listed all twelve footmen: John, Mark, Luke,Thomas…Bloody hell, his butler had hired the entire New Testament.”

“Perhaps you met my mother-she and I look very similar. She and my father traveled quite a bit before I was born.""That's possible,I suppose," he said, as if not enitrely convinced."Sir Reginald." Dougal broke in on their conversation, entirely against common etiquette. "Perhaps you mistake Miss MacFarlane with a dream." He let his gaze linger over her in a similar fashion. "I often do."Sophia's face burned. Fiona choked on her wine, and Jack patted her back, glaring at Dougal. The judge let out a snort of laughter, while Mrs. Kent sent dagger glances at Sophia, and Miss Stanton, oblivious to it all, asked for the salt.”

“I wish I could tell you that I leapt to my feet anyway, snake be dammed. Or that I wrestled the snake and then fought my opponent. But I saw the icy cold disdain in the snake's eyes and did the only prudent thing I could - I froze in my place. After a long few moments, the grew bored and slithered away, as had my opponent. Yet I felt that I had won, for I lived to fight another day.”

“I must admit that I never expected to find such beauty here." His gaze raked her again. "It quite takes my breath away."Sophia quirked a brow. He didn't look breathless. He looked calm and collected-a bit predatory, perhaps, but nothing to suggest that her appearance had been anything more than a pleasant surprise.”

“How am I to get back to my room dressed like this?"He grinned at her, his teeth flashing whitely in the dim light from the fire. "You'll leave a trail of water.""Which the servants will report to your sister.”