“For a real knight, rescuing maidens would be an everyday event."..."Perhaps a true knight saves himself for the right maiden”

“Perhaps the truth was there was no perfect marriage, just some really good ones.”

“Perhaps I should just leave after all."She whirled on him. "No! I'm just trying to find the right words,and I-oh,it's complicated!""Lies usually are."She wetted her lips. "Lies?"He raised his brow.She sighed, her shoulders slumping, an expression almost of relief crossing her face. "You know."Dougal nodded."Everything?"He nodded again."How we tried to conceal the house's value? And disguised the beautiful paneling in the library? And-""Blocked up the chimneys and hid the good furnishings and served me food a dead man would refuse."She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about that.""No,you're not. You wanted me unhappy and uncomfortable.""Well,yes-but not very uncomfortable.”

“I'll see you when you're done with your interrogation.""I am not going to interrogate anyone!"Jack grinned. "Of course not.You're just going to ask questions." He cast a glance at Perkins. "Lady Kincaid will be with our guest shortly.""Yes,my lord." The butler bowed and left.Fiona frowned at the steady beat of rain against the window. "Dougal will catch his death,riding in such a rain."Jack shrugged. "He made it; let him swim in it." He pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead. "I'll be curious to hear about this woman."Fiona absently nodded.If what Jack suspected wer true and Miss MacFarlane was the cause of Dougal's gloom, then woe betide the lady!Chin high, she swept into the entryway. Standing in the center of the hall was a woman with gray curly hair and freckles, broad as a barn and dressed as a servant. Fiona almost tripped over her own feet. Surely,this was not the sort of woman Dougal pursued? But perhaps...perhaps it was true love. Was that why Dougal had been so surly?Fiona gathered her scattered wits and put a polite smile on her face. "Miss MacFarlane? Welcome to-"A soft cough halted Fiona, and the woman before her pointed behind Fiona.She turned around and knew instantly that she was indeed facing the cause of Dougal's storms. Miss MacFarlane wasn't simply beautiful; the girl was breathtaking.”

“Perhaps we should spice up our next wager."A wary look entered her blue eyes. "How?""By wagering your mother's necklace against...your clothing."She froze, her arms over her head, her eyes wide. "My clothing?""Yes. Your gown-against your mother's neckace." His body was already hard at the thought of her standing before him in nothing but her chemise and stockings.Sophia lowered her arms with a teasing smile. "I doubt it will fit you."A surprised laugh broke from him. "That would be a sight. But to be crystal clear, if I win this hand, you will disrobe for me.”

“I'm sorry your chair collapsed, but the furnishings are in as poor repair as the roof."He retrieved his abandoned glass of sherry."I assume the rook leaks.""Only when it rains."His eyes warmed with laughter as he watched her over the rim of his glass. "I'm surprised you countenance this place.""I'm here for my father. Once he returns and you take the house, I will be on my way.""May I ask where?""Italy,perhaps. Or France." She shrugged. "I haven't yet decided.""I love Italy." His voice deepened the faintest bit. "I imagine Italy would love you,too.”

“Jane, last night was” — he raked a hand through his hair — “nice.” Her expression could only be described as crestfallen. “No,”he hurried to say. “Don’t look like that! I didn’t mean ‘nice.’ In fact, it wasn’t nice at all.” Her brows lowered. “No?” “No.I mean, yes! Yes, it was nice, but it was also very, very—” He tried with all of his might to grasp a word that would encompass that heart - pounding exertion that even now was making his balls hum,but to his horror, he heard himself say once again,“ —nice. But really, really, really nice.”