“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.”

“Cal was dressed in a Hex Hall uniform. The blazer was a little tight on his broad shoulders, more so when he shrugged. "It was mine.Mrs. Casnoff brought it with her. I don't really, uh, do costumes. Figured this was a good compromise."I'd thought no one but Archer could make that uniform look good, but Cal proved me wrong. The bright blue was nice against his tan skin and golden hair, and he looked younger. There was a dimple in his cheek as he smiled at me-something I'd never noticed before. "You make a good Hecate," he said.I would have snorted and made a sarcastic comment, but there was something in his eyes that made me just say, "Thanks.”

“I didn't think he was a very 'nice' person,' says Chichilnisky [about Jeff Bezos]. 'I liked him, but he was not warm. I'm not criticising him, not a bit. It was like he could be a Martian for all I knew. A well-meaning, nice Martian.”

“But that’s what happens when you allow a nice person to write a news paper serial for you; now the world thinks you’re nice, too, which is silly in the extreme. Sadly, it’s a burden that you must bear.”

“She eyed him uncertainly. “Very well. Nick wants me, but he’s decided not to… to…” She flounderedto a halt and the tears that threatened in her eyes became reality. One, single drop slipped down hercheek.Bloody hell. Anthony raked a hand through his hair. “Do you mean to tell me that Bridgeton is not… er,fulfilling his husbandly duties?”She nodded miserably. “Oh, Anthony, what am I to do?”He closed his eyes. God above. He was a decent man, one who took his responsibilities seriously. Hewas a good friend, an excellent landlord, and he never cheated at cards, unless it was with one of his ownbrothers. What had he done to deserve this?”

“He couldn't have eaten that horrid soup!""He did,and he even pretended to like it.""Pretended?""No one could have liked that meal." She wrinkled her nose. "Mary was mortified.""Mary can be mortified all she wishes; we can't have MacLean da-"Sophia slipped the spoon into his mouth and dumped the contents.Red choked, his face contorting, and he looked around wildly."Do not spit that out."He glared at her, and after what appeared and sounded like a heroic effort, he swallowed the laudanum. "Blech! There! I hope ye're happy!" He grabbed up a hand cloth and began rubbing his tongue vigorously. She calmly replaced the spoon and recorked the bottle. "As I was saying, MacLean swore that he liked every dish at dinner, even the turnips. They were so hard it almost broke my knife to cut one.""Hm.That's very odd,it is.”

“Jane?” She lifted her brows. “Yes?”“If you so much as hum one word, I shall stuff one of your gloves into your mouth.” “Tsk,tsk.”She assumed an exaggerated sad look.“It’s like that,is it?”