“Well, it is a good thing he died young. Most men don’t have the good sense to knowwhen to quit this earth. At least your husband didn’t drag on and on like some do.”

“I am quite out of patience with him." Fiona Kincaid set her teacup on the small tray with a decided click. "Dougal's been in a horrid temper since he arrived.""I like him better this way," Fiona's handsome husband retorted. "He barely said a word over breakfast."She gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm surprised you two don't get along better, as you're very similar." Jack's flat stare made her add hastily, "In some things.""In very few things.”

“...then tossed the coat into the water. “Hurst! That’s a perfectly good coat!” “Yes, and I have a perfectly good life. One of those two things is not replaceable.”

“You don't have to say a thing except yes. You don't have to do anything, either, I'm quite willing to plan it all." "You?""Yes me.""You'd plan all of it? Even the wedding?""Why not?""You don't even like to plan your own breakfast."He grinned. "You mean more to me tban bacon.""More than [i]bacon?[/i] I'm honored.""You should be, my foolish pea brain.”

“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 was going to enjoy pressing his little scheming hostess into improprieties she'd not soon forget. He didn't need a storm to make his point; he had his own powers of persuasion-and he'd use them all on her.He led her to the library, to the table holding the sherry. "Will you do the honors?" He leaned forward and added in a low voice, "Or perhaps you'd like us to do it together-your hand under mine, your fingers wrapped around the neck of the decanter as we-"Color flooded her cheeks, and she said in a breathless voice, "I will be glad to pour us some sherry-though I'm surprised you wish for some more.""It is wretched, but your cook has ruined my palate.When I return to London, I won't know good port from bad, burned meat from raw, and don't begin to talk to me about soups.”

“You learn a lot about a person by the way he plays cards."Then it was a good thing no one had seen her play.”