“Harry - “No plovers no pigeons no snipe. No oysters mussels clams or whole lobsters. No artichokes no savories no cheese.” He paused for breath then went on “Nothing too rich nothing too highly seasoned. And never more than one glass of wine. Did I miss any no-noes ” Emma - She sighed. “When it comes to my work I do wish you would be serious.”Harry - “I am serious ” he assured her. “After reading this I understand why women have such tiny waists and go about fainting all the time. I thought it was corsets but no. You’re all hungry .”

“She gave him a dubious look, as if he wasn’t quite right in the head. "Sometimes, Englishman, I do not understand you. I love you, but I do not always understand you."She turned and started across the meadow. He remained where he was and watched her walk away, with her skirts in her hand and the sun on her hair."I love you, too," he said, but only after she was too far away to hear. "I always have.”

“If you’re not gratified, you should be,” he told her as he tucked the letter back in the breast pocket of his jacket. “All the other members of my staff were running around like panicked rabbits without you.”“But not you, I am sure.”“I was too astonished to panic.”

“This was why I did what I did," she whispered. "I looked at those men at the ball, and I thought of that night in the carriage when you touched me, and I knew I could never let any of them touch me." She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, pressing his hands to her breasts. "Only you.”

“If Flynn’s as you say, the boy—Simon, you called him?—Simon should be all too happy to come away with us. I’ve no ill will toward him.”“You might remember Simon’s the one who gave you a great clout on the head,” she said.David waved it away. “And why shouldn’t he? He likely thought I was about to maul your unconscious person.”

“I enjoyed reading when I was a boy, but these days, I read all the time and it has rather taken the pleasure out of it for me. When I am at leisure, reading is the last thing I want to do.”“That makes sense, I suppose. But for me, reading is an adventure. It makes me an armchair traveler and takes me places I shall never be able to go.”

“He likes you,” Miss Dove said, sounding surprised.“Yes,” Harry answered with an unhappy sigh. He had long ago accepted the fact that cats adored him. The reason, of course, was because both God and cats had the same perverse sense of humor. When the animal buried its claws in his thigh and began to knead with happy abandon, he set his jaw and bore it. “Mr. Pigeon? Rather fitting for you to choose that name, Miss Dove. Both birds, you know.”