“I've always started every day by going to the window for a glimpse of the sky. But now I won't have to.""Why not?" She asked softly."Because I'll see the blue of your eyes instead.""How romantic you are," she murmured with a grin, kissing him gently. "But don't worry. I won't tell anyone.”
“The boy heaved a sigh. "I would ask to go with you," he said, " but I have to finish my lessons. I so look forward to the day when I know everything. Then I won't have to read any more books or do any more counting."Beatrix smiled. "I don't wish to be discouraging, Rye, but it's not possible to know everything.""Mama does." Rye paused reflectively. "At least, Papa says we mus t pretend she does, because it makes her happy.""Your father," Beatrix informed him with a laugh, " is one of the wisest men I've ever known.”
“Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.”“Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh.He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches.”
“Kiss me,” she said urgently.Sam’s eyes flickered with mild surprise. “Right now?”“Yes.”“What kind of kiss?”“What do you mean, what kind of kiss? Just a regular kiss.”“A friendly kiss, or a romantic kiss? Are we supposed to be going out together, or—““Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she exclaimed, and pulled his head down to hers.”
“I love you," Sam said, and set his mouth against hers, and broke off the kiss because he had to say it again. "I love you."Lucy's trembling fingers came to his lips, caressing them gently, "Are you sure? How do you know it's not just about sex?""It is about sex...sex with your mind, sex with your soul, sex with the color of your eyes, the smell of your skin. I want to sleep in your bed. I want you to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see at night. I love you the way I never thought I could love anyone.”
“You've always been a know-it-all. Well, you're about to find out how much you don't know.""Believe me," I muttered, "I'm the first one to admit that I have no clue about any of this stuff. I had nothing to do with it. This isn't my baby.""Then give it to Social Services." She was getting agitated. "Whatever happens to him will be your fault, not mine. Get rid of him if you can't handle the responsibility.""I can handle it," I said, my voice quiet. "It's okay, Mom. I'll take care of him. You don't have to worry about anything."She subsided like a child who had just been mollified by a lollipop. "You'll have to learn the way I did," she said after a moment, reaching down to adjust her toe ring.A hint of satisfaction edged her tone as she added, "The hard way.”
“I can't see why you should want to dance with me now, when you never have before." The statement was more revealing than she had intended it to be. She cursed her own wayward tongue, while his speculative gaze wandered over her face."I wanted to," he surprised her by murmuring. "However, there always seemed to be good reasons not to.""Why--""Besides," Westcliff interrupted, reaching out to take her gloved hand, "there was hardly a point in asking when your refusal was a forgone conclusion." Deftly he pressed her hand to his arm and led her toward the mass of couples in the center of the room."It was not a forgone conclusion."Westcliff glanced at her skeptically. "You're saying that you would have accepted me?""I might have.""I doubt it.""I did just now, didn't I?""You had to. It was a debt of honor."She couldn't help but laugh. "For what, my lord?""The calf's head," he reminded her succinctly."Well, if you hadn't served such a nasty object in the first place, I wouldn't have needed to be rescued!""You wouldn't have need to be rescued if you didn't have such a weak stomach.""You're not supposed to mention body parts in front of a lady," she said virtuously. "Your mother said so."Westcliff grinned. "I stand corrected.”