“Upon seeing Evie, her friends rushed toward her with unladylike squeals, and Evie let out her own laughing shriek as they collided in a circle of tightly hugging arms and exuberant kisses. In their shared excitement, the three young women continued to exclaim and scream, until someone burst into the room.It was Cam, his eyes wide, his breathing fast, as if he had come at a dead run. His alert gaze flashed across the room, taking in the situation. Slowly his lean frame relaxed. "Damn," he muttered. "I thought something was wrong.""Everything is fine, Cam," Evie said with a smile, while Annabelle kept an arm around her shoulders. "My friends are here, that's all."Glancing at Sebastian, Cam remarked sourly, "I've heard less noise form the hogs at slaughter time."There was a sudden suspicious tension around Sebastian's jaw, as if he were fighting to suppress a grin. "Mrs. Hunt, Miss Bowman, this is Mr. Rohan. You must pardon his lack of tact, as he is...""A ruffian?" Daisy suggested innocently.This time Sebastian could not prevent a smile. "I was going to say 'unused to the presence of ladies at the club.'""Is that what the are?" Cam asked, casting a dubious glance at the visitors, his attention lingering for a moment on Daisy's small face.Pointedly ignoring Cam, Daisy spoke to Annabelle. "I've always heard that Gypsies are known for their charm. An unfounded myth, it seems."Cam's golden eyes narrowed into tigerish slits.”

“Of all the Hathaway sisters,” Cam said equably, “Beatrix is the one most suited to choose her own husband. I trust her judgment.”Beatrix gave him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Cam.”“What are you thinking?” Leo demanded of his brother-in-law. “You can’t trust Beatrix’s judgment.”“Why not?”“She’s too young,” Leo said.“I’m twenty-three,” Beatrix protested. “In dog years I’d be dead.”

“Captain Phelan,” Cam asked, choosing his words with care. “Have you come to ask for our consent to marry Beatrix?”Christopher shook his head. “If I decide to marry Beatrix, I’ll do it with or without your consent.”Leo looked at Cam. “Good God,” he said in disgust. “This one’s worse than Harry.”

“Ghost?” St. Vincent shot him an incredulous glance. “Christ. You’re not serious, are you?” "I’m a Gypsy,” Cam replied matter-of-factly. “Of course I believe in ghosts.”“Only half Gypsy. Which led me to assume that the rest of you was at least marginally sane and rational.”“The other half is Irish,” Cam said a touch apologetically.“Christ,” St. Vincent said again, shaking his head as he strode away.”

“And this must be Avery?""Oh, God, no," Cam said. "This is Candy, Mom."His mother's eyes widened and a bit of color infused her cheeks. "Uh, I'm...""I'm Avery," I said, shooting Cam a look. "You had it right."She spun around, smacking Cam across the arm. Hard, too. "Cameron! Oh my God. I thought..." She smacked him again and he laughed. "You're terrible.”

“Believe me, when my ‘personal endowments’ are being discussed, I always pay attention.” ~ Cam Rohan”

“Annabelle, what happened to you?” Lillian asked the next morning. “You look dreadful. Why aren’t you wearing your riding habit? I thought you were going to try out the jumping course this morning. And why did you disappearso suddenly last night? It’s not like you to simply vanish without saying—”“I didn’t have a choice in the matter,” Annabelle said testily, folding her fingers around the delicate bowl of a porcelain teacup. Looking pale and exhausted, her blue eyes ringed with dark shadows, she swallowed a mouthful of heavily sweetened tea before continuing. “It was that blasted perfume of yours—as soon as he caught one whiff of it, he went berserk.”Shocked, Lillian tried to take in the information, her stomach plummeting. “It… it had an effect on Westcliff, then?” she managed to ask.“Good Lord, not Lord Westcliff.” Annabelle rubbed her weary eyes. “He couldn’t have cared less what I smelled like. It was my husband who went completely mad. After he caught the scent of that stuff, he dragged me up to our room and…well, suffice it to say, Mr. Hunt kept me awake all night. All night ,” she repeated in sullen emphasis, and drank deeply of the tea.“Doing what?” Daisy asked blankly.Lillian, who was feeling a rush of relief that Lord Westcliff had not been attracted to Annabelle while shewas wearing the perfume, gave her younger sister a derisive glance. “What do you think they were doing? Playing a few hands of Find-the-Lady?”