“I'm in a mood to knock someone down, and you'll do very well.""Don't tell me," Longmore said. "The dressmaker doesn't want you, either. By gad, this isn't your day, is it? Not your week, rather.”

“We have been wed scarcely three days," she said. "You do not desert your new bride for your sapskull friends. You will not make a laughingstock of me. If you are unhappy with me, you say so, and we discuss it— or quarrel, if you prefer. But you do not—""You do not dictate to me," he said levelly. "You do not tell me where I may and may not go— or when — or with whom. I do not explain to you and you do not question. And you do not come into my room and throw temper fits.""Yes, I do," she said. "If you leave this house, I will shoot your horse out from under you.""Shoot my—""I will not permit you to desert me," she said. "You will not take me for granted as Sherburne does his wife, and you will not make all the world laugh at me— or pity me —as they do her. If you cannot bear to miss your precious wrestling match, you can jolly well take me with you.""Take you?" His voice climbed. "I'll bloody well take you, madam— straight to your room. And lock you in, if you can't behave yourself.”

“I know why you want to wear the plum,” Marcelline said. “It’s ravishing. It’ll make Longmore swoon.”“It might make him do some things,” Sophy said. “But swooning isn’t one of them. He’s the sort of man who tells a girl he l-loves her—and then l-laughs. As thoughit’s a j-joke.”

“If you try to find a replacement, you'll be sadly disappointed, I can't be replaced. I'm the only man in all the world who possesses the right combination of qualities for you.You can turn your Ballister stare upon me all you like, but you can't petrify me. You can knock me about to your heart's content without worrying about doing any damage. You can perpetrate any sort of outrage your wicked mind conceives and be sure I'll join in, with a will. You're a troublemaker, Lydia. A Ballister devil. Nothing less than a Mallory hellion would ever suit you."- Vere Mallory -”

“The whole thing’s absurd,” he said. “Your sister married a duke. I told Clevedon . . .” he trailed off.“What did you tell him?”“Never mind that now,” he said.“I certainly will mind it now,” she said.“Do you want to find Clara or do you want to quarrel?” he said.“Preferably both,” she said.”

“Don't you remember telling me that you're the brain and I'm the brawn? Naturally I expect you to do all the talking. And naturally I shall knockheads and toss people out of windows as required. Or did I misunderstand? Did you want me to think, too?”

“Just listen,” she said. “You can’t kill him in cold blood.” “Whyever not?” Ye gods grant me patience. “Because he’ll be dead,” she said as patiently as she could, “and Lady Clara’s reputation will be stained forever. Do not, I pray you, do anything, Lord Longmore. Leave this to us.” “Us.” “My sisters and me.” “What do you propose? Dressing him to death? Tying him up and making him listen to fashion descriptions?”