“How could she go on without him? And, at the same time, how could she go on knowing that everymoment of their time together had meant so little to him”

“She had wanted more than she could have.She had wanted him, and more... she had wanted him to want her.In the name of something bigger than tradition, bolder than reputation, more important than a silly title.”

“She’d so believed he could—that decades marked by disdain for emotion could have been nothing more than a faint memory in his checkered past. That she could love him enough to prove to him that the world was worth his caring, his trust. That she could turn him into the man of whom she had dreamed for so long.That was perhaps the hardest truth of all—that Ralston, the man she’d pined over for a decade, had never been real. He’d never been the strong and silent Odysseus; he’d never been aloof Darcy; never Antony, powerful and passionate. He had only ever been Ralston, arrogant and flawed and altogether flesh and blood.”

“How is it that one woman is…enough…for three men?”“I don’t know.”“She must be a very talented courtesan.”“Callie.”“Well, that was what she was. Wasn’t it?”“Yes.”“How very fascinating!” She smiled brightly. “I’ve never met a courtesan, you know.”“I could have surmised as such.”“She looked just as I imagined they did! Well, she was rather prettier.”Ralston’s eyes darted around the room as though he was looking for the quickest escape route.“Callie. Wouldn’t you rather gamble than talk about courtesans?”

“What does Éloa mean?”He narrowed his gaze, answered her literally. “It’s the name of an angel.”Penelope tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve never heard of him.”“You wouldn’t have.”“Was he a fallen angel?”“She was, yes.” He hesitated, not wanting to tell her the story, but unable to stop himself. “Lucifer tricked her into falling from heaven.”“Tricked her how?”He met her gaze. “She fell in love with him.”Penelope’s eyes widened. “Did he love her?”Like an addict loves his addiction. “The only way he knew how.”She shook her head. “How could he trick her?”“He never told her his name.”

“{Calpurnia)"My mother…she’s desperate for a daughter she can dress like a porcelain doll. Sadly, I shall never be such a child. How I long for my sister to come out and distract the countess from my person."He joined her on the bench, asking, "How old is your sister?""Eight," she said, mournfully."Ah. Not ideal.""An understatement." She looked up at the star-filled sky. "No, I shall be long on the shelf by the time she makes her debut.""What makes you so certain you’re shelf-bound?"She cast him a sidelong glance. "While I appreciate your chivalry, my lord, your feigned ignorance insults us both." When he failed to reply, she stared down at her hands, and replied, "My choices are rather limited.""How so?""I seem able to have my pick of the impoverished, the aged, and the deadly dull.”

“You realize that is you allow me to court you, all your opposition to marriage is going to have to be reconsidered."She smiled, feigning innocence."What opposition to marriage?""Excellent.""But I'm thinking we should have a long courtship.""Why?" He looked surprised."Because i find I've developed a taste for adventure.""That sounds dangerous. Not at all in character for a delicate flower."She laughed." We know I've never been good at being a delicate flower. Besides, it shan't be too dangerous.""How can you be so sure?"She smiled brilliantly at him, taking his breath away."Because, on my next adventure, I'll have you by my side.”