“Roses," Georgiana repeated, her thoughtful gaze touching his. "It's about time one of the Carroway mendecided to cultivate something other than their poor reputations.”

“May I suggest that you all read? And often. Believe me, it's nice to have something to talk about other than the weather and the Queen's health. Your mind is not a cage. It's a garden. And it requires cultivating.”

“He turned to shut and lock the door, thencame close, his gaze touching her features. “I missed you, Holly.”Her heart caught painfully. The poor organ seemed to be gettingquite the workout lately.”

“A hint of a frown touched his mouth. “I told you that wasn’t about feeding.”“No, it was about you making your point.” I skewered a bite and chewed. “Next time, maybe use something other than myjugular as your Exhibit A?”

“It required all his delicate Epicurean education to prevent his doing something about it; he had to repeat over to himself his favorite notions: that the injustice and unhappiness in the world is a constant; that the theory of progress is a delusion; that the poor, never having known happiness, are insensible to misfortune. Like all the rich he could not bring himself to believe that the poor (look at their houses, look at their clothes) could really suffer. Like all the cultivated he believed that only the widely read could be said to know that they were unhappy.”

“The feel of her body against his was exhilarating, driving all rational thought from his head. “All right, prepareyourself, Claire Brennan.”She looked up at him curiously. “Prepare myself forwhat?”He gazed at her affectionately. “Repeat your mantra, orwhatever it is you do. Because I’m about to kiss you.”