“I would rather die a spinster—poor, ruined, scorned, and alone—than suffer that heartbreak daily.”

“I'm not going to accept your challenge. There will be no duel.""Why not? Because I'm a woman?""No, because I've seen the way you spinsters handle a pistol. You'd shoot me dead where I stood.”

“As for Diana . . . sometimes I think the kindest thing I could do for my sister is ruin her chances of making a ‘good’ marriage. Then she might make a loving one.”

“That’s it,” she said, balling her hands in fists. “I’m not letting you out of it this time. I insist that you take me to Scotland. I demand you ruin me. As a point of honor.”

“He laughed. A strained, ha, ha, ha, I may die of this laugh.”

“This explains so much," she said, clucking her tongue in mother-hen fashion. "You're compensating for this withered appendage."Withered appendage? What the devil was she talking about? He shook his head, trying to clear it. Colin's dire predictions of shriveled twigs and dried currants rattled in his skull. Wide awake now, he fought to sit up, wrestling the sheets."Listen, you. I don't know what sort of liberties you've taken while I was insensible, or just what your spinster imagination prepared you to see. But I'll have you know, that water was damned cold."She blinked at him. "I'm referring to your leg.""Oh." His leg. That withered appendage”

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you,” she said, breathing hard. “But it would take far more than that to scare me.”A quick flex of his arms, and their bodies collided. And he whispered, just as his mouth fell on hers, “God, I was hoping you’d say that.”