The Lost Duke Of Wyndham Quotes

She needed him to be him. Even if he could not be hers.

I didn't think I should die but I did not know how I would Live.

He would not give her up,he could not.For the first time in his life he'd found someone who filled all the empty spaces in his heart

It wasn‟t even desire. It was far more than that. It was love. Love. With a capital L and swirly script and hearts and flowers and whatever else the angels— and yes, all those annoying little cupids—wished to use for embellishment.

In this room,in this minite,she was his everything

Grace-" He scowled, then laughed. "What the devil is your middle name?" "Catriona." she whispered. "Grace Catriona Eversleigh," he said, loud and sure, "I love you.

I don‟t know what to say,” she whispered. “Normally, I‟d advise „thank you,‟ but as I am the one thanking you, a mere „You are a prince among men‟ would suffice.

Five years with the dowager - Good God, she ought to be given a title in her own right as a penance for such as that. No one had done more for England.

His hand was on her arm, and he could feel her skin, feel the soft warmth of it, and then when he looked down, her face was tilted toward his, and her eyes, deep and blue but so completely unmysterious, were gazing up at him, and in truth there was no way—simply no way—he could do anything in that moment but kiss her. Anything else would have been a tragedy.

Lovely house,” Jack said, as he was led—hands still bound—through the grand entrance of Belgrave. He turned to the old lady. “Did you decorate? It has that woman‟s touch.” Miss Eversleigh was trailing behind, but he could hear her choke back a bubble of laughter. “Oh, let it out, Miss Eversleigh,” he called over his shoulder. “Much better for your constitution.

Very well,” he said with a small sigh. “Ladies today are so very capable. It breaks my hea rt, really.” He leaned in, almost as if sharing a secret. “No one likes to feel superfluous.” Grace just stared at him. “Rendered mute by my grace and charm,” he said, stepping back to allow them to exit. “It happens all the time. Really, I shouldn‟t be allowed near the ladies. I have such a vexing effect on you.

Will you leave my companion alone!” the dowager barked. He sighed and shook his head toward Miss Eversleigh. “She‟s so domineering, don‟t you think?” Miss Eversleigh blushed. Truly, it was the prettiest pink he‟d ever seen. “Pity about these bindings,” he continued. “We do seem to be caught in a romantic moment, your employer‟s acidic presence aside, and it would be far easier to drop one exquisite kiss on the back of your hand were I able to lift it with one of mine.

She should have been relieved that she did not do something she was sure to regret. But she wasn't. She wanted her regrets. She wanted them desperately. She wanted to do something she knew she should not, and she wanted to lie in bed at night letting the memory keep her warm.

It's still horrible. The whole thing." "Dreadful," Grace agreed. Amelia turned and looked at her directly. "Sodding bad." Grace gasped, "Amelia!" Amelia's face wrinkled in thought. "Did I use that correctly?" "I wouldn't know." "Oh, come now, don't tell me you haven't thought something just as unladylike." "I wouldn't say it." The look Amelia gave her was clear as a dare. "But you thought it." Grace felt her lips twitch. "It's a dammed shame." "A bloody inconvenience, if you ask me.

He just wanted to see it. From afar. To see what might have been, what he was glad hadn't been. But maybe should have been.

Your talents are for pointing guns and removing necklaces off ladies' necks?' 'I charm the necklaces off their necks ... Kindly make the distinction.' 'Oh, please.' 'I charmed you.' She was all indignation. 'You did not.' 'Recall the night in question, Miss Eversleigh. The moonlight, the soft wind.' 'There was no wind.' 'You're spoiling my memory,' he growled. 'There was no wind,' she stated. 'You are romanticizing the encounter.' 'Can you blame me? he returned, smiling at her wickedly. 'I never know who is going to step through the carriage door. Most of the time I get a wheezy old badger.

I'm not sure what it means." Grace frowned. "I don't think I do either." "It sounds bad, though." "Sodding bad." Grace said with a smile, and she patted Amelia's hand. Amelia sighed. "A dammed shame." We are repeating ourselves." Grace pointed out. "I know." Amelia said, but with a fair bit of feeling. "But whose fault is ut? Not ours. We've been far too sheltered." "Now that," Grace announced with a flair, "really is a dammed shame!" "A bloody inconvenience, if you ask me.

One would think her tired mind would go utterly blank, but the opposite was true. She could not stop thinking about the highwayman. And his kiss. And his identity. And his kiss. And if she would meet him again. And that he'd kissed her. And-

It‟s not your fault you had no siblings,” he told her. “You have no experience in intrafamilial squabbles. Trust me, it all works out in the end. I predict we shall manage to get all four to adulthood with at least fifteen of their major limbs intact.

She inched forward, although she wasn't sure why. If the dowager started spouting off about the highwayman and his resemblance to her favorite son, it wasn't as if she would be able to stop her. But still, the proximity at least gave the illusion that she might be able to prevent disaster.

Art,' she said. 'My second favorite subject.' She gave him a shrewd look. 'You wish for me to ask you what your favorite is.' 'Am I so obvious?' 'You are only obvious when you wish to be.' 'And alas, it still doesn't work. You have not asked me what my favorite subject is.' 'Because,' she returned, sitting down, 'I am quite certain the answer will contain something highly inappropriate.' He placed one hand on his chest, the dramatic gesture somehow restoring his equilibrium. It was easier to play the jester. No one expected as much from fools. 'I am wounded,' he proclaimed. 'I promise you, I was not going to say that my favorite subject was seduction, or the art of a kiss, or the proper way to remove a lady's glove, or for that matter the proper way to remove - ' 'Stop!

I hate maps.' 'Really?' She sounded stunned, and maybe just a little bit delighted by his admission. 'Why?' He told her the truth. 'I haven't the talent for reading them.' 'And you, a highwayman.' 'What has that to do with it?' 'Don't you need to know where you're going?' 'Not nearly so much as I need to know where I've been ... There are certain areas of the country - possibly all of Kent, to be honest - it is best that I avoid.' 'This is one of those moments,' she said, blinking several times in rapid succession, 'when I am not quite certain if you are being serious.' 'Oh, very much so,' he told her, almost cheerfully. 'Except perhaps for the bit about Kent ... I might have been understating.' 'Understating,' she echoed. 'There's a reason I avoid the South.' 'Good heavens.

The trip to Ireland...' her father was saying. 'Is to determine his legitimacy,' Wyndham confirmed. And then, with a morbidly jolly expression, he continued, 'It's going to be quite a party. Even my grandmother is going.

Wyndham was a bore, in his humble opinion, but everything he did, every last decision and action - they were for others. It was all for Wyndham - the heritage, not the person. It was impossible not to respect such a man. But this was different. The duke wasn't standing up for his people, he was standing up for one person. It was a far more difficult thing to do.

He still had dreams about it. Certainly not nightmares - it could not be worth the energy. But every month or so he woke up from one of those annoying visions where he was back at school (rather absurdly at his current age of eight-and-twenty). It was always of a similar nature. He looked down at his schedule and suddenly realized he'd forgotten to attend Latin class for an entire term. Or arrived for an exam without his trousers.

There was a very slight lilt to it, too, attesting to a childhood spent far from Lincolnshire, and Grace felt herself sway, as if she could fall forward, lightly, softly, and land somewhere else. Far, far from here.

As she walked slowly down the hall, she could hear them arguing - nothing violent, nothing impassioned. But then, she'd not have expected that. Cavendish tempers ran cold, and they were far more likely to attack with a frozen barb than a heated cry.

It had been a marvelous childhood. Damn near perfect. If he was not leading the life he'd anticipated, if he sometimes lay in bed and wondered what the hell he was doing robbing coaches in the dead of night - at least he knew that the road to this point had been paved with his own choices, his own flaws.

dowager grumbled a bit about that, using the same peevish