Deanna Raybourn Quotes

He cupped the back of her head with one large hand and kissed her, slowly, sweetly, as if he were courting her again. When he pulled away, he wasn't surprised to find the tears that had stood unshed in her eyes were gone. He had always said Delilah Drummond was a force of nature. She had swept into his life with all the impact of a hurricane, and he had never entirely recovered from the first time she had looked up into his eyes and given him her slow, inviting smile.

It seemed a very great folly to attempt to force a declaration from him, but it seemed a greater folly to let him go. If there was a single chance at happiness with him, I was determined to seize it.

To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband's dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching upon the floor.

She had stripped away her own illusions for him, and that was as seductive a thing as any woman could do.

I went to stand next to him, and he gave me his hand, warm and strong. "I am sorry I kept you waiting," I murmured. "I have waited for you the whole of my life," he replied softly. "What is another minute more?

people who had neglected my acquaintance during my widowhood. Widows were skeletons at the feast, dampening everyone else's pleasure,

I will make arrangements for you and Portia to return to London the following day. I will be closing up the house. I am leaving England for a while." "For how long?" I asked him, determined to keep my composure. "Until I am quite recovered from you," he said evenly. "When will you return?" "Never.

The afternoon was brilliant, soft spring sunshine gilding the ancient stone to warm honey, and somewhere, tantalising, just out of reach, the scent of jasmine rose above the odours of donkey and charcoal and leather.

It's the cleverest thing I have ever seen,' she pronounced. 'At first glance, you look like any other countrywoman, but you can move like a man in it.'

'I can move like a scientist,' I corrected. 'And that is more to the point.

It was not mine to tell. He asked for my word I would keep silent."

"I think you might have broken it upon this occasion," Plum returned hotly.

"Then I think you know me not at all," Brisbane countered, his tone deceptively bland. He would put up with Plum's barbs only so long before he took the quarrel further, and that was not an eventuality I cared to see. "Calm yourself, Plum. If I am not upset, you have no call to be." I turned to Brisbane. "I understand why you did not tell me. You are a man of your word. And you know precisely when it is necessary to break it. This was not that time." The look he gave me was mingled gratitude and promise of a significant dose of his attentions later. I shivered a little as Portia entered.

He isn't interested in simple. He wants what he wants. No matter how much trouble she is and no matter whether he even understands it himself.

Your Aunt Hermia will not thank you for attempting to poach her maid. Do not look to me for protection," he advised. "I have my hands quite full with one March lady. I could not rise to the challenge of taking on another.

Do not collect passion into the equation. It is a dangerous foe, Theodora, like keeping a lion in the garden. It might seem safe enough, but it might well destroy you. No, do not yearn for passion. Ask instead for contentment, happiness. Those are to be wished for.

I am sorry " I murmured.
"I know. I ought not to have threatened to beat you " he returned. He pressed a kiss to my hair.
"I just cannot bear to be kept out of your life " I said into the dark.
He gave a sigh. "Julia you daft woman. When you will you understand You are my life.

Plants develop poison as a protection against predation. Should I keep one out simply because it has learnt better than its brothers how to defend itself? Roses have thorns and yet no one ever thinks to ban them from a garden for being prickly.

Earnshaw is quite a famous name, thanks to Miss Brontë . I did not realise there were Earnshaws in this country."

Mrs. Earnshaw gave a sharp nod. "Aye. And Heathcliffs and Eyres, as well. Proper little thieves, those Brontë girls.

I would kiss the ground where your shadow fell just to be near you.

Something had shifted between us, faintly, but the change was almost palpable. Our friendship had sat lightly between us, an ephemeral thing, without weight or gravity. Once, in the Boboli Gardens, under the shadow of a cypress tree on an achingly beautiful October afternoon, he had kissed me, a solemnly sweet and respectful kiss. But weeks had passed and we had not spoken of it. I had attributed it to the sunlight, shimmering gold like Danaë's shower, and had pressed it into the scrapbook of memory, to be taken out and admired now and then, but not to be dwelled upon too seriously. Perhaps I had been mistaken.

My face grew hot. "We were discussing the investigation," I told him quickly. "He was here a quarter of an hour at the most."
Father smiled at me sadly. "My dear girl, if you din't know what mischief can be gotten up to in a quarter of an hour you are no child of mine.

Brisbane continued. "I have led a selfish life, and I have enjoyed it. I cannot imagine a life without my work, and I cannot imagine a life without you, and yet I cannot reconcile the two." My heart, which had given a joyous leap in the middle of his speech, faltered now as I realised what he was trying to say. "I never thought to ask you to give up your work," I began. "But how can I ask you to sit idly by and wait for me to return when every time I kiss you goodbye might be the last?" "Oh, don't!" I told him, fully enraged. "How dare you blame your cowardice upon me?" His lips went white, as did the tiny crescent moon scar high upon his cheekbone. "I beg your pardon?" "Cowardice," I said distinctly. "You hide behind this pretence of fine feeling because you will not declare yourself directly and this gives you a perfect excuse, does it not? Spare poor Julia the horror of being widowed a second time. Put her up on the shelf and keep her out of harm's way whilst you amuse yourself with your dashing adventures." He opened his mouth to speak, but I stepped forward, tipping my head up to rail at him. "I am quite disappointed that you have revealed yourself to be so thoroughly conventional in your philosophy. Have I not proven myself a capable partner?" I demanded. "Have I not stood, side by side, with you, facing peril with equal courage? If you thought for a moment that I would be the meek, quiet, obedient sort of woman who would sit quietly at home mending your socks while you

Did you never think of children then? Ours?" His voice was thick with emotion. "I never expected in the whole of my life that God would be so generous as to give me you. I did not think to ask for more.

Aunt Nell used to say it was not decent to have violet eyes, that they were a telltale sign of bad nature, like ginger hair or a hunchback.

She didn't look at me and I didn't look at her. Some questions are so direct the only way to ask them is sideways.

I reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Do not be too angry with Father. He did not mean it not really."
"Angry? I feel rather sorry for him. We are kindred spirits," he observed with a wry twist of his mouth.
"How so?"
"We both suffer because you will not understand how utterly essential you are to our happiness.

They have different accents in America " Brisbane smiled. "Just as we do here." I waved a hand. "They all sound alike to me.

She had the face of a chocolate box Madonna and larceny in her heart.

One may be elegant or enthusiastic, but seldom both. If

Africa is a land of dreams and memories. It is rifts of remembrance stitched together with the sighs of time.

I see only a little, lady, but I know that your fortune is as twined with his as the ivy to the oak.

Among my favorite half-dozen topics is the field of Victorian female explorers, the intrepid women who packed up their parasols and petticoats and roamed the world in search of adventure. Some were scientists, some artists, some unabashed curiosity-seekers who simply went out to see what they could see.

Without an expectation of success, one is rarely successful.

A tiny smile played over his lips as he glanced down at my hand. "Do you mean to win me over with feminine wiles? I must admit it is a more diverting notion than your usual method of screaming at me like a fishwife."
I did not rise to the bait. I simply looked at him. "Please."
He caught his breath, a slow smile warming his features. "My god, you are trying to seduce me."
"I am not." I said primly. "I am merely trying to get your attention."
He bent swiftly and kissed me hard, pulling back so suddenly I nearly toppled over. "I believe I have already made it quite clear you have my attention.

For the first time in ten years, the March family gathered to perform the Twelfth Night Revels for the village of Blessingstoke, just as they had done in Master Shakespeare's day. The dragon breathed fire while the Turkish Knight brandished his sword at St. George, and when it was finished, the resurrected saint and his sad dragon stood in tableau while the white-robed chorus, of which Portia and I made two, sang of the blood-berried holly and the sweetly clinging ivy. Rather like Brisbane and myself, I thought fancifully. Both evergreen and hardy, one sturdy, one tenacious, and forever undivided. But now there was a new little branch grafted to our union.

Should I be in distress? In a meadow? You mean if the cows organize some sort of attack? I have extensive experience with cows. They almost never do that." "Forget

I turned my face to the east and the first star that shimmered on the horizon. He held my hand, and it was the hand of the man I had married, lost and found again in the Badiyat ash-Sham, the fabled land of camels and caravans that lies just beyond the walls of the city of jasmine. To live with him would be a very great adventure indeed.

Aquinas was a superior servant; he betrayed little reaction to the news that there was a corpse in the chapel. He merely blinked once, slowly, and then crossed himself.

Did you know that if you rub a cat's fur the wrong way with a piece of silk, you can make sparks? Little flickers of electricity conjured from your bare fingertips. it is the nearest thing to being a god. That is how I feel when I spar with you.

I abhorred weakness of any kind but most particularly in my tea.

To know how a character will behave in any given situation is a necessity and a gift.

He paused again, letting his words settle like stones falling to the bottom of a pond.

But this is a thing that I know
to live with fear is not to live at all. A man will die every moment he is afraid.

If you were a man, your ladyship, I would cordially horsewhip you for that remark.

As a scientist I rebelled against the disorder, and I had long since discovered that nothing thwarted the mental processes like clutter.

I have faith that men can be as reasonable and logical as women if they but try.

Are you going to say anything?"
Brisbane crossed one leg lazily over the other flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his trousers. "I think he is doing quite well without me."
"I did not mean for you to help him I meant for you to defend me," I said huffing slightly in my indignation.

Ordinary butterflies derive their color from scales, infinitesimally small and carrying all the colors of the rainbow within them, reflecting back the jewel tones associated with the most magnificent butterflies. Moths and more restrained specimens of butterfly have scales with softly powdered hues, but the most arresting sight is by far the butterfly without any scales at all. The wings of these butterflies are crystalline in their clearness, patterned only with narrow black veins like the leaded glass of a cathedral window, the thinnest of membranes stretching between them. It seems impossible that they can fly, but they do, like shards of glass borne upon the wind.

You men have been forcing us to change our names for the last four thousand years. Why don't we switch it up? You lot can take our names for the next few millennia and see how you like it.

It will be full dark soon, and I do not like the look of that sky. The temperature is falling as well," he added, rubbing his hands together briskly. "I think we shall be in for a bit of snow from the look of the cloud just over the Downs." Naturally the gentlemen had to spend another quarter of an hour debating the weather as the ladies stood shivering, Portia rolling her eyes at me behind Father's back. In the end they all agreed that, yes, it was indeed growing colder and darker and we ought to depart at once for the Abbey.

I broke in swiftly. "How kind of you to renew your offer, your Grace. But I am afraid I must decline. Brisbane is the man for me.

Eva Stachniak has given readers a thrilling glimpse into the scandals and secrets at the heart of the Russian Imperial court. With deft prose and exquisite detail, Stachniak has resurrected one of the most compelling ages in history. Turn off the phones and lock the doors - you will not put it down.

I would give up everything for you, Giulia"
I smiled at him gently. "But you must understand. I should never want a man to give up anything for me. I should want him to feel in winning me he has won the whole world ...

Ah, that touch of asperity! You are the only one of my acquaintance who is unafraid to spice your conversation with that particular pepper.

Mrs. de Morgan- How can you stand to be near him now that you know he has taken a life?
Veronica- Because, Mrs. de Morgan, I have taken two.

There were cycles in the life of a great house such as ours. When a lord is young, his family is boisterous and the house comes alive. But the wheel turns, as it must, and a quiet settles over the place as softly as a snowfall, muffling its gaiety as the lord ages and his family is flown. And then the wheel turns again and the house his handed over to the new lord and it stirs to life again, sheltering the family as it has so many before.

To walk away from something is only half the picture. What are you walking towards?

Brisbane and I passed a thoroughly satisfactory and entirely private evening in the solitude of our room. "Thank God for stout stone walls," he said at one point, and I heartily agreed.

The world would be a rather better place if we looked only for God in one another.
Harry Cavendish

Apparently, he uses disguises sometimes in the course of his investigations. In his liaison with Mariah, he used them for discretion. He came to her once dressed as a chimney sweep. Quite invigorating, don't you think?

He smiled again. "Your reputation undoubtedly precedes you."
I bristled. "I am not that curious!"
"You are curious as any cat, my love ...

I may not read tea leaves or palms, my lady, but it is easy enough to read faces. Yours is a questioning face, always looking for answers, always seeking the truth, for yourself and for others." I smiled at her. "I think that is a very polite way of saying I am curious as a cat. And we all know what happened to the cat - curiosity killed her." Rosalie took the last slice of cake onto her plate. "Yes, but you forget the most important thing about the little cat," she said, giving me a wise nod. "She had eight lives left to live.

He had strong, steady hands, and I could tell from looking at them there was little he couldn't do. Mossy always said you could tell everything you needed to know about a man from his hands. Some hands, she told me, were leaving hands. They were the wandering sort that slipped into places they shouldn't, and they would wander right off again because those hands just couldn't stay still. Some hands were worthless hands, fit only to hold a drink or flick ash from a cigar, and some were punishing hands that hit hard and didn't leave a mark and those were the ones you never stayed to see twice.
But the best hands were knowing hands, Mossy told me with a slow smile. Knowing hands were capable; they could soothe a horse or woman. They could take things apart
including your heart
and put them back together better than before. Knowing hands were rare, but if you found them, they were worth holding, at least for a little while.

She is wrong, you know. What you do is important. You save people," I told him, pressing my lips to the half-moon scar high upon his cheekbone. "You saved me." His arm tightened about my waist and we stood for a long moment, wrapped in each other.

Have you ever looked a starving beggar in the eye and thought that the privileges you enjoy are nothing more than a whim of the cosmos?

Why, that is most intriguing. A lady scientist," he said in a tone of wonderment. "What will they think of next?

Which is why I stayed long enough to buy every man a pint and winnow out at least a little kernel of wheaty truth from the chaff of gossip.

I'd had my heart broken, you see. Fell in love with the wrong chap and he crushed me right down to the bedrock. Nothing left but humiliation.

Is that right A cattle baron It sounds strange.

I stepped closer still. He closed his eyes again and covered my hand with his own. 'You smell of violets. You always smell of violets,' he said. 'You've no idea how many times I have walked these moors and smelled them and thought you were near. On and on I walked, following the scent of you, and you were never there. When I saw you in the hall tonight, I thought I had finally gone mad.

The truth is a hard mirror, and I am in no mood to look upon my reflection.

If one has a purpose, life is bearable enough, do you not think so?

Aunt Dove stepped behind her and looked at her reflection in the cheval glass. You haven't been to India, pet, but in the Nilgiri Hills, there's a flower called a kurinji flower. It doesn't bloom often. In fact, you can go a dozen years or more without seeing a single blossom. But then, just when you've given up hope of ever seeing one, they burst into flower, whole mountainsides at the same time, carpeted in the most astonishing shades of purple. It's as if God himself shook out a rug of petals and spread it at your feet. It's unexpected and magnificent, and very much worth the wait.

The other travellers do seem to have given us a wide berth," I admitted.
"Can you blame them?" He surveyed our possessions, and I found myself smiling as well.
"Not precisely a partridge in a pear tree..."
"But we have a raven in a cage, a lurcher on a lead, a Siamese in a basket, and a dormouse in your décolletage. We are a travelling circus.

And yours? What is your opinion? Truly?" She turned to face me, her green eyes brilliant in the lamplight. "Would it matter?"
"No. I love him and, damn the world, I will have him."
She grinned. "Good girl. And since my opinion doesn't matter, I give it freely: Brisbane is worth twenty Marches and dearer to me than most of my own brothers. If you do not marry him, I will do so myself, simply to keep him in the family."
I turned away quickly. "Are you weeping?" she asked.
"Don't be absurd." My voice was muffled and I swallowed, blinking furiously. "I have a cinder in my eye." Portia dropped a swift kiss to my cheek. "Happiness is within your grasp now, pet. Hang onto it, and do not let it go, whatever you do.

I had a vision of you, the first time I stepped into Grey House, the night Edward died. That was why I kept staring at you while he lay on the bed, convulsing between us. I had seen you standing before me, your hand in mine. I could not hear what was said between us, but there was a sense of belonging to you, as if I had always known you somehow, and you had been waiting for me. It came as rather a nasty shock to realise you were already married.

The men stood back, chanting a song of one who would not be forgotten, of loved ones lost and returned to the earth, and of the land itself which does not die but is always born anew with each fall of the long rains. They chanted of life, which is short as a spear of summer grass or long as the heart of the Rift itself, and of the silent land that waits beyond.

You must engage in horizontal refreshment. It isn't healthy to congest oneself like that.

I put my hands on my hips, not caring if I sounded like a Billingsgate fishwife. "Yes, it was a dangerous thing to do, but as it seems to have escaped your attention, I remind you I am above thirty years of age, of sound body and mind, and in control of my own fortune. That means," I said, moving closer still, poking his chest for emphasis, "I am mistress of myself and answer to no one.

The addition of romance in my books or mystery to a historical romance is the sauce, not the goose.

We are mere humans, Veronica. We are destined to prefer beauty to ugliness." His

Everyone knows the Devil takes care of his own.

A woman could love a jackass. She could not love a son of a bitch. Many have tried, Gideon. Many have tried.

You rise from your bed every day on two strong legs and can think only to complain that someone once spoke harshly to you.

Have you not yet learned that it is easier to pull a star down from the heavens than to bend a woman to your will?

I sat down and put my fingertips to my temples, rubbing hard. "We have one fallen tree, one destroyed Rookery, one delusional butler and no good brandy. Is that what you are telling me?"
"And the cook's down with piles and more than half the staff are suffering from catarrh," she added maliciously.
I looked to Brisbane, who was smiling broadly. "God bless us, everyone," he said, spreading his arms wide.

Except for my net, everything I have need of in the world is contained in that bag - including a second hat and a rather sizable jar of cold cream of roses. Do not tell me you couldn't travel with as little. I have faith that men can be as reasonable and logical as women if they but try." He shook his head. "I cannot seem to formulate a clear thought in the face of such original thinking, Miss Speedwell. You have a high opinion of your sex." I pursed my lips. "Not all of it. We are, as a gender, undereducated and infantilized to the point of idiocy. But those of us who have been given the benefit of learning and useful occupation, well, we are proof that the traditional notions of feminine delicacy and helplessness are the purest poppycock."

"You have large opinions for so small a person."

"I daresay they would be large opinions even for someone your size," I countered.

"And where did you form these opinions? Either your school was inordinately progressive or your governess was a Radical."

"I never went to school, nor did I have a governess. Books were my tutors, Mr. Stoker. Anything I wished to learn I taught myself."

"There are limits to an autodidactic education," he pointed out.

"Few that I have found. I was spared the prejudices of formal educators."

"And neither were you inspired by them. A good teacher can change the course of a life," he said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps. But I had

You have always been dazzling - the life of every party, the glamour girl who dances until dawn."
"Well, I am. But I'm dancing on broken glass. I'm Miss Havisham's wedding cake, Kit. A frothy, expensive, mice-eaten confection. I'm the Sphinx's nose, the fallen Colossus. I'm a beautiful ruin, and it's time that has done the deed.

Veronica to Stoker: "Does this mean you will stop torturing me by displaying yourself in various states of undress?

Be calm," she said soothingly, and I realized she was not talking to the bird.
"How am I supposed to be calm? I worry," I retorted.
She gave a snort. "Then you are more stupid than I supposed. Worry, what is that? A pointless thing is Mr. Worry-an intruder. He steals into your house and creeps into your bed and what do you do child? Do you push him away and tell him to be gone and bolt the door fast against him? No, you move over and let him have the good pillow and the best quilt to warm himself." She flapped a hand in disgust. "Worry never did a man a bit of good. All he does is robs one's peace and make lines on the face.

He poured out the wine and took a deep draught of it, then loosened his neckcloth, an act of dinner table impropriety that would have affronted most other wives, but which I strongly encouraged. Brisbane had a very handsome throat.

It all fell into place and I simply knew, as one knows that fire is hot and sleep is sweet. It was just that sudden, that elemental, and it occurred to me then that the truth is precisely that
elemental. It is the essence of itself; it cannot be argued or winnowed down to something less than what it is.

I went to the window, opening the pierced shutters to look out over the sleeping city. The moon was waxing and hung half-full like some exotic silver jewel just over the horizon. From the courtyard below rose the scent of jasmine on the cool night air. A slender vine had wound its way up to the balcony, and I reached out, pinching off a single creamy white blossom. I lifted it to my nose, drinking in the thick sweetness of it as it filled my head, sending my senses reeling. There was something narcotic about that jasmine, something carnal and ethereal at the same time. I crushed the petals between my fingers, taking the scent onto my skin. It was not a fragrance to wear alone. It was too rich, too heady, too full of sensuality and promise. It was a fragrance for silken cushions and damp naked flesh and moonlit beds. I rubbed at my fingers, but the scent clung tightly, keeping me company as I sat in the window, listening to a song I had almost forgot and thinking of Gabriel Starke and the five years that stretched barrenly between us.

One cannot innovate new improvements without understanding old failures.

I think people are much the same wherever you go. Some of them good, some of them clever, and some of them with the devil in them.

Those are facts. Are they the truth? No, for they do not tell you of the heart, and that is where truth lives.

From the first note I knew it was different from anything I had ever heard.... It began simply, but with an arresting phrase, so simple, but eloquent as a human voice. It spoke, beckoning gently as it unwound, rising and tensing. It spiraled upward, the tension growing with each repeat of the phrasing, and yet somehow it grew more abandoned, wilder with each note. His eyes remained closed as his fingers flew over the strings, spilling forth surely more notes than were possible from a single violin. For one mad moment I actually thought there were more of them, an entire orchestra of violins spilling out of this one instrument. I had never heard anything like it--it was poetry and seduction and light and shadow and every other contradiction I could think of. It seemed impossible to breathe while listening to that music, and yet all I was doing was breathing, quite heavily. The music itself had become as palpable a presence in that room as another person would have been--and its presence was something out of myth.

Fate is by far the greatest mystery of all.

What virtue is there in a man who demonstrates goodness because he has been bred to it? It is his habit from youth. But a man who has known unkindness and want, for him to be kind and charitable to those who have been the cause of his misfortunes, that is a virtuous man.

Do you know what sort of trouble you are courting?"
"Courting?" I gave him a scornful look. "I married it long ago. As our favorite detective, Arcadia Brown, would say to her faithful Garvin, 'Excelsior!

Because if we're on the road to hell, we're going to dance the whole damn way and give them something to talk about when we're gone.

But this month is all about CITY OF JASMINE which I hope you already have in your hot little hands. My favorite review snippet? KIRKUS REVIEWS said it's "part screwball comedy".
I can't tell you how much time I spent with Carole Lombard and William Powell and Irene Dunne when I was writing it. I adore the 30s comedies for their light-hearted take on relationships and adventure - and the glamorous settings and occasional dash of intrigue only heighten the magic. (Did you know that Nicholas Brisbane from my Lady Julia series was named for THE THIN MAN's Nick Charles? And apologies to Dashiell Hammett, but I fell in love with the film long before I read the book and appreciated how much it had been lightened in the adaptation!) So when you're reading CITY OF JASMINE, give some thought to who you'd like to see playing Evie and Gabriel - I'd love to hear who you'd cast in your own production.