Erica Ridley Quotes

Everybody carried their unique hopes, dreams, and passions in their hearts. The trick was finding someone who shared them. Or would at least listen.

Who we are at any given moment is a combination of our past experiences, present situation, and potential future.

The point is, people have been having babies for thousands of years. There will be frightening moments and exhausting moments, but more than anything---"
"--- there will just be love.

Enough about me. Tell me about Princess Marigold. Ever been on a pirate ship?

At this, the duke stopped mid-step and nearly choked with laughter. "Beg your pardon, Sheffield." He cast a speaking glance at his sister then turned his merry gaze back to Benedict. "Did you try to get your way?"
Benedict lifted a shoulder with a self-deprecating smile.
The duke clapped him on the shoulder, unabashed. "You'll learn soon enough."
Benedict gazed down at Lady Amelia. "I believe I already have.

As a lady of clocklike precision yourself, you may appreciate my schedule. I have kept strictly to it every day for the past decade. From eight in the morning to eight in the evening, I devote myself to my duties. Then from eight in the evening to eight in the morning, I . . . do . . . not.

I may be dead inside, but I'm more than alive enough for you." He gripped her chin and covered her mouth with his.

You say war changes a man. I believe you. But it's not the only thing that changes a person. Who we are at any given moment is a combination of our past experiences, present situation, and potential future. It's not stagnant. The person you no longer liked wasn't the same bright-eyed recruit who joined, or the man you became when you came home.

I do consider it my responsibility to know everything there is to know about anything that could be considered my domain. I believe I am quite adept at the management of people and events." His green eyes twinkled. "You've certainly managed me since the day I was born." "I was but three years old when you were born," she protested. "I didn't start managing you for at least another year.

Have you considered - between now and any future leg-shackling, that is - the possibility of spending some time not running things?" "Oh, I do," she said earnestly. "Twice daily! I try very hard not to run things in my sleep, nor whilst cleaning my teeth. Far too difficult to bark orders with tooth powder in one's mouth.

That's not a catalog!" Amelia's brother set aside his empty glass and plate to peer across the maplewood table. "Why the devil are you reading Debrett's Peerage?"

"It most certainly is a catalog," she replied, "and the most expedient one at my disposal. I've decided to take a husband. His name must be within these pages.

Masquerades are frivolous, scandalous - " "Scandalous?" "People in costume lose their minds completely. The 'ladies,' if there are any, have been known to be free with their favors and dampen their gowns to make them more transparent - " "I did bring a bowl of water, in case you wished to blend with the masses.

From the second Edmund burst into the ceremony, she'd no longer wanted to be a duchess.
She just wanted Edmund.
Seeing his face had been like being flooded with magic. He was sunshine and sultry nights.
Laughter and sensuous kisses. The other half of her heart.

The ladies, I daresay, will have already selected silk gowns and appropriate jewels," the countess droned on, "and are quite capable of comporting themselves in line with both propriety and fashion."

"I don't care about fashion," Lord Sheffield murmured into Amelia's ear, "but I'm sorely disappointed whenever a lady I escort decides to comport herself with propriety.

Be thankful all she did was raise her voice," Mr. Blackpool told Sarah conspiratorially. "During the ride to London, I had to talk her out of scaling up the townhouse walls, should the door go unanswered."
She had to hide her smile at the image of flamboyant Mrs. Blackpool climbing row houses like a circus monkey. "We are fortunate indeed that such measures did not prove necessary.

Every morning," he said softly, his breath caressing her cheek. "You were my only thought." He tilted closer. "Every night, you were my only thought." His lips brushed her cheekbone. "Every moment of every day, you were my only thought.

He leaned back. "What, may I ask, is the nature of our business?" She inclined her head. "Just so. It came to my attention earlier today that you had canceled the seventy-fifth annual Christmas Eve ball. I would have called upon you immediately, but I'm afraid a prior engagement tied my hands until this very moment." He tried to make sense of her words. She was apologizing for not descending upon him more promptly for a meeting he'd never in his wildest dreams anticipated?

The power of unconditional love came from the knowledge that one possessed it.

We should go," he said gruffly, his face inscrutable.

"Why?" Her heartbeat thundered. She gripped his arms tight to keep herself from twining her own about his neck.

He lowered his mouth to her ear, brushing it with a feather-soft kiss. "It isn't safe."

Her answering shiver had nothing to do with the cold. She had never stood so close to any man, had never fought the urge to press herself even closer.

"What could happen?" she whispered.

He cupped her face in his hands. "Anything.

Oliver couldn't walk away. Not when the wallflower needed rescuing. His goddamn Achilles heel, no matter how disastrous the outcome tended to be. He just wished his heroics would work out for once.
He kept his eyes trained on the pretty black-haired American, every muscle tensed for action. An eternity ticked by. No one approached her. She had no one to dance with, to talk to. She looked... lost. Hauntingly lonely. Frightened and defiant all at the same time.
'Twould be better for them both if he turned around right now. Never met her eye. Never exchanged a single word. Left her to her fate and him to his.
It was already too late.

I dislike this waistcoat."
He raised his brows. "What's wrong with it?"
"You're still wearing it.

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I've come to seduce you."
His pupils dilated as his gaze heated.
She smiled. He hadn't been surprised at her presence, but he'd been very surprised at the reason.
He held up a palm. "By all means.

Lord Sheffield tucked a stray tendril behind her ear and cupped her cheek in one hand. "Do you see a kissing ball anywhere?" "N-no." She darted a quick glance about the room. It was decorated as a Venetian masquerade, not as a Christmastide celebration. There was no holly to be found. "Why do you ask?" "Because I don't want you to think I have any reason for doing this other than because I wish to.

She turned to him with wide, shocked eyes. "Why did he..."
His lips twitched. No coarse language in front of the infants limited the ability to discuss the fountain of baby piss that had just arced halfway across the room.
"Twasn't you, darling. It's one of their favorite bath-time games.
"Something about the cool air on their naked...berries," he substituted at the last second....
"Do I have piddle in my hair?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling with laughter above her flushed cheeks.
"Not much," he assured her with a straight face. "You look almost becoming."...
"Decades from now, when our children ask how I fell in love with their mother, I'll say 'twas her sweet, gentle compliments during bath-time, and her fleetness of foot whilst dodging a flow of ---

Men of his class didn't marry for love. Men with his past shouldn't marry at all...

Ravenwood ran a hand through his wavy chestnut hair, upsetting the careful work of his valet.

Or not. Given the popularity of the "frightened owl" hairstyle today, Amelia couldn't fathom much effort being involved at all.

What shall we say when people ask us how we met?"

The corners of her mouth twitched. "We'll say I was in my nightrail, brushing my hair in peaceful solitude, when you climbed up to my balcony and - "

"Do you even have a balcony?"

She pursed her lips. "You're not invited upon it, regardless."

He gave her a slow, naughty smile. "No one's ever *invited* to scale a balcony.

My butler informs me you had a book on your person when you came to call." She did not look up. "His vision is excellent, my lord." "Was it your journal?" he pressed. He wondered if she kept a diary as well . . . and what she might write about him. He hoped something scandalous. He'd love to make it come true.