Shieldmaiden Of Rohan Quotes

Wounds are said to emit light under certain conditions - touch them and the brightness will stay on the hands - and as candles burn Rohan thinks of each flame as an injury somewhere in his house. ~ Nadeem Aslam

As Rohan pulled the man upward, he glanced toward the threshold of a door that led into the club, where a club employee waited. "Dawson, escort Lord Latimer to his carriage out front. I'll take Lord Selway."
"No need," said the aristocrat who had just struggled to his feet, sounding winded. "I can walk to my own bloody carriage." Tugging his clothes back into place over his bulky form, he threw the dark-haired man an anxious glance. "Rohan, I will have your word on something."
"Yes, my lord?"
"If word of this gets out - if Lady Selway should discover that I was fighting over the favors of a fallen woman - my life won't be worth a farthing."
Rohan replied with reassuring calm. "She'll never know, my lord."
"She knows everything," Selway said. "She's in league with the devil. If you are ever questioned about this minor altercation…"
"It was caused by a particularly vicious game of whist," came the bland reply.
"Yes. Yes. Good man." Selway patted the younger man on the shoulder. "And to put a seal on your silence - " He reached a beefy hand inside his waistcoat and extracted a small bag.
"No, my lord." Rohan stepped back with a firm shake of his head, his shiny black hair flying with the movement and settling back into place. "There's no price for my silence."
"Take it," the aristocrat insisted.
"I can't, my lord."
"It's yours." The bag of coins was tossed to the ground, landing at Rohan's feet with a metallic thu ~ Lisa Kleypas

I don't want to relax. I don't want to … oh, dear Lord." He had bent his head to her throat, searching for the visible thrum of her pulse. A light, hot shock went through her. "Don't do that," she said weakly, but he was insistent, his mouth wickedly soft, and her breath hitched as she felt the brush of his tongue. Her hands shot to his muscle-banked shoulders. "Mr. Rohan, you mustn't - "
"This is how to kiss, Amelia." He cradled her head in his palms, deftly tilting it to the side. "Noses go here." Another disorienting brush of his mouth, a wash of sensual heat. "You taste like sugar and tea."
"I already know how to kiss!"
"Do you?" His thumb passed over her kiss-heated lips, urging them to part. "Then show me," he whispered. "Let me in, Amelia."
Never in her life had she thought a man would say something so outrageous to her. And if the words were improper, the gleam in his eyes was positively immolating.
"I … I'm a spinster." She offered the word as if it were a talisman. Everyone knew that rakish gentlemen were supposed to leave spinsters alone. But it appeared no one had told Cam Rohan.
A covert smile deepened the corners of his mouth. "That's not going to keep you safe from me." She tried to turn away from him, but his hands guided her face back to his. "I can't seem to leave you alone. In fact, I'm reconsidering my entire policy on spinsters. ~ Lisa Kleypas

It was the Gypsy, the boy with the eyes of a hungry panther. He had removed his coat and waistcoat... and his necktie as well... so that his upper half was covered only in a thin white shirt that had been tucked loosely into the waist of his close-fitting trousers. The sight of him elicited the same reaction Daisy had felt upstairs- a swift sting in her chest followed by the rapid pumping of her heart. Paralyzed by the realization that she was alone in the room with him, Daisy watched with unblinking eyes as he approached her slowly.
She had never seen any living being who had been fashioned with such dark exotic beauty... his skin the color of raw clover honey, the light hazel of his eyes framed with heavy black lashes, his thick obsidian hair tumbled over his forehead. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Separating from the group in the middle of the room, Win came to Christopher and gave him her hand. "Captain Phelan. How lucky we are to be gaining you as a brother. The men in the family have been quite outmatched--four to five. Now you'll make our total an even ten."
"I still feel outmatched," Leo said.
Merripen approached Christopher, shook his hand with a strong grip, and gave him an appraising glance. "Rohan says you're not bad, for a gadjo," he said. "And Beatrix says she loves you, which inclines me to let you marry her. But I'm still considering it."
"If it makes any difference," Christopher said, "I'm willing to take all of her animals."
Merripen considered that. "You can have her. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Before Rohan could reply, a new voice entered the conversation. "What's this?"
It was Leo, who had just arisen from bed and pulled on his clothes. He came barefoot from the direction of his bedroom. His bleary gaze moved over the pair of them.
"Why are you on the floor with your buttons undone?"
Amelia considered the question. "I decided to have a spontaneous tryst in the middle of the hallway with a man I hardly know."
"Well, try to be quiet about it next time. A fellow needs his sleep."
Amelia stared at him quizzically. "For heaven's sake, Leo, aren't you worried that I may have been compromised?"
"Were you?"
"I ... " Her face turned hot as she glanced into Rohan's vivid topaz eyes. "I don't think so."
"If you're not sure about it," Leo said, "you probably weren't. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Lifting a goblet of wine to her lips, Evie glanced at him over the rim as she drank. "What is in that ledger?"
"A lesson in creative record keeping. I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that Egan has been draining the club's accounts. He shaves away increments here and there, in small enough quantities that the thefts have gone unnoticed. But over time, it totals up to a considerable sum. God knows how many years he's been doing it. So far, every account book I've looked at contains deliberate inaccuracies."
"How can you be certain that they're deliberate?"
"There is a clear pattern." He flipped open a ledger and nudged it over to her. "The club made a profit of approximately twenty thousand pounds last Tuesday. If you cross-check the numbers with the record of loans, bank deposits, and cash outlays, you'll see the discrepancies."
Evie followed the trail of his finger as he ran it along the notes he had made in the margin. "You see?" he murmured. "These are what the proper amounts should be. He's padded the expenses liberally. The cost of ivory dice, for example. Even allowing for the fact that the dice are only used for one night and then never again, the annual charge should be no more than two thousand pounds, according to Rohan." The practice of using fresh dice every night was standard for any gaming club, to ward off any question that they might be loaded.
"But here it says that almost three thousand pounds was spent on dice," Evie murm ~ Lisa Kleypas

Through the buzzing in her ears, she heard new sounds from outside, shouting and cursing. All of a sudden the carriage door was wrenched open and someone vaulted inside. Evie squirmed to see who it was. Her remaining breath was expelled in a faint sob as she saw a familiar glitter of dark golden hair.
It was Sebastian as she had never seen him before, no longer detached and self-possessed, but in the grip of bone-shaking rage. His eyes were pale and reptilian as his murderous gaze fastened on Eustace, whose breath began to rattle nervously behind the pudgy ladder of his chin.
"Give her to me," Sebastian said, his voice hoarse with fury. "Now, you pile of gutter sludge, or I'll rip your throat out."
Seeming to realize that Sebastian was eager to carry out the threat, Eustace released his chokehold on Evie. She scrambled toward Sebastian and took in desperate pulls of air. He caught her with a low murmur, his hold gentle but secure. "Easy, love. You're safe now." She felt the tremors of rage that ran in continuous thrills through his body.
Sebastian sent a lethal glance to Eustace, who was trying to gather his jellylike mass into the far end of the seat. "The next time I see you," Sebastian said viciously, "no matter what the circumstances, I'm going to kill you. No law, nor weapon, nor God Himself will be able to stop it from happening. So if you value your life, don't let your path cross mine again."
Leaving Eustace in a quivering heap of speechl ~ Lisa Kleypas

Why did it take tragedy to bring out the best in us? And why was that state of grace so fleeting? ~ Ethel Rohan

Glaring at the doctor, Kev spoke in Romany. "Ka xlia ma pe tute" (I'm going to shit on you.)

"Which means," Rohan said hastily, "'Please forgive the misunderstanding; let's part as friends.'"

"Te malavel les i menkiva," Kev added for good measure. (May you die of a malignant wasting disease.)

"Roughly translated," Rohan said, "that means, 'May your garden be filled with fine, fat hedgehogs.' Which, I may add, is considered quite a blessing among the Rom. ~ Lisa Kleypas

In a growing economy where our attention is being farmed for commercial gain, mindfulness is one of the few tools available for returning our sense of agency and control. ~ Rohan Gunatillake

He couldn't change the fact of what he was, nor would he be able to shield Amelia from all the arrows that would be aimed at the wife of a gypsy. But he would be damned if he would let her make her way through a merciless world without him. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Entering the office, Evie found Sebastian and Cam on opposite sides of the desk. They both mulled over account ledgers, scratching out some entries with freshly inked pens, and making notations beside the long columns. Both men looked up as she crossed the threshold. Evie met Sebastian's gaze only briefly; she found it hard to maintain her composure around him after the intimacy of the previous night. He paused in mid-sentence as he stared at her, seeming to forget what he had been saying to Cam. It seemed that neither of them was yet comfortable with feelings that were still too new and powerful. Murmuring good morning to them both, she bid them to remain seated, and she went to stand beside Sebastian's chair.
"Have you breakfasted yet, my lord?" she asked.
Sebastian shook his head, a smile glinting in his eyes. "Not yet."
"I'll go to the kitchen and see what is to be had."
"Stay a moment," he urged. "We're almost finished."
As the two men discussed a few last points of business, which pertained to a potential investment in a proposed shopping bazaar to be constructed on St. James Street, Sebastian picked up Evie's hand, which was resting on the desk. Absently he drew the backs of her fingers against the edge of his jaw and his ear while contemplating the written proposal on the desk before him. Although Sebastian was not aware of what the casual familiarity of the gesture revealed, Evie felt her color rise as she met Cam's gaze over her husband ~ Lisa Kleypas

I've spent so much of my life travelling alone, so I keep things to myself. ~ Rohan Bopanna

Sebastian encountered Cam in the hallway outside the reading room. "Where is he?" he demanded without preamble.
Stopping before him with an expressionless face, Cam said shortly, "He's gone."
"Why didn't you follow him?" White-hot fury blazed in Sebastian's eyes. This news, added to the frustration of his vow of celibacy, was the last straw.
Cam, who had been exposed to years of Ivo Jenner's volcanic temper, remained unruffled. "It was unnecessary in my judgment," he said. "He won't return."
"I don't pay you to act on your own damned judgment. I pay you to act on mine! You should have dragged him here by the throat and then let me decide what was to be done with the bastard."
Cam remained silent, sliding a quick, subtle glance at Evie, who was inwardly relieved by the turn of events. They were both aware that had Cam brought Bullard back to the club, there was a distinct possibility that Sebastian might actually have killed him - and the last thing Evie wanted was a murder charge on her husband's head.
"I want him found," Sebastian said vehemently, pacing back and forth across the reading room. "I want at least two men hired to look for him day and night until he is brought to me. I swear he'll serve as an example to anyone who even thinks of lifting a finger against my wife." He raised his arm and pointed to the doorway. "Bring me a list of names within the hour. The best detectives available - private ones. I don't want some idiot from ~ Lisa Kleypas

He reached up for his elegant neck cloth and began to unfasten it, and she watched his long, pale, bejeweled fingers in something of a daze.
He pulled the cloth free, his shirt coming open, and she averted her gaze from the disturbing sight of his bare chest. She heard his laugh, and then his hands were on her once more, catching her shoulders and turning her around. "Don't worry, my pet. You won't be seeing anything that might shock you." And he pulled the neck cloth over her eyes, effectively blinding her.
She wanted to fight back, to struggle, but that would give him an excuse to touch her further, and the less she felt the brush of his cool fingers the better. "That's right," he said, his voice soft and approving. "Now give me your arm and we'll give you a taste of damnation."
"Do you really find blasphemy that entertaining?" she said, trying not to start when he took her hand and placed it on his arm.
"Always."
She'd never put her hand on any arm that wasn't covered by layers of clothing, including a coat. The devil who oversaw these revels, be he Monsieur le Comte or something else, wore only a thin shirt made of the finest lawn. In her sudden world of darkness she was acutely aware of the feel of his arm beneath her fingers. The sinew and bone. The unexpected warmth of his skin, when his hands and his heart were so cold. ~ Anne Stuart

I'll get 'er, I will."
"You'll never touch her," Cam retorted, filled with a flare of impotent anger as he cast a last glance into Hangman's Court. "I'll send you to hell before you ever lay a finger on her!"
"I'll bring you with me, then," came Bullard's gloating reply, and he laughed again as Cam strode away from the court. ~ Lisa Kleypas

There is no other experience more empowering and undying than the experience of uniting unconditionally with the Conscience of God. From the forthcoming book: What is Man. ~ Rohan Perera

How far back his treachery goes, who can guess?' said Gandalf. 'He was not always evil. Once I do not doubt that he was the friend of Rohan; and even when his heart grew colder, he found you useful still. But for long now he has plotted your ruin, wearing the mask of friendship, until he was ready. In those years Wormtongue's task was easy, and all that you did was swiftly known in Isengard; for your land was open, and strangers came and went. And ever Wormtongue's whispering was in your ears, poisoning your thought, chilling your heart, weakening your limbs, while others watched and could do nothing, for your will was in his keeping. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

The worst part about loving someone, Merripen, is that there will al­ways be things you can't protect her from. Things be­yond your control. You finally realize there is something worse than dying... and that is having something hap­pen to her. You have to live with that fear always. But you have to take the bad part, if you want the good part."
Kev looked at him bleakly. "What's the good part?"
A smile touched Cam's lips. "All the rest of it is the good part," he said, and went. ~ Lisa Kleypas

His expression was perturbed, as if he'd been reminded of something he had wanted to forget. But as his gaze slid over her bewildered face, his mouth curved a little, and he settled into the cradle of her body with an insolent familiarity that temporarily robbed her of breath.
"Mr. Rohan … how … why … what are you doing here?"
He replied without moving, as if he were planning to lie there and converse all day. His infinitely polite tone was an unsettling contrast to the intimacy of their position. "Miss Hathaway. What a pleasant surprise. As it happens, I'm visiting friends. And you?"
"I live here."
"I don't think so. This is Lord Westcliff's estate."
Her heart thundered in her breast as her body absorbed the details of him. "I didn't mean precisely here, I meant over there, on the other side of the woods. The Ramsay estate. We've just taken up residence." She couldn't seem to stop herself from chattering in the aftermath of nerves and fright. "What was that noise? What were you doing? Why do you have that tattoo on your arm? It's a pooka - an Irish creature - isn't it?"
That last question earned her an arrested stare. Before Rohan could reply, the other two men approached. From her prone position, Amelia had an upside-down view of them. Like Rohan, they were in their shirtsleeves, with waistcoats left unbuttoned.
One of them was a portly old gentleman with a shock of silver hair. He held a small wood-and-metal sextant, which had been ~ Lisa Kleypas

Alas, not me, lord!" she said. "Shadow lies on me still. Look not to me for healing! I am a shieldmaiden and my hand is ungentle. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

The King of Hell was everything they said he was, both less and more. He was reputed to have the ability to seduce an abbess or the pope himself, and she could see why. It wasn't his physical beauty, which was considerable. He had dark blue eyes behind a fringe of ridiculously long lashes, pale, beautiful skin, the kind of mouth that could bring despair and delight- and what the hell was she doing, thinking about such things?
He looked younger than his reputed age, around forty, and while his long dark hair was streaked with silver it only made him seem more leonine, more dangerous. He was tall, and he moved with an elegant grace that put dancers to shame. He was standing far too close to her, to the gun she'd stolen from Jacobs while he was busy with the carriage, and he was looking at her with far too much interest and absolutely no fear. ~ Anne Stuart

Yes.' Cam paused. 'The Rom would say you were a man who grieved too much. You trapped your
beloved's soul in the in-between.'
'Either that, or I went mad.'
'Love is a form of madness, isn't it?' Cam asked prosaically. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Am I dealing with stubbornness, idiocy, or some combination of the two?"
"-Cam Rohan ~ Lisa Kleypas

You fault me for having standards?' Sebastian countered icily.
'Not at all. I fault you for having two sets of them.'
~ Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent & Cam Rohan. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I had hit on the most positive solution to the world's most negative problems. What we needed were a bunch of little, hairy Hobbits! Not large armies of Gondoreans and Rohirrim, just beer drinking, song-singing, riddle-solving, barrel-riding, pipe-weed-smokin', second-breakfast-eatin', long-walkin' Hobbits! ~ Steve Bivans

He glanced down at her, keeping his expression carefully impassive. "I hate to leave you." There was a gently mocking edge to his tone. "You need someone to follow you around and keep you safe from mishaps. On the other hand, you also need someone to find a beekeeper."
Realizing he was not going to talk about Leo, Amelia followed his lead. "Will you do that for us? I would consider it a great favor."
"Of course. Although…" His eyes held a wicked glitter. "As I mentioned before, I can't keep doing favors for you with no reward. A man needs incentive."
"If … if you want money, I'll be glad to - "
"God, no." Rohan was laughing now. "I don't want money." Reaching out, he smoothed back her hair, letting the heel of his hand graze the edge of her cheekbone. The brush of his skin was light and erotic, causing her to swallow hard. "Goodbye, Miss Hathaway. I'll see myself out." He flashed a smile at her and advised, "Stay away from the windows."
On the way down the stairs, Rohan passed Merripen, who was ascending at a measured pace.
Merripen's face darkened at the sight of the visitor. "What are you doing here?"
"It seems I'm helping with pest eradication."
"Then you can begin by leaving," Merripen growled.
Rohan only grinned nonchalantly, and continued on his way. ~ Lisa Kleypas

They paused at a table bearing a collection of magic lanterns, small embossed tin lamps with condensing lenses at the front. There was a slot for a hand-painted glass slide just behind the lens. When the lamp was lit, an image would be projected on a wall. Rohan insisted on buying one for Amelia, along with a packet of slides.
"But it's a child's toy," she protested, holding the lantern by its wire handle. "What am I to do with it?"
"Indulge in pointless entertainment. Play. You should try it sometime."
"Playing is for children, not adults."
"Oh, Miss Hathaway," he murmured, leading her away from the table. "The best kind of playing is for adults. ~ Lisa Kleypas

After ripping through The Hobbit, I read The Lord of the Rings, and the darkness of that story enveloped me in a way that is impossible to explain. I was THERE, in a very real sense. The fear was palpable in the presence of the black-cloaked Ringwraiths, and I could taste the sulfurous fumes of Mt. Doom. I could smell the sweat of horses and hot leather and hear the clash of battle as I rode with the Rohan on the fields of the Pelennor. I bled and died with the sun-king, Theoden. I rose again with Eowyn's defiance of the Witch King. I soared with the Eagles as they swept the broken and bloody body of Frodo and his companion Samwise the Brave from the smoking crags of the fiery mountain. There has never been such a story, and I don't think there ever shall be again. ~ Steve Bivans

Mr. Rohan," she heard Beatrix ask, "are you going to marry my sister?"
Amelia choked on her tea and set the cup down. She sputtered and coughed into her napkin.
"Hush, Beatrix," Win murmured.
"But she's wearing his ring - "
Poppy clamped her hand over Beatrix's mouth. "Hush!"
"I might," Cam replied. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued. "I find your sister a bit lacking in humor. And she doesn't seem particularly obedient. On the other hand - "
One set of French doors flew open, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. Everyone on the back terrace looked up in startlement, the men rising from their chairs.
"No," came Win's soft cry.
Merripen stood there, having dragged himself from his sickbed. He was bandaged and disheveled, but he looked far from helpless. He looked like a maddened bull, his dark head lowered, his hands clenched into massive fists. And his stare, promising death, was firmly fixed on Cam.
There was no mistaking the bloodlust of a Roma whose kinswoman had been dishonored.
"Oh, God," Amelia muttered.
Cam, who stood beside her chair, glanced down at her questioningly. "Did you say something to him?"
Amelia turned red as she recalled her blood-spotted nightgown and the maid's expression. "It must have been servants' talk."
Cam stared at the enraged giant with resignation. "You may be in luck," he said to Amelia. "It looks as if our betrothal is going to end prematurely." ~ Lisa Kleypas

Feeling hurt and not being able to recover is a consequence of 'Love until it hurts'. ~ Rohan B Rebello

I'm going with you," he said.
She frowned. "No, thank you."
"I insist."
"I don't need your services, Mr. Rohan."
Cam could think of a number of services she was clearly in need of, most of which would be a pleasure for him to provide. "Obviously it will be to everyone's benefit for you to retrieve Ramsay and leave London as quickly as possible. I consider it my civic duty to hasten your departure. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Nothing is worse than breaking the trust of someone who depends on your protection. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I have always made sure that I put my game ahead of anything else, sometimes even before friends and family. ~ Rohan Bopanna

And yet, Eomer, I say to you that she loves you more truly than me, for you she loves and knows; but in me she loves only a shadow and a thought: a hope of glory and great deeds, and lands far from the fields of Rohan.
- Aragorn to Eomer, of Eowyn ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Leo, do take Win to her room. You're both exhausted. We'll have time for talking tomorrow."(Amelia)

"Ah, that lovely tone of command," Leo reminisced. "I'd hoped that by now you would have rid her of the habit of barking out orders like a drill sergeant, Rohan."

"I enjoy all her habits," Rohan replied, smiling at his wife. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I know. i don't understand it," Max shook his head, bewildered. "Am I seeing things?"
"Couldn't have been a trick of the mind, could it? Nostalgia, a remembrance of old friends?" Jordan suggested.
"Or his ghost?" Rohan added.
They just looked at him.
"I grew up in a haunted castle, boys. If you've never had a ghost try to push you down the stairs, you've never lived. ~ Gaelen Foley

One of the footmen appeared, with Willis, his servant from a lifetime ago, on the other side of what was undoubtedly female and undoubtedly not one of the prostitutes imported from the city. This was going to be entertaining. He leaned back in his chair and gestured them closer, waiting as they approached, waiting as Reading stood in the background watching him.
"What have we got here, Willis?" he asked in his mildest voice. It was too much to hope for anything truly entertaining, but it might provide a few moments distraction.
She lifted her head, the dowdy creature, and he found himself looking into warm brown eyes filled with such loathing that for a moment he was charmed. Few people ever showed their dislike of him. ~ Anne Stuart