Sybilla Bridgerton Quotes

George" she practically squealed, and once again he shushed her.
"You never learn, do you?" he murmured against her skin.
"You're the one who's making me scream."
"That wasn't a scream," he said with a cocktail smile.
she eyed him with alarm. "I didn't mean it as a dare."
He laughed aloud - although more quietly than she'd done - at that. "Merely planning for the future, when volume is not an issue."
"George, there are servants!"
"Who work for me."
"George!"
"When we are married," he said, lacing his fingers through hers, "we shall make as much or as little noise as we wish."
Billie felt her face go crimson.
he dropped a teasing kiss on her cheek. "Did I make you blush?"
"You know you did," she grumbled.
He looked down at her with a cocky smile. "I probably shouldn't take quite so much pride in that."
"But you do."
He brought her hand to his lips. "I do. ~ Julia Quinn

Billie turned back to Geroge. "He's an idiot."
He held up his hands. "You will find no argument here."
"The plight of the younger son," Andrew said with a sigh.
Billie rolled her eyes, tipping he read toward Andrew as she said to George, "Don't encourage him."
"To be ganged up upon," Andrew went on, "never respected..."
George crane his neck, trying to read the title of Billie's book. "What are you reading?"
"And," Andrew continued, "apparently ignored as well. ~ Julia Quinn

She felt his hands move to the fastening of his breeches, and then he swore under his breath as he was forced to roll off her in order to (in his words), "get the bloody things off." She couldn't help but chuckle at his profanity; he seemed to be having a much rougher time of it than she imagined was usual.
"You're laughing?" he asked, his brows rising into a daring arch.
"You should be glad I was already out of my gown," she told him. "Thirty-six cloth-covered buttons down the back."
He gave her a fearsome look. "It would not have survived. ~ Julia Quinn

Charlotte Stokehurst," Violet Bridgerton announced, "is getting married."
"Today?" Hyacinth queried, taking off her gloves.
Her mother gave her a look. "She has become engaged. Her mother told me this morning."
Hyacinth looked around. "Were you waiting for me in the hall?"
"To the Earl of Renton," Violet added. "Renton."
"Have we any tea?" Hyacinth asked. "I walked all the way home, and I'm thirsty."
"Renton!" Violet exclaimed, looking about ready to throw up her hands in despair. "Did you hear me?"
"Renton," Hyacinth said obligingly. "He has fat ankles."
"He's - " Violet stopped short. "Why were you looking at his ankles? ~ Julia Quinn

She looked so unbearably sad, and it wrecked him.

"You love someone else," she whispered.
Wait.... what?

It took him a moment to realize he hasn't said it aloud. Has she gone mad? "What are you talking about?"

"Billie Bridgerton. You're supposed to marry her. I don't think you remember, bu--"

"I'm not in love with Billie," he interrupted ~ Julia Quinn

Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis."
"He's your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief.
"Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll."
"Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.
Colin shrugged. "Not really."
"Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?"
"Gads, no. You must have misheard."
"Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."
Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."
Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth.
"It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."
Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me."
"You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage."
"An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now ~ Julia Quinn

Was it possible to fall in love with the same man over and over again, every single day? ~ Julia Quinn

It was your brother. He must be insane."

"Not insane, dear." Sybilla, speaking gently, contradicted. "Not insane. But magnificently drunk, I fear. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

The youngest one," she interrupted. "The youngest son, I mean. The one who is unmarried."
"I know who he is."
"Very well, then. What is wrong with him?" At that she cocked her head to the side and waited expectantly.
He thought for a moment. "Nothing."
"You - wait." She blinked. "Nothing?"
He shook his head, then shifted his weight a little; his good foot was beginning to fall asleep. "Nothing comes immediately to mind." It was true. She could do a good deal worse than Gregory Bridgerton.
"Really?" she asked suspiciously. "You find nothing at all objectionable about him."
Marcus pretended to think about this a bit longer. Clearly he was supposed to be playing a role here, probably that of the villain. Or if not that, then the grumpy old man. "I suppose he's a bit young," he said. ~ Julia Quinn

Hyacinth," Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, "do try to speak in complete sentences."
Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression. "Biscuits. Are. Good." She cocked her head to the side. "Noun. Verb. Adjective."
"Hyacinth."
"Noun. Verb. Adjective." Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face. "Sentence. Is. Correct. ~ Julia Quinn

I can live with you hating me," he said to the closed door. "I just can't live without you. ~ Julia Quinn

The two of you together are a menace," Penelope remarked.
"My aim in life," Lady Danbury announced, "is to be a
menace to as great a number of people as possible, so I
shall take that as the highest of compliments, Mrs.
Bridgerton."
"Why is it," Penelope wondered, "that you only call me
Mrs. Bridgerton when you are opining in a grand fashion?"
"Sounds better that way," Lady D said, punctuating her
remark with a loud thump of her cane. ~ Julia Quinn

The dark-haired stranger's head snapped around. "Daphne? Did he say Daphne?"
She drew back, unnerved by his direct question and the rather intense look in his eyes. "Yes."
"Your name is Daphne?"
Now she was beginning to wonder if he was an idiot. "Yes."
He groaned. "Not Daphne Bridgerton."
Her face slid into a puzzled frown. "The very one."
Simon staggered back a step. He suddenly felt physically ill, as his brain finally processed the fact that she had thick, chestnut hair.
The famous Bridgerton hair. Not to mention the Bridgerton nose, and cheekbones, and - Bugger it all, this was Anthony's sister!
Bloody hell.
There were rules among friends, commandments, really, and the most important one was Thou Shalt Not Lust After Thy Friend's Sister.
While he stood there, probably staring at her like a complete idiot, she planted her hands on her hips, and demanded, "And who are you?"
"Simon Basset," he muttered.
"The duke?" she squeaked.
He nodded grimly.
"Oh, dear. ~ Julia Quinn

You have to live each hour as if it's your last and each day as if you were immortal. - Kate Sheffield ~ Julia Quinn

It was cold. Really cold. And there was an awful scurrying noise that definitely belong to a small, four-legged creature.Or even worse, a large, four-legged creature. Or to be more precise, a large version of a small, four-legged creature.
Rats.
"Oh,God," Sophie moaned. She didn't often take the Lord's name in vain, but now seemed as good a time as any to start. Maybe He would hear, and maybe He would smite the rats. Yes, that would do very nicely.A big jolt of lightning. Huge. Of biblical proportions. It could hit the earth, spread little electrical tentacles around the globe, and sizzle all the rats dead.
It was a lovely dream. Right up there with the ones in which she found herself living happily ever after as Mrs. Benedict Bridgerton.
Sophie took a quick gasp as a sudden stab of pain pierced her heart. Of the two dreams, she feared that the genocide of the rats might be the more likely to come true. ~ Julia Quinn

You can't marry her," Araminta insisted.
Benedict turned to his mother. "Is there any reason I need to consult Lady Penwood about this?"
"None that I can think of," Lady Bridgerton replied.
"She is nothing but a whore," Araminta hissed. "Her mother was a whore, and blood runs - urp!"
Benedict had her by the throat before anyone was even aware that he had moved. "Don't," he warned, "make me hit you."
The magistrate tapped Benedict on the shoulder. "You really ought to let her go."
"Might I muzzle her?"
The magistrate looked torn, but eventually he shook his head. ~ Julia Quinn

You are a terrible liar, did you know that?" He straightened, tugging slightly at his waistcoat as he lifted his chin. "Actually, I'm an excellent liar. But what I'm really good at is appearing appropriately sheepish and adorable after I'm caught." What, Penelope wondered, was she meant to say to that? Because surely there was no one more adorably sheepish (sheepishly adorable?) than Colin Bridgerton with his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes flitting along the ceiling, and his lips puckered into an innocent whistle. ~ Julia Quinn

Darting a glance to either side, Danny Hislop had a sudden feeling that the whites of his eyes were beginning to show.

'Suppose we go upstairs?' said Sybilla comfortably. 'I think the steward is waiting to take us. That is, if you really want to hear us talk about our intimate family affairs in your presence. Otherwise I am sure they will make you very welcome elsewhere.'

She was like her bloody son. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

He ought to buy her a new dress. She would never accept it, of course, but maybe if her current garments were accidentally burned ...
... But how could he manage to burn her dress? She'd have to not be wearing it, and that posed a certain challenge in and of itself ... ~ Julia Quinn

If you want to know if a gentleman loves you," her mother said, "there is only one true way to be sure."
"It's in his kiss," her mother whispered. "It's all there, in his kiss. ~ Julia Quinn

It was something in the way she moved.
Something in the way she breathed.
Something in the way she merely 'was' .
And he didn't think he was ever going to get over it. ~ Julia Quinn

You're a bundle of questions
this afternoon, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't have to be," she retorted, clearly regaining
her wits, "if you'd actually say something of substance."
"Until next time, Miss Bridgerton," he murmured, slipping
out into the hall.
"But when?" came her exasperated voice.
He laughed all the way out. ~ Julia Quinn

Eloise, whose mouth was as sharp as Hyacinth's (though thankfully tempered by some discretion), had
remarked that they had best get Hyacinth married off quickly or their mother was going to become an
alcoholic. Lady Bridgerton had not appreciated the comment, although she privately thought it might be
true. ~ Julia Quinn

Swirling furiously among the stairs and corridors of her exquisite home like a small and angry white bat Sybilla, Dowager Lady Culter, was not above spitting at her unfortunate son when he chose to sit down in his own great hall to take his boots off. 'If Madge Mumblecrust comes down those stairs once again for a morsel of fowl's liver with ginger, or pressed meats with almond-milk, I shall retire to a little wicker house in the forest and cast spells which will sink Venice into the sea for ever, and Madame Donati with it. The Church,' said Sybilla definitely, 'should excommunicate girls who do not replace lids on sticky jars and wash their hair every day with the best towels. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Stop! Stop!"
Sophie shrieked with laughter as she ran down the stone steps that led to the garden behind Bridgerton House. After three children and seven years of marriage, Benedict could still make her smile, still make her laugh . . . and he still chased her around the house any chance he could get.
"Where are the children?" she gasped, once he'd caught her at the base of the steps.
"Francesca is watching them."
"And your mother?"
He grinned. "I daresay Francesca is watching her, too."
"Anyone could stumble upon us out here," she said, looking this way and that.
His smile turned wicked. "Maybe," he said, catching hold of her green-velvet skirt and reeling her in, "we should adjourn to the private terrace."
The words were oh-so-familiar, and it was only a second before she was transported back nine years to the masquerade ball.
"The private terrace, you say?" she asked, amusement dancing in her eyes. "And how, pray tell, would you know of a private terrace?"
His lips brushed against hers. "I have my ways," he murmured.
"And I," she returned, smiling slyly, "have my secrets."
He drew back. "Oh? And will you share?"
"We five," she said with a nod, "are about to be six."
He looked at her face, then looked at her belly. "Are you sure?"
"As sure as I was last time."
He took her hand and raised it to lips. "This one will be a girl."
"That's what you said last time."
"I know, ~ Julia Quinn

Bridgerton, he grunted. Damn damn damn. Colin Bridgerton was the last person he wanted to see right now. Even the ghost of Napoleon, come down to slice a rapier through his gullet, would have been preferable. ~ Julia Quinn

You'll be seeing him tomorrow night, anyway."

"I am?" Hyacinth asked, at precisely the moment Mr. St. Clair said, "She will?"

"You're accompanying me to the Pleinsworth poetry reading," Lady D told her grandson. "Or have you forgotten?"

Hyacinth sat back, enjoying the sight of Gareth St. Clair's mouth opening and closing in obvious distress. He looked a bit like a fish, she decided. A fish with the features of a Greek god, but still, a fish.

"I really…" he said. "That is to say, I can't - "

"You can, and you will be there," Lady D said. "You promised."

He regarded her with a stern expression. "I cannot imagine - "

"Well, if you didn't promise, you should have done, and if you love me…"

Hyacinth coughed to cover her laugh, then tried not to smirk when Mr. St. Clair shot a dirty look in her direction.

"When I die," he said, "surely my epitaph will read, 'He loved his grandmother when no one else would.'"

"And what's wrong with that?" Lady Danbury asked. ~ Julia Quinn

People will think you're courting me.'
'Nonsense, everyone knows I don't court respectable women. ~ Julia Quinn

The progress of Sybilla though a market was the progress of worker bee through a bower of intently propagating blossoms. Everything stuck. From the toy stall she bought two ivory dolls, a hen whistle, a rattle and a charming set of miniature bells for a child's skirts: all were heroically received and borne by Tom, henceforth marked by a faint, distracted jingling. From the spice booth, set with delicious traps for the fat purse, she took cinnamon, figs, cumin seed and saffron, ginger, flower of gillyflower and crocus and - an afterthought - some brazil for dyeing her new wool. These were distributed between Christian and Tom. They listened to a balladmonger, paid him for all the verses of "When Tay's Bank," and bought a lengthy scroll containing a brand-new ballad which Tom Erskine read briefly and then discreetly lost. "No matter," said the Dowager cheerfully, when told. "Dangerous quantity, music. Because it spouts sweet venom in their ears and makes their minds all effeminate, you know. We can't have that." He was never very sure whether she was laughing at him, but rather thought not. They pursued their course purposefully, and the Dowager bought a new set of playing cards, some thread, a boxful of ox feet, a quantity of silver lace and a pair of scissors. She was dissuaded from buying a channel stone, which Tom, no curling enthusiast, refused utterly to carry, and got a toothpick in its case instead. They watched acrobats, invested sixpence for an unconvincing mermaid a ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Gareth sucked in a breath. Hyacinth's brother wasn't going to make this easy on him. But that didn't matter. He had vowed to do this right, and he would not be cowed.

He looked up, meeting the viscount's dark eyes with steady purpose. "I would like to marry Hyacinth," he said. And then, because the viscount did not say anything, because he didn't even move, Gareth added, "Er, if she'll have me."

And then about eight things happened at once. Or perhaps there were merely two or three, and it just seemed like eight, because it was all so unexpected.

First, the viscount exhaled, although that did seem to understate the case. It was more of a sigh, actually - a huge, tired, heartfelt sigh that made the man positively deflate in front of Gareth. Which was astonishing. Gareth had seen the viscount on many occasions and was quite familiar with his reputation. This was not a man who sagged or groaned.

His lips seemed to move through the whole thing, too, and if Gareth were a more suspicious man, he would have thought that the viscount had said, "Thank you, Lord."

Combined with the heavenward tilt of the viscount's eyes, it did seem the most likely translation.

And then, just as Gareth was taking all of this in, Lord Bridgerton let the palms of his hands fall against the desk with surprising force, and he looked Gareth squarely in the eye as he said, "Oh, she'll have you. She will definitely have you."

It wasn ~ Julia Quinn

So, as Lymond strode out and stopped, rigid and white by the doorpost, Sybilla set eyes on Francis, the son of her heart; and so Francis Crawford, after four years of unharnessed power, came face to face at last with his mother.

And Kate, falling upon the door and looking up at her self-contained relative by marriage, saw his face torn apart and left, raw as a wound without features; only pain and shock and despair and appalled recognition, all the more terrible for being perfectly voiceless. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

At the end of the day, he was going to find himself either dead or married, and he wasn't quite prepared to let the Bridgerton brothers take the matter to a vote. And ~ Julia Quinn

Speaking of which," he murmured.
Hyacinth's mouth fell open as he dropped down to one
knee. "What are you doing?" she squeaked, frantically
looking this way and that. Lord St. Clair was surely peeking
out at them, and heaven only knew who else was, too.
"Someone will see," she whispered.
He seemed unconcerned. "People will say we're in
love."
"I - " Good heavens, but how did a woman argue
against that?
"Hyacinth Bridgerton," he said, taking her hand in his,
"will you marry me?"
She blinked in confusion. "I already said I would."
"Yes, but as you said, I did not ask you for the right reasons.
They were mostly the right reasons, but not all."
"I - I - " She was stumbling on the words, choking on
the emotion.
He was staring up at her, his eyes glowing clear and
blue in the dim light of the streetlamps. "I am asking you
to marry me because I love you," he said ~ Julia Quinn

Well, for one thing, about whether you'll make a good husband," she snapped back, finally goaded into anger.
He drew back. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Your past behavior, to start with," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "You haven't exactly been the
model of Christian rectitude."
"This, coming from the woman who ordered me to strip off my clothing earlier this afternoon?" he
taunted.
"Don't be ugly," she said in a low voice.
"Don't push my temper."

-Michael Fielding and Francesca Bridgerton ~ Julia Quinn

I'm not trying to impress you," he replied, glancing up at the front of the room. "Gads," he said, blinking in surprise. "What is that ?"
Hyacinth followed his gaze. Several of the Pleinsworth progeny, one of whom appeared to be costumed as a shepherdess, were milling about.
"Now that's an interesting coincidence," Gareth murmured.
"It might be time to start bleating," she agreed.
"I thought this was meant to be a poetry recitation."
Hyacinth grimaced and shook her head. "An unexpected change to the program, I'm afraid."
"From iambic pentameter to Little Bo Peep?" he asked doubtfully. "It does seem a stretch."
Hyacinth gave him a rueful look. "I think there will still be iambic pentameter."
His mouth fell open. "From Peep?"
She nodded, holding up the program that had been resting in her lap. "It's an original composition," she said, as if that would explain everything. "By Harriet Pleinsworth.The Shepherdess, the Unicorn, and Henry VIII ."
"All of them? At once?"
"I'm not jesting," she said, shaking her head.
"Of course not. Even you couldn't have made this up."
Hyacinth decided to take that as a compliment.
"Why didn't I receive one of these?" he asked, taking the program from her.
"I believe it was decided not to hand them out to the gentlemen," Hyacinth said, glancing about the room. "One has to admire Lady Pleinsworth's foresight, actually. You'd surely flee if you knew what was in store for you. ~ Julia Quinn

Honoria couldn't help but watch her make her way over to
Daisy, and Mr. Bridgerton said, "Don't worry, she's mostly
harmless."
"My cousin Daisy?" she asked dubiously.
"No," he replied, momentarily nonplussed. "Lady Danbury."
Honoria looked past him to Daisy and Lady Danbury. "Is she
deaf?"
"Your cousin Daisy?"
"No, Lady Danbury."
"I don't believe so."
"Oh." Honoria winced. "That's too bad. She might be by the
time Daisy is through with her.
"That's not going to end well," he murmured.
Honoria could do nothing but shake her head and murmur,
"No."
"Is your cousin fond of her toes?"
Honoria blinked in confusion. "I believe so, yes."
"She'll want to watch that cane, then."
Honoria looked back just in time to see Daisy let out a small
shriek as she tried to jump back. She was not successful with the
latter; Lady Danbury's cane had her pinned rather firmly. ~ Julia Quinn

Anthony Bridgerton leaned back in his leather chair,and then announced,
"I'm thinking about getting married."
Benedict Bridgerton, who had been indulging in a habit his mother detested - tipping his chair drunkenly on the back two legs - fell over.
Colin Bridgerton started to choke.
Luckily for Colin, Benedict regained his seat with enough time to smack him soundly on the back, sending a green olive sailing across the table.
It narrowly missed Anthony's ear. ~ Julia Quinn

No words for the passion. No words for the need.No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment.And so, on an otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon, in the heart of Mayfair, in a quiet drawing room on Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.And it was glorious. ~ Julia Quinn

But Hyacinth Bridgerton, who at ten should have known the least about kisses of anyone, just blinked thoughtfully, and said, I think it's nice. If they're laughing now, they'll probably be laughing forever. ~ Julia Quinn

Honoria nodded and was about to say something utterly
forgettable when she saw that his hand had been bandaged.
"I hope your injury is not severe," she said politely.
"Oh, this?" he held up his hand. His fingers were free to waggle,
but the rest of it looked rather like a mitt. "It's nothing. An
altercation with a letter opener."
"Well, please do be careful of infection," Honoria said,
somewhat more forcefully than was de rigueur. "If it grows red, or
swollen, or even worse, yellow, then you must see a doctor at
once."
"Green?" he quipped.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You listed so many colors about which I must be wary."
For a moment Honoria could only stare. Wound infection was
not a laughing matter.
"Lady Honoria?" he murmured.
She decided to proceed as if he'd said nothing. "Most
importantly, you must watch for reddish streaks spreading from the
wound. Those are the worst."
He blinked, but if he was startled by the turn of the
conversation, he did not show it. Instead he looked down at his
hand with a curious eye and said, "How red?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"How red do the streaks have to be before I must worry?"
"How do you know so much about medicine?" Lady Danbury
cut in.
"Do you know, I'm not sure how red," Honoria told Mr.
Bridgerton. "I would think anything stripey ought to be a cause for
alarm. ~ Julia Quinn

I cannot feel like a duchess in my
mother's sitting room."
"What do you feel like, then?"
"Hmmm." She took a sip of her tea. "Just Daphne
Bridgerton, I suppose. It's difficult to shed the surname in
this clan. In spirit, that is."
"I hope that is a compliment," Lady Bridgerton remarked.
Daphne just smiled at her mother. "I shall never escape
you, I'm afraid." She turned to Gareth. "There is nothing like one's family to make one feel like one has never
grown up. ~ Julia Quinn

But Benedict Bridgerton was obviously determined not to be a gentleman this afternoon, because when she moved one of her feet-just to flex her toes, which were falling asleep in her shoes, honest!-barely half a second passed before he growled, "Don't even think about it."
"I wasn't!" she protested. "My foot was falling asleep. And hurry up! It can't possibly take so long to get dressed."
"Oh?" he drawled.
"You're doing this just to torture me," she grumbled.
"You may feel free to face me at any time," he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "I assure you that I asked you to turn your back for the sake of your sensibilities, not mine. ~ Julia Quinn

But if he had indeed blushed-and his cheeks did feel a touch warm-neither of his brothers saw it, because they didn't say anything, and if there was anything in life as certain as, say, the sun rising in the east,it was that a Bridgerton never passed up the opportunity to tease and torment another Bridgerton.
"She's been talking about Penelope Featherington nonstop," Colin said with a scowl. "I tell you, I've known the girl since we were both in short pants. Er, since I was in short pants, at least. She was in..." He scowled some more, because both his brothers were laughing at him. "She was in whatever it is that young girls wear."
"Frocks?" Anthony supplied helpfully.
"Petticoats?" was Benedict's suggestion.
"The point is," Colin said forcefully, "that I have known her forever, and I can assure you I am not likely to fall in love with her."
Anthony turned to Benedict and said, "They'll be married within a year.Mark my words."
Colin crossed his arms. "Anthony!"
"Maybe two," Benedict said. "He's young yet."
"Unlike you," Colin retorted. "Why am I besiged by Mother, I wonder? Good God, you're thirty-one-"
"Thirty," Benedict snapped.
"Regardless, one would think you'd be getting the brunt of it. ~ Julia Quinn

This Author has come to the conclusion that there are rakes, and there are Rakes.
Anthony Bridgerton is a Rake.
A rake (lower-case) is youthful and immature. He flaunts his exploits, behaves with utmost idiocy, and thinks himself dangerous to women.
A Rake (upper-case) knows he is dangerous to women.
He doesn't flaunt his exploits because he doesn't need to. He knows he will be whispered about by men and women alike, and in fact, he'd rather they didn't whisper about him at all. He knows who he is and what he has done; further recountings are, to him, redundant.
He doesn't behave like an idiot for the simple reason that he isn't an idiot ~ Julia Quinn

Hyacinth," he said.
She looked at him expectantly.
"Hyacinth," he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. "Hyacinth."
"We know her name," came his grandmother's voice.
Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. "Hyacinth," he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, "would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?"
Her eyes widened, the misted, and her lips, which he'd been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. "I ... I ... "
It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.
"I ... I ... "
"Yes!" his grandmother finally yelled. "Yes! She'll marry you!"
"She can speak for herself," he said.
"No," Lady D said, "she can't. Quite obviously. ~ Julia Quinn

Children," Lady Bridgerton said with a sigh as she retook her seat. "I am never quite certain if I'm glad I had them. ~ Julia Quinn

Daphne felt something wild and wicked take hold. "Let's walk in the garden," she said softly.
"We can't."
"We must."
"We can't. ~ Julia Quinn

Miss Bridgerton," he said, "the devil himself couldn't scare you."

She forced her eyes to meet his. "That's not a compliment, is it?"

He lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself," he murmured.

To all who observed, he was the soul of propriety, but Hyacinth caught the daring gleam in his eye, and she felt the breath leave her body as tingles of electricity rushed across her skin. Her lips parted, but she had nothing to say, not a single word. There was nothing but air, and even that seemed in short supply.

And then he straightened as if nothing had happened and said, "Do let me know what you decide."

She just stared at him.

"About the compliment," he added. "I am sure you will wish to let me know how I feel about you."

Her mouth fell open.

He smiled. Broadly. "Speechless, even. I'm to be commended."

"You - "

"No. No," he said, lifting one hand in the air and pointing toward her as if what he really wanted to do was place his finger on her lips and shush her. "Don't ruin it. The moment is too rare. ~ Julia Quinn

Nevertheless, Sybilla was able to put her own accurate interpretation on Janet's groan. "Religion or women?" asked Lady Culter expertly.

"Women!" It was a cry of despair. "Can you see Buccleuch turning a whisker about women! Not a bit of it. Moral Philosophy, that's the trouble," said Janet with gloomy relish. "They've taught poor Will moral philosophy and his father's fit to boil. ~ Dorothy Dunnettunnett