I will always want her,” Philip said in a quiet, furious voice. “Always! There is nothing you could do to change that.
How could you not know that there is nothing in the world I want as much as I want you?
His arms surrounded me, pulling me close, holding me as if I was infinitely precious. I burned and trembled in his embrace.
I promise not to love you for your misfortunes.
Of course, one must always take into consideration the modestly of the lady. Too subtle and she may miss your meaning all together. Too strong, and she may never look you in the face again.
He looked heavenward with a sigh. “Are you always this stubborn?” I thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I think I am.” Philip’s expression wavered between exasperation and amusement. Amusement won with a reluctant laugh.
Even more than a heart, hope was a necessary traveling companion.
I felt a crack in my defenses – a weak place where truth knifed and twisted and pried for an opening.
I stood up, suddenly very upset, and took a step away from him. Philip grabbed the hem of my gown. “Wait,” he said, laughing. I looked down at him, my hands clenched into fists. “Please don’t leave,” he said, a cajoling smile turning his lips up charmingly. “I won’t do it again.” Well, at least he knew why I was upset. But the idea of him not doing it again? Hah! I raised an eyebrow in deep skepticism. “In the next five minutes,” he added with a chuckle.
Are you ready for your lesson in romance?” Philip asked with a teasing gleam in his eye.
It was wild and dark and grand and tall and fierce and haunting all at once. And it thrilled me to the core. It thrilled me and it frightened me, for it whipped at my carefully closeted heart, much as the wind had whipped at my hair and skirts and sent my bonnet tumbling.
I would rather have sunshine and wind and sky adorn my head than a handsome bonnet.
The decision is not mine to make,” Philip said. “I promised Meg to Miss Marianne for the duration of her visit. You will have to ask her.
Words alone were ambiguous, unreliable. But what could be reliable, if not words.
Passion is a fire that burns and leaves nothing standing in its wake. It is illogical and unreasonable. Love is the downfall of men and the entrapment of women. It is a cage that once one enters, one can never escape.
I didn’t want to face what could potentially break my heart.
She was too good. I wanted to hate her, yet to hate her would be a greater condemnation of my own faults than of hers.
I wonder what you will do with your wings once you have found them. I wonder how far away they will take you. And I fear them, for my sake, at the same time that I hope for them, for yours.
But what is the heart of a man, if not his actions? His words? The way he interacts with the world around him? That is the measure of a man. That is why a gentleman should always be polite, helpful and respectful, honorable and true. A gentleman is held to a higher standard in the world because he has been given so much. It is a gentleman’s duty in life to improve the world around him, to make it a better place because of his influence.
They both used smiles to hurt, to deceive, to injure. The smile she used on me at this moment was sharp and cruel, cutting at me like a quick knife.
His voice was so soft and husky, like a caress. Something shivered within me. “Even now, after all these years, I am at a loss. But on that day I promised myself that if I ever found you drowning – if I ever found you in need of saving – that I would do anything in my power to help you.