“Die!” the unicorn shrieked. “Die! Die! Die!”
Today I fell in love.
It would be rather easy to love Hyacinth Bridgerton. He didn’t know where that thought had come from, or what strange corner of his brain had come to that conclusion, because he was quite certain it would be nearly impossible to LIVE with her, but somehow he knew that it wouldn’t be at all difficult to love her.
“My aim,” she said tightly, “is to find a husband. Not to snare one, not to trap one, not to drag one to the altar, but to find one, preferably one with whom I might share a long and contented life.”
Rupert’s poetry could surely have been improved by a cow or two. Saying moo on cue at Waterloo.
Eloise just stared at him. As long as she lived, she’d never understand men. She had four brothers, and quite frankly should have understood them better than most women, and maybe it had taken all of her twenty-eight years to come to this realization, but men were, quite simply, freaks.
“So it wasn’t the man himself you loved, so much as the way he made you feel.”
“Is there a difference?” Susannah asked.
David appeared to consider her question quite deeply before finally saying, “Yes. Yes, I think there is.”
Colin decided then and there that the female mind was a strange and incomprehensible organ – one which no man should even attempt to understand. There wasn’t a woman alive who could go from point A to B without stopping at C, D, X, and 12 along the way.
It suddenly made sense. Only twice in his life had he felt this inexplicable, almost mystical attraction to a woman. He’d thought it remarkable, to have found two, when in his heart he’d always believed there was only one perfect woman out there for him.
His heart had been right. There was only one.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Anthony swore, completely forgetting that he was in the company of the woman he planned to make his wife. “She’s got the mallet of death.”