My entire notion of friendship altered when I depended on someone for more than just the pleasant passing of time.
Courtney MilanIf you were a shadowy, anonymous figure, it made sense to pretend everything had gone according to some diabolical plan. Never mind if it hadn't.
Courtney MilanI assumed I would be better off telling you about this, rather than waiting for the entire thing to blow up in my face.
Courtney MilanStichwörter: secrets
sometimes I wish that this quest had not come to me. Justice is an impossible beast to track. The trail is lonely, and she offers no reward when she's caught but the promise of another hunt.
Courtney MilanIt was not lust itself he felt, but the premonition of desire, as if the wind that whipped around his cravat were whispering in his ears. /Her. Choose her./
Courtney MilanThis time, his gaze fixed on her and stayed. The wind blew, whipping her skirts about her ankles, as if he'd called up a gale with the intensity of his stare.
Courtney MilanHe just looked at his brother and very slowly shook his head, as if to reprove him. 'Ash' was all he said.
The elder Turner reached out and ruffled his younger brother's hair. Mr. Mark Turner did not glower under that touch like a youth pretending to be an adult; neither did he preen like a child being recognized by his elder. He could not have been more than four-and-twenty, the same age as Margaret's second-eldest brother. Yet he stood and regarded his brother, unflinching under his touch, his eyes steady and ageless.
Stichwörter: brothers
It would have been easy to shut her eyes and let him kiss her. To have the choice taken from her in one heated, passive moment, with nothing for her to do but comply. But he was asking for more than her artless submission. Not deference, not docility, but...defiance.
'I want you to choose me,' he said, 'well and truly choose me of your own accord. I don't want you to wait at the crossroads in the hopes that I will force the choice upon you.
Ned waved him off and studied the map in front of him. That sense of unease remained even after Harcroft had taken himself off. In the dim light, the pencil marks seemed child's sketches, failing to capture some basic truth of reality. The numbers still didn't cast up into a proper sum in his head. Two and two came together, but they only managed to whisper dark intimations amongst themselves, hinting at the possibility of a distant four.
Courtney MilanYou're unmoved by the protestations of the rabble. When they gather outside your house, massed in numbers larger than you can count, you'll laugh in their faces.'
'Shut up, Marshall,' Bradenton growled. 'Shut up.'
'Yes, that's a good one. Tell them that while they're chanting. "Shut up." That might work. Maybe they'll listen. Or maybe they'll stop talking and start throwing rocks. Did you know they played the Marseillaise near the end of the demonstration?
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