It's just that I love you so much, and -'
'Belle, please.'
'Please what? Please don't tell you I love you? Please don't love you?'
'I can't accept it, Belle.'
...
'How can I possibly let myself continue to love a man who can never love me back?'
'But Belle,' he whispered. 'I do love you.'
John wasn't certain how he expected her to respond, but it was certainly not in the manner she did. She stepped back as if hit ... 'No,' she finally gasped. 'No. Don't say that. Don't tell me that.' ... 'You can't do that,' she said, each word a hoarse little stab of pain. 'You're not allowed. You can’t say that and not let me do the same. It isn’t fair.
Stichwörter: love-confession
In this light your eyes look almost purple. Like black raspberries.'
Belle laughed softly. 'You must be in a state of perpetual hunger. You keep likening me to fruit.
She absentmindedly twirled her fingers around a lock of her long, brown hair, one of her few concessions to vanity. It would have been more sensible to cut it short, but it was thick and soft, and Henry just couldn't bear to part with it. Besides, it was her habit to wind it around her fingers while she was thinking hard about a problem, as she was doing now.
Julia QuinnEvery now and then she'd see a fine lady in a gorgeous gown that fit her to perfection. Such women didn't have feet, Henry decided. They had rollers - virtually gliding along. And wherever they went, a dozen besotted men followed.
Julia QuinnHe had never expected a title, never expected lands of his own or a household to go with them. His father had been a younger son of a younger son; God only knew how many Dunfords had had to die to put him in line for this inheritance.
Julia QuinnStichwörter: dunford
One would think her tired mind would go utterly blank, but the opposite was true. She could not stop thinking about the highwayman. And his kiss. And his identity. And his kiss. And if she would meet him again. And that he'd kissed her. And-
Julia QuinnShe inched forward, although she wasn't sure why. If the dowager started spouting off about the highwayman and his resemblance to her favorite son, it wasn't as if she would be able to stop her. But still, the proximity at least gave the illusion that she might be able to prevent disaster.
Julia QuinnAs she walked slowly down the hall, she could hear them arguing - nothing violent, nothing impassioned. But then, she'd not have expected that. Cavendish tempers ran cold, and they were far more likely to attack with a frozen barb than a heated cry.
Julia QuinnStichwörter: arguments
It had been a marvelous childhood. Damn near perfect. If he was not leading the life he'd anticipated, if he sometimes lay in bed and wondered what the hell he was doing robbing coaches in the dead of night - at least he knew that the road to this point had been paved with his own choices, his own flaws.
Julia QuinnHe just wanted to see it. From afar. To see what might have been, what he was glad hadn't been. But maybe should have been.
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