How could she go on without him? And, at the same time, how could she go on knowing that every
moment of their time together had meant so little to him
If I were anyone else…your opera singer…the woman across the hall…would you have apologized?”
He looked confused. “No…but you are neither of those women. You deserve better.”
“Better,” she repeated, frustrated. “That’s just my point! You and the rest of society believe that it’s better for me to be set upon a pedestal of primness and propriety—which might have been fine if a decade on that pedestal hadn’t simply landed me on the shelf. Perhaps unmarried young women like our sisters should be there. But what of me?” Her voice dropped as she looked down at the cards in her hands. “I’m never going to get a chance to experience life from up there. All that is up there is dust and unwanted apologies. The same cage as hers”—she indicated the woman outside—“merely a different gilt.
Even as she’d come to know the real Ralston—the Ralston who was not cut from heroic cloth—Callie had failed to see the truth. And, instead of seeing her own heartbreak coming, she had fallen in love, not with her fantasy, but with this new, flawed Ralston.
Sarah MacLeanShe’d so believed he could—that decades marked by disdain for emotion could have been nothing more than a faint memory in his checkered past. That she could love him enough to prove to him that the world was worth his caring, his trust. That she could turn him into the man of whom she had dreamed for so long.
That was perhaps the hardest truth of all—that Ralston, the man she’d pined over for a decade, had never been real. He’d never been the strong and silent Odysseus; he’d never been aloof Darcy; never Antony, powerful and passionate. He had only ever been Ralston, arrogant and flawed and altogether flesh and blood.
..he wanted her.
And at another time, as another man, he would have her. Without hesitation. As lover. . . as more.
Stichwörter: love romance regret longing historical-romance
She had wanted more than she could have.
She had wanted him, and more... she had wanted him to want her.
In the name of something bigger than tradition, bolder than reputation, more important than a silly title.
Stichwörter: romance historical-fiction love-heartache
Kisses should not leave you satisfied. They should leave you wanting.
Sarah MacLeanI've loved him for a decade. And I had him for one day before I made a complete and utter mess of things. Or he did. I'm still not sure about that.
Sarah MacLeanHow do we get into Blackmoor's study? Did you climb in?"
"No, he lifted me in."
"Hmm. Right, then. Vivi will have to give us a boost up."
"She will, will she?" from the booster in question.
"Well, how else do we sneak in?"
"I rather thought that we could knock on the front door and have Bingham let us in," Alex said matter-of-factly, referencing Blackmoor's ancient butler, as she led the trio around the corner of the house and toward the main entrance.
"What? We can't do that!" Ella stopped, indignant.
"Whyever not?" Vivi asked, following Alex. "It seems a perfectly acceptable way to enter. In fact, I believe I've been entering houses that way for my entire life.
Dear Sixpence,
I saved them all, you know. Every letter you ever sent, even those to which I never replied. I’m sorry for so many things, my love: that I left
you; that I never came home; that it took me so long to realize that you were my home and that, with you by my side, none of the rest
mattered.
But in the darkest hours, on the coldest nights, when I felt I’d lost everything, I still had your letters. And through them, in some small way,
I still had you.
I loved you then, my darling Penelope, more than I could imagine—just as I love you now, more than you can know.
Michael
Hell House, February 1831
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