I've never been particularly fond of the artifice of flirtation.
Elizabeth HoytNow, now," said Vale in a sickeningly sweet voice reminiscent of a nursery nanny. "I already gave him a drubbing for courting Emmie."
Reynaud raised his eyebrows. "You did?"
"He did not," Hartley said even as Vale nodded happily. "I threw him down the stairs."
Vale pursed his lips and looked skyward. "Not my recollection, but I can see how your memory of the event may've become hazy.
Have you asked the question yet? I'm rather good at it, if I do say to myself. I got three different ladies to agree to marry me while you were gone. Did you know? Some didn't actually make it to the alter, but that's another problem altogether. Perhaps you'd like some pointers on-
Elizabeth HoytMelisande blinked rapidly, then looked back to the little box with garnet earrings. Her ears weren't even pierced. She touched one of the garnets with a fingertip and wondered if he'd ever looked-really looked- at her at all.
Elizabeth HoytTo fight demons, one must assume the guise of a demon
Elizabeth HoytBe that as it may, a gentleman doesn’t continue to press his
attentions on a lady who can’t return them.”
“Then, as I see it, you have two problems, my lord,” Harry said.
Tony’s eyes narrowed.
“One, that the lady does, in fact, return my attentions, and two”—Harry turned to meet the earl’s
gaze—“I am no gentleman.
Just because I don't deserve her doesn't mean I won't fight to keep her.
Elizabeth HoytIt took a moment to recognize Timothy... her first love. There had been a time when the mere sight of his handsome face had made her catch her breath. It had taken her years to recover from losing Timothy. Now the pain of his loss was muted and somehow apart from her, as if a broken engagement had happened to some other young, naive girl. She looked at him, and all she could think was, Thank Goodness. Thank goodness she's escaped marrying him.
Elizabeth HoytTag: first-love getting-over-lost-love
It hardly mattered. She was tired of waiting for him to acknowledge who he was. Tired of donning a false mask of gaiety when she was so much more—felt so much more—beneath. No one had ever noticed her mask. No one but him. If he couldn’t or wouldn’t make the first move, then damn it, she would.
Elizabeth HoytTag: winter isabel elizabeth-hoyt thief-of-shadows
This was madness; this was delirium.
Elizabeth HoytTag: elizabeth-hoyt thief-of-shadows
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