A Week to Be Wicked (Spindle Cove #2)

”You have no compunction ruining your repu

”You have no compunction ruining your reputation, nor those of your sisters. But have you given a moment’s thought to mine?”

“To your what? Your reputation?” She laughed. “But your reputation is terrible.”

He colored, slightly. “I don’t know that it’s terrible.”

She put her left forefinger to her right thumb. “Point the first. You’re a shameless rake.”

“Yes.” He drew out the word.

She touched her index finger. “Point the second. Your name is synonymous with destruction. Bar fights, scandals…literal explosions. Wherever you go, mayhem follows.”

“I don’t really try at that part. It just…happens.”

"That is brave of you, pet. Offering yourself to wed me in your sister's stead. But truly, I--"

"My name is Minerva. I'm not your pet. And you're deranged if you think I'd ever marry you."

"But I though you just said--"

"Run away with you, yes. Marry you?" She made an incredulous noise in her throat. "Please."

”You’re ruining this journey,” she all but shouted. “You ruin everything.”

“Well, I beg your pardon, but I believe you signed on to be ruined!”

"Don't worry," he said. "This is ideal, you'll see. We do everything backward. It's just how we are. We began with an elopement. After that, we made love. Next, we'll progress to courting. When we're old and silver-haired, perhaps we'll finally get around to flirtation. We'll make fond eyes at each other over our mugs of gruel. We'll be the envy of couples half our age."

...Colin...“I’d be more than happy to let you survey my physical perfection in its entirety. But only if I get to see you, too?” ...It’s only fair. Tit for tat.”

Minerva’s reply... “How is that fair? You’ve seen countless tits.” “I don’t know why you’d need a peep at mine,” she went on. “And since you’ve proudly waved your...tat...before half the women in England, I find it odd that you’d claim modesty now.”

"It's all right," she said. "You're through." "Jesus," he finally managed, pushing water off his face. "Jesus Christ and John the Baptist. For that matter, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John." Still not enough. He needed to reach back to the Old Testament for this. "Obadiah. Nebuchadnezzar. Methuselah and Job." "Be calm," she said, taking him by the shoulders. "Be calm. And there are women in the Bible, you know." "Yes. As I recall it, they were trouble, every last one."

Minerva? Plain, bookish, distracted, awkward with gentlemen. In a word, hopeles

Minerva? Plain, bookish, distracted, awkward with gentlemen. In a word, hopeless.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “this is hardly the first time I’ve answered the door in the middle of night and found a woman waiting on the other side. But you’re certainly the least expected one yet.” He sent her lower half an assessing look.
“And the most muddy.”
She ruefully surveyed her mud- caked boots and bedraggled hem. A midnight seductress she was not. “This isn’t that kind of visit.”
“Give me a moment to absorb the disappointment.”
“I’d rather give you a moment to dress.”

Minerva would like for Colin to dress because she finds him alarmingly alluring. And, when around alluring men—and Colin is the most alluring she’s ever met–Minerva’s big brain turns to mush.

Minerva considered herself a reasonably intelligent person, but good heavens
. . . handsome men made her stupid. She grew so flustered around them, never knew where to look or what to say. The reply meant to be witty and clever would come out sounding bitter or lame.
Sometimes a teasing remark from Lord Payne’s quarter quelled her into dumb silence altogether.
Only days later, while she was banging away at a cliff face with a rock hammer, would the perfect retort spring to mind.
Remarkable. The longer she stared at him now, the more she could actually feel her intelligence waning.

Colin doesn’t dress and Minerva, helped along by a bit of wine, asks Colin to marry her instead or, rather, to make it look as though he’s eloped with her. She asks him to accompany her to the upcoming Royal Geological Society of Scotland’s annual meeting in Edinburgh where she plans to present her fossil findings which are so extraordinary she is sure she will win the five hundred guinea prize for the best presentation. She promises Colin her prize money if he comes with her. Colin thinks hers is an exceedingly bad plan. Not only will it ruin Minerva’s chances of ever marrying—the trip entails two unchaperoned weeks in his company—but it goes against his own personal code of ethics. He tells her,

“I’m a lover of women, yes.” Then he lifted his empty hand. “And yes, I seem to break everything I touch. But thus far I’ve succeeded in keeping the two proclivities separate, you see. I sleep with women and I ruin things, but I’ve never yet ruined an innocent woman.”

When a girl trudged through the rain at midnight to knock at the Devil’s do

When a girl trudged through the rain at midnight to knock at the Devil’s door, the Devil should at least have the depravity—if not the decency—to answer.

"Don't worry," he said. "This is ideal, you'll see. We do everything backward. It's just how we are. We began with an elopement. After that, we made love. Next, we'll progress to courting. When we're old and silver-haired, perhaps we'll finally get around to flirtation. We'll make fond eyes at each other over our mugs of gruel. We'll be the envy of couples half our age."