The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel, #3)

by Sarah MacLean

“Your Grace,” he said. She blinked. “I beg your pardon?” “You called me ‘my lord.’ It’s ‘Your Grace.’” She smirked. “How did you know how thoroughly women adore being corrected by men? And over forms of address, especially. It is a great wonder that none of us have ever fallen in love with you.”

“He hates me.” The words were honest and real—words she’d clung to every time she’d doubted herself in the last three years. Which was often. “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.”

“The bastards who spout shit about it being better to have loved and lost have either never loved or never lost.”

This woman didn’t need him. In all the time he’d sought her, he’d imagined her fearful. Weak. Ruined. This woman was none of those things. There was nothing cowering about her. Instead, she was all strength.

Why was it that men’s rage came in a flurry of fists, while women’s came on a flood of tears?

“You’ll find I have little interest in what is done. Instead, I prefer getting things done.”

Decent men like a woman who knows her value.”

“That is the problem with truth; so often you must rely on faith to embrace it.”

“I like that she knows herself. That she believes in herself. That she did not allow herself to be less than what she deserved,”

“No one is forever until they are.”