Chasing Cassandra (The Ravenels, #6)

by Lisa Kleypas

“You’re not too plump,” he said gruffly. “The more of you there is in the world, the better.”

“But life is what novels are about. A novel can contain more truth than a thousand newspaper articles or scientific papers. It can make you imagine, just for a little while, that you’re someone else—and then you understand more about people who are different from you.”

“Haven’t you ever liked someone or something right away, without knowing exactly why, but feeling sure you would discover the reasons later?”

But unfortunately, true love never seemed to happen to someone who was looking for it. Love was a prankster, preferring to sneak up on people who were busy doing other things.

“There’s nothing wrong about not knowing something. The stupid people are the ones who think they know everything.”

no matter what example you set, children insist on turning out how they will.”

‘Troubled are they who want the world, troubled are they who have it.’

The things that help us climb to the top are the same things that keep us from enjoying it once we’re there.”

Had Tom been capable of falling in love, he would have right there and then, as he watched Lady Cassandra Ravenel serenade a ragamuffin while cutting his hair. She was so capable and clever and adorable, it made his chest ache with a hot pressure that threatened to fracture something.

“You bought an entire newspaper business . . . for my sake?” Tom thought for a long moment before answering. Now his voice was different than she’d ever heard it, quiet and even a little shaken. “There are no limits to what I would do for you.”

“Your body isn’t an ornament designed for other people’s pleasure. It belongs to you alone. You’re magnificent just as you are. Whether you lose weight or gain more, you’ll still be magnificent. Have a cake if you want one.”

“You’re saying if I gained another stone, or even two stones, on top of this, you’d still find me desirable?” “God, yes,” he said without hesitation. “Whatever size you are, I’ll have a place for every curve.”

“everything I have, everything I am, is at your service. All you have to do is tell me what you want.”

Not for the first time, Tom reflected there was no understanding women. It wasn’t that they were illogical. Just the opposite. Their logic was of a higher order, too complex and advanced to submit to a complete proof calculus. Women assigned mysterious values to details a man would overlook, and were able to draw piercing conclusions about his innermost secrets.

“It’s about to rain forks and knives,” Winterborne reported, water drops glittering on his hair and the shoulders of his coat. He reached for a glass of champagne from a silver tray on the table, and raised it in Tom’s direction. “Good luck it is, for the wedding day.” “Why is that, exactly?” Tom asked, disgruntled. “A wet knot is harder to untie,” Winterborne said. “The marriage bond will be tight and long lasting.” Ethan Ransom volunteered, “Mam always said rain on a wedding day washed away the sadness of the past.”

“I don’t believe in luck anyway.” “Neither do you believe in love,” Winterborne reminded him with a touch of friendly mockery. “But here you stand with your heart in your fist.” The phrase was one of those Welshisms that sounded like a misstatement, but upon reflection made sense. A man who wore his heart on his sleeve was displaying his emotions . . . but a man with his heart in his fist was about to offer it to someone.

“No, this is much better than hearts,” Tom exclaimed, his expression more earnest than any she’d seen from him before. “Linking their names with Euler’s infinity symbol means . . .” He paused, considering how best to explain it. “The two of them formed a complete unit . . . a togetherness . . . that contained infinity. Their marriage had a beginning and end, but every day of it was filled with forever. It’s a beautiful concept.” He paused before adding awkwardly, “Mathematically speaking.”

Tea Scones I found the recipe for these soft and perfect little scones in several Victorian era cookbooks, and tweaked it just enough to make it work for us. The Victorians often added corn starch or potato starch to baked goods like this, and it makes the scones incredibly light and fluffy. Unfortunately, Greg and the kids and I can’t make afternoon tea a daily ritual like the Ravenels do, but when we get a chance, we always include scones. These are easy and delicious! Ingredients 1 3/4 cup flour 1/4 cup corn starch 1/2 tsp. salt 3 tsp. baking powder 1 stick butter, cold and chopped into dice sized pieces 3/4 cup whole milk A little half and half or cream for brushing over the scones Directions Preheat oven to 425. Mix the dry ingredients with a whisk or fork. Cut in the butter with a pastry blender or a fork, mashing and mixing until it’s all crumbs. Pour in the milk and gently mix until it’s a big ball. Sprinkle the dough with flour, sprinkle a rolling pin and cutting board/mat with more flour, and roll to 1/2 inch thickness. (Tip: The less you touch, mash and fool with the dough, the more tender the scones will be.) Use a small biscuit cutter (mine’s about 2 inches) to cut little circles, and put them on a nonstick cookie sheet or pan (I like to cover mine with parchment) Use a pastry brush to brush half and half over the top of each scone. Bake for 12 minutes. (This is where you have to use your judgement—if they’re not nicely golden brown, keep them in another coupl...