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He took a few steps toward her, his movements slow and sleek like a cat. “After you kissed me?”
You being a rather large twat waffle Anthony
“In that case, you should really head out to the flower gardens.
You cheeky b Violet Bridgerton
“Kate is the same way. She is forever telling me that she knows perfectly well how to live her life and doesn’t need a dead man to give her instructions.”
“You fiend,” she growled.
Me in any sort of competative atmosphere to my opponent
She was kicking one along the path as they walked, occasionally breaking her stride or stepping to the side just so she could give it a kick and keep it flying ahead of her.
She is neurodivergent for sure
And then there was Kate Sheffield. The bane of his existence. And the object of his desires.
“It was on my third birthday. My father married Mary only a few months later. He didn’t observe the proper mourning period, and it shocked some of the neighbors, but he thought I needed a mother more than he needed to follow etiquette.”
It was that spark. That damnable spark that never seemed to dim between them. That awful prickle of awareness that burned every time she entered a room, or took a breath, or pointed a toe. That sinking feeling that he could, if he let himself, love her. Which was the one thing he feared most. Perhaps the only thing he feared at all.
Anthony held himself still for several seconds, thinking he might like to murder all those men and women who had compared her to Edwina and found her lacking. Kate truly had no idea that she might be attractive and desirable in her own right.
SO TELL HER YOU ASS
“It was obvious to me that he was smitten. I do not know why no one else saw it.”
Mary, Violet, and probably Colin and Daphne saw it
“I believe I was trying to determine what pleases you, as all good husbands should do.”
We love a man who pays attention
And Kate would never know if, when Anthony snuffed the candles and took her to bed, he closed his eyes . . . And pictured another woman’s face.
I hate that she has this idea so deep in her head
What smoldered in the bedroom and what whispered in his heart were two different things. He could keep them separate. He would keep them separate. He might not wish to love his wife, but that did not mean they could not enjoy each other thoroughly in bed.
The one thing she asked of you before taking her to bed was to just love me. You're an ass to take her to bed while still so adamant about not doing the ONE THING she asked
There was nothing, he decided, more breathtaking than Kate’s face when flushed with desire.
TELL HER THAT! She's been conditioned by everyone, INCLUDING YOU, that she is second choice. TELL HER THAT IS INCORRECT
One of his brows arched imperiously. “Are you arguing with me, my lady? And on my wedding night, no less.” “It’s my wedding night, too,” she pointed out.
Banter in the bedroom too? Please
“Yes, he’s painfully shy, poor fellow. The vicar told me he had hives for a week after ending up seated next to Cressida Cowper at supper.” “Well, that would give anyone hives.”
That poor man xD
He had fallen in love with his wife, and now the thought of dying, of leaving her, of knowing that their moments together would form a short poem and not a long and lusty novel—it was more than he could bear.
He left, not feeling the cold, not feeling the rain, which had begun to fall with surprising force. He left, not feeling anything.
Anthony you absolute dickhead
Kate— Anthony is here. He looks a wreck. It is, of course, none of my business, but I thought you might like to know. Eloise
Love Eloise. The real MVP
“What the hell is he talking about?” Anthony grumbled. “I think,” Benedict said, leaning back in his chair, “that he’s telling you you’re an ass.” “Just so!” Colin exclaimed.
She rolled her eyes and let out an indignant huff. “The world would be a much happier place if people would just listen to me before they up and got married,” she added. “I could have the entire Marriage Mart matched up in a week.”
You tell em Lady Danbury
“You have to live each hour as if it’s your last,” she said, “and each day as if you were immortal.
Since Anthony has only been stung once in his life, it’s impossible to know whether or not he’s allergic. As the author of this book, however, I’d like to think I have a certain creative control over the medical conditions of my characters, so I’ve decided that Anthony has no allergies of any kind, and furthermore will live to the ripe old age of 92.
“What is happening?” Daphne asked, twisting about. Kate poked her head out and smiled triumphantly. “I do believe he’s going to kill me.” “With so many witnesses?” Simon asked.
Mrs. Gibbons turned to her and beamed. “You, Miss Sophia Maria Beckett, are going to the masquerade!”
Who needs a fairy godmother when you have housemaids who pity you and want to be petty to your stepfamily
Sophie looked up to see the housekeeper holding up a pair of long, elbow-length gloves. “Look,” she said, taking one from Mrs. Gibbons and examining it. “The Penwood crest. And it’s monogrammed. Right at the hem.”
That seems dangerous
A few minutes later the maid returned with a pair of white satin slippers, stitched in silver and adorned with exquisite faux-diamond rosettes.
I'm afraid after Posy made such a fuss about her mother spotting specs of dirt on her shoes a mile away that they're putting Sophie in a pair of her shoes, a WHITE pair
Penelope forgotten, he pushed his way through the crowd until he was but a few steps from her side.
Poor Penelope
She looked behind her just long enough to see that Benedict had been waylaid by some elderly lady with a cane, then ran out of the building and around front, where the Penwood carriage was waiting, just as Mrs. Gibbons had said it would.
Lady Danbury that you?
“I would allow my children to marry paupers if it would bring them happiness.”
Hold on to that
And in other news from the masquerade ball, Miss Posy Reiling’s costume as a mermaid was somewhat unfortunate, but not, This Author thinks, as dreadful as that of Mrs. Featherington and her two eldest daughters, who went as a bowl of fruit—Philippa as an orange, Prudence as an apple, and Mrs. Featherington as a bunch of grapes. Sadly, none of the three looked the least bit appetizing.
They didn't even dress Penelope to match the family???
Sophie watched with horror as two more men emerged from the shadows.
Tell me Benedict is bouta burst upon this scene
“Bridgerton!” Phillip called out. “Come join us!” Sophie’s eyes snapped open. Bridgerton?
BLESS
He wasn’t going to recognize her. He had no idea who she was. Sophie didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
Your laugh might give you away
It was clear to all of the guests at the Mottram ball Thursday last that Miss Rosamund Reiling has set her cap for Mr. Phillip Cavender. It is the opinion of This Author that the two are well matched indeed.
Shade xD
“I haven’t much, I’m afraid. Just a change of clothing and a few personal mementos.”
Personal mementos. Such as a monogrammed glove perchance?
(It should be noted that Mrs. Featherington also gave the poor girl cast-off clothing, but anyone who has ever observed the attire of the Featherington girls would understand why the lady’s maid would not view this as a benefit.)
Dead xD
Someone ought to tell the woman that one girl cannot do the work of three.
Realizing how valuable Sophie really was? Probably not
Sophie certainly didn’t look like the woman he’d danced with two years earlier. Her hair was all wrong, and she was far too thin.
You dolt. It's almost as if those are two of the most changeable things about a person, especially after two years
“Don’t be a silly. Until we hire you on, you’re not a servant here.”
That's what I was saying
But as she stalked out the door, she heard Benedict explode with laughter. Then she heard him shout out, “Well done, Miss Beckett!”
Benedict you teasing little shit, I love you
“I think I’m going to kiss you,” he whispered. “You think?” “I think I have to kiss you,” he said, looking as if he couldn’t quite believe his own words. “It’s rather like breathing. One doesn’t have much choice in the matter.”
Sophie wasn’t positive, but she thought she even heard the phrase, “roast beef and pudding.”
I need the context immediately
Not to mention, of course, that Mr. Cavender has begun to show a decided interest in Miss Cressida Cowper.
Now THEY deserve each other
“Between him and his brother, I don’t know which one of them will kill me first,” Lady Bridgerton muttered. “Which brother?” Sophie asked. “Either. Both. All three. Scoundrels, the lot of them.”
Colin, who was off, in Anthony’s words, God-knows-where.
He kissed her with renewed vigor, pushing away the niggling voice in his head, telling him that he’d been here, done this before. Two years earlier he’d danced with a woman, kissed her, and she’d told him that he’d have to pack a lifetime into a single kiss.
I seriously cannot get over how incredibly THICK Benedict is being. He is CONSTANTLY comparing Sophie to the masked woman and not once has he asked himself WHY dealing with them feels the same
“You shared them with me,” she said softly.
Did he though? I thought you were snooping and saw them
He needed her next to him, below him, on top of him. He needed her in him, around him, a part of him. He needed her the way he needed air.
If you wanted to be with me, you would be with me.
She wants to be with you legitimately you absolute buffoon
