Portrait of a Scotsman (A League of Extraordinary Women, #3)

by Evie Dunmore

precious things still exerted a magnetic pull.

Money, he had learned, was a wholly different beast from power. Power was held by polite society within the hermetically sealed fortress of shared experiences at Eton, Oxford, and Cambridge, strategic marriages, and inheritance laws.

“They do say capitalism worships only itself.”

He’d mastered the subtle art of having delivered the fatal blow long before the opponent realized it had been inflicted.

“I think everyone should have at least one person they love well enough to die for.”

man will hoard priceless things and yet treat them with no more care than cheap trinkets, simply because it gives him pleasure that he can.”

Only a selfish girl would dream of romance and companionship with a man before she thought of all the lovely children she could nurture. She was selfish, then.

She was shiny and preoccupied with colors; he had breathed and ingested darkness, had stared at it for so long it had begun to stare back into him.

no matter how beastly a creature, a woman’s self-sacrificing love shall eventually turn him into a beautiful prince.”

Jewels—a woman’s portable bank account since the beginning of time.

Les rousses viennent de l’enfer—redheaded women are from hell. Lovely was dead. Enter the witch.

She was sweet. Genuinely sweet and unassuming. Spoiled and ignorant, too, but her cheerful disposition was rooted in something deeper; there’d be some whimsy in her even had she been raised in a beggar’s hovel.

I’d choose the blaze,

Beneath lace and silk, she was a wild and dangerous creature.

Feeling him return to her was so good it hurt.