An Offer From a Gentleman (Bridgertons, #3)

by Julia Quinn

He made a point of fawning over the chubby one, if only because her mother so obviously preferred the other. Mothers like that, he decided, didn’t deserve to be mothers.

It has oft been said that physicians make the worst patients, but it is the opinion of This Author that any man makes a terrible patient. One might say it takes patience to be a patient, and heaven knows, the males of our species lack an abundance of patience.

And from there it was straight to the lake. To the very cold lake. To take a very cold swim.

But when Benedict kissed her, she felt real.

“I could give you whatever you wanted,” he bit off. “Clothes, jewels—Hell, forget about the clothes and jewels, I could give you a bloody roof over your head, which is more than you have now.” “That is true,” she said quietly. He leaned forward, his eyes burning hot into hers. “I could give you everything.” Somehow she managed to stand up straight, and somehow she managed not to cry. And somehow she even managed to keep her voice even as she said, “If you think that’s everything, then you probably wouldn’t understand why I must refuse.”

“I’m quaking in my boots,” he deadpanned.

If he ruined her so publicly, in front of people she admired and respected, he’d break her spirit. And that would be an unforgivable crime.

“You make me smile,” he whispered. “When you don’t make me want to scream, you make me smile.”

“They say that a smart person learns from her mistakes,” she interrupted, her voice forcefully ending his protest. “But a truly smart person learns from other people’s mistakes.”

Bloody marriage thing’?” Anthony asked with an amused smile. “I assure you, the deflowering of one’s wife is not quite so gory.”

“At any rate,” Colin was still grumbling, “I am not going to marry soon, and I am certainly not going to marry Penelope Featherington!” “Oh!” It was a feminine “oh,” and without looking up, Benedict somehow knew that he was about to experience one of life’s most awkward moments. Heart filled with dread, he lifted his head and turned toward the front door. There, framed perfectly in the open doorway, was Penelope Featherington, her lips parted with shock, her eyes filled with heartbreak. And in that moment, Benedict realized what he’d probably been too stupid (and stupidly male) to notice: Penelope Featherington was in love with his brother.

I am of the opinion that the reason we are not allowed access is that if we were, we would trounce you men in all subjects!”

“Nothing is ever as complicated as it is in one’s mind.”

If he respected her, then he had to respect her beliefs.

But it took his heart less than a second to know that a quiet life with Sophie was by far preferable to a public life without her.

This tended to require some explaining, but most of Posy’s statements did. Posy didn’t mind. The Bridgertons actually liked her explanations. They liked her. Even better, she rather liked herself. Which was more important than she’d ever realized.