Ruthless Quotes

“You know as well as I do, damn you. Like it or not I seem to have grown a heart. I have absolutely no use for the damned thing, but there it sits, demanding Elinor. I can't live without her.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“Please go away, Monsieur le Comte,” she said in a polite voice. “You must have tired of your absurd, inconsequential games by now.”
“My games are never inconsequential, as long as they entertain me.”
She closed her eyes in frustration for a brief moment. “This house is filled with beautiful women…”
“Oh, not quite filled,” he said frankly, leaning back. “The Revels won’t start for another day. At this point there are no more than half a dozen beauties in residence.”
“Then why don’t you go bother one of them?”
“Because I don’t want one of them, my sweet. I want you.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“If I am ever in the position where I wish to seduce someone I will simply assure her it’s better than rats.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“Who shot you?"
For a moment he looked annoyed. "I fail to see what that's got to do with anything. Reading assures me that anyone who's ever met me would have reason to shoot me, so I must
admit with all candor that I have no idea. Was it you?"
"If I'd shot you I wouldn't have missed," she said.
"Was that wishful thinking or are you in fact a practiced shot?"
"Desire would have made up for lack of expertise.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“And what if I think you're doing this out of misguided sense of decency?"
"Oh, any sense of decency I possess is most definitely misguided," he said cheerfully.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“I would have to ask her, just to make certain I'd done everything I could. But I'd warn her. I have no money, no prospects, an exceedingly ugly face, and my dearest friend is the King of Hell."
"You think that would stop her?"
"I have no idea. Would it, Lydia?"
"Nothing would stop her, if she loved you. And she does, Charles. She loves your pretty face and you scarred face. She loves your past and your present and she most especially loves your future. Just ask."
"Marry me, Lydia.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“He's a terrible man, miss," Nanny Maude said. "Consorts with devils, he does, and drinks blood, and..."
"He was at Culloden!" Lydia blurted out. "He was not even twenty years old, fighting for Bonnie Prince Charlie, and he saw his entire family slaughtered. He barely escaped with his life."
There was a shocked silence. And then Nanny Maude cleared her throat. "I always said there was good in the lad. Indeed, and I tied to tell you so. Handsome, too, and I expect a good woman would put a stop to these parties of his. ”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“We have a guardian angel, and who cares if he's a fallen one?”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“Lord save us, first you have a heart, now you have a god? Will wonders never cease?”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“You can dress a pig up in satin and lace and its still a pig."
Francis smiled hazily. "Are you calling my intended a pig, Charles?"
Charles raised a dark eyebrow. "Intended what, Francis? You surely cant be having respectable inclinations towards this girl. The bullet hit your arm, not your head.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“And you're no going to see me inherit the title--you'll marry on your deathbed and beget an heir just to spite me," he said in a voice that wasn't far from a whine.
"What a wonderful opinion you have of my virility," Rohan replied.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“You have everyone else at your feet, Miss Lydia. Why should you need me as well?"
For a moment she couldn't speak, mesmerized by the torment she saw in the dark depths of his eyes. "Because you're the one I want," she said in a hushed voice.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“I say a stream leading into a pond, where we can have swans and ducks and absolutely no geese, and we’ll live very happily, two old-maid sisters. I do think we should have cats, a great many of them. They won’t go after the ducks, will they?” “We’ll have cats that are afraid of ducks,”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“He'd reached the door, then stopped for a moment, looking back at Elinor, staring at her.
"Master Francis..." Mrs. Clarke said in a warning tone.
"I just wanted to take a last glance at her exquisite feet before you covered them up again. It might be a while before I see them again."
"It will be never," Elinor said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Don't count on it, my pet. Whatever scurrilous lies Mrs. Clarke spreads about my so-called goodness, she'll have to admit that I always get what I want.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“I get the uneasy suspicion that you're holding something back, Mr. Reading," she said. "Or were you simply going to cast more aspersions on my threadbare wardrobe?"
"I'm afraid you're so pretty that I hadn't even noticed your wardrobe, Miss Harriman. Your sister doesn't have the advantage of your beauty."
"If that's supposed to make me feel better it's failed," she said, finally getting angry. "My sister is very striking, and only shallow gentlemen would fail to realize that."
"I'm very shallow, Miss Harriman. You enchant me. Your sister terrifies me."
"Good," she said. Then realized how it sounded. "I mean, good that my sister terrifies you, and I would certainly wish that I could do the same."
He looked at her. "In fact, you do terrify me, Miss Harriman, for quite different reasons."
"I can't imagine why."
His twisted smile was far from reassuring. "I think you would prefer I not mention it to you," he murmured.
"I don't understand."
"You don't need to.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“He reached up for his elegant neck cloth and began to unfasten it, and she watched his long, pale, bejeweled fingers in something of a daze.
He pulled the cloth free, his shirt coming open, and she averted her gaze from the disturbing sight of his bare chest. She heard his laugh, and then his hands were on her once more, catching her shoulders and turning her around. "Don't worry, my pet. You won't be seeing anything that might shock you." And he pulled the neck cloth over her eyes, effectively blinding her.
She wanted to fight back, to struggle, but that would give him an excuse to touch her further, and the less she felt the brush of his cool fingers the better. "That's right," he said, his voice soft and approving. "Now give me your arm and we'll give you a taste of damnation."
"Do you really find blasphemy that entertaining?" she said, trying not to start when he took her hand and placed it on his arm.
"Always."
She'd never put her hand on any arm that wasn't covered by layers of clothing, including a coat. The devil who oversaw these revels, be he Monsieur le Comte or something else, wore only a thin shirt made of the finest lawn. In her sudden world of darkness she was acutely aware of the feel of his arm beneath her fingers. The sinew and bone. The unexpected warmth of his skin, when his hands and his heart were so cold.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“The King of Hell was everything they said he was, both less and more. He was reputed to have the ability to seduce an abbess or the pope himself, and she could see why. It wasn't his physical beauty, which was considerable. He had dark blue eyes behind a fringe of ridiculously long lashes, pale, beautiful skin, the kind of mouth that could bring despair and delight- and what the hell was she doing, thinking about such things?
He looked younger than his reputed age, around forty, and while his long dark hair was streaked with silver it only made him seem more leonine, more dangerous. He was tall, and he moved with an elegant grace that put dancers to shame. He was standing far too close to her, to the gun she'd stolen from Jacobs while he was busy with the carriage, and he was looking at her with far too much interest and absolutely no fear.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“The child in the middle of the room was glaring at him, for child she was, no matter what her advanced years. She was a virgin, untouched, unkissed, innocent and angry, and he was prepared to enjoy himself immensely. "So tell me, little one. What really brought you here?”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“One of the footmen appeared, with Willis, his servant from a lifetime ago, on the other side of what was undoubtedly female and undoubtedly not one of the prostitutes imported from the city. This was going to be entertaining. He leaned back in his chair and gestured them closer, waiting as they approached, waiting as Reading stood in the background watching him.
"What have we got here, Willis?" he asked in his mildest voice. It was too much to hope for anything truly entertaining, but it might provide a few moments distraction.
She lifted her head, the dowdy creature, and he found himself looking into warm brown eyes filled with such loathing that for a moment he was charmed. Few people ever showed their dislike of him.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“He moved, and suddenly she felt her body pressed up against the wall, quite firmly, his hands on her arms. And then a moment later, before she realized what he intended, he moved closer, his tall body covering hers in shadows, and all she could do was feel him, hip to hip, his chest against hers, his heart, slow and lazy against her racing one, as he filled all her senses, and she was drowning.
Endure, she reminded herself, and closed her eyes, holding very still. He moved his head down, to the spot at the base of her neck, and she felt his mouth, his teeth, just the lightest of bites against her skin, and she quivered. Endure, she reminded herself again, trying to breathe normally. He was much too strong to fight.
His body held her still, and he released her arms to slide his hands up, the fingers stroking the pulse at her neck that was racing so wildly.”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“You see, my dove. There are creatures far more terrifying than rats who wander these corridors."
"You're known as the King of Hell, Monsieur le Comte," she said. "What else would I expect from your guests?”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless

“Bring mademoiselle a chair. She looks weary."
"No!" she said. "I have no interest in conversing with you, Monsieur le Comte. I simply need my mother."
"And I need to prove myself a proper host," he returned.
"You've managed to overcome your more proper urges so far," she said pointedly. "Why change now?”
― Anne Stuart, Ruthless