Nobody's Angel Quotes

“You look beautiful sitting there spitting at me like a she-cat. All I have to do is look at you, and I lust. I'm going to take you back to the hotel and take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to be mad at me anymore." Ian Connelly, Marquis of Derne”
― Karen Robards, Nobody's Angel

“I hope not, either. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” He turned his head to flash a glance that was almost teasing at her. Nearly a quarter of his face was cleared of brash, and he was starting to look different. Not quite so brutish. “If you don’t work around here, you don’t eat,” Susannah said, and turned back into the house. When she returned a few minutes later, she was carrying a pair of gray hose she had just finished knitting and one of her father’s shirts. The shirt was sure to be hopelessly too small for him, but it was the best she could do for the moment. Certainly it was better than having him go around bare-chested. What was left of his own shirt was fit for nothing but the ragbag, once it was clean. “When you’ve finished, you may put these on. I don’t know how things are done in England, but around here we’re careful of our modesty. I expect you to keep yourself decently covered in future.” “I’ve finished.” Connelly turned away from the washstand, a towel to his face as he wiped away the soap. “And speaking of modesty, given the fact that you’ve already seen me in the altogether—it was you who bathed me, wasn’t it?—I don’t see that it matters.” “Caring for an unclothed sick man is a very different matter from being constantly confronted with an unclothed healthy one, especially in a household that consists mostly of young ladies. I’ve my sisters to think of.” “Ah, the three twittering birds from the auction. I remember.” He finished with the towel as he spoke and tossed it in the general direction of the nightshirt. About to inform him that the pile of laundry waiting to be washed was the other way and that he might add towel and nightshirt to it, Susannah never got the words out. Her attention”
― Karen Robards, Nobody's Angel: A Novel